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#this is rhetorical. just me thinking out loud
revvethasmythh · 1 month
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on a list of incredibly silly, irrelevant things from the campaign i still wonder about all the time, whether Flora is actually Imogen's horse (in the legal sense of ownership) or just her favorite of Master Faramore's horses is still number one for me. do the Temults even own any horses at all or do they just work at the stables? do they board horses at the stable for a discount because they work there? do they even board horses in Gelvaan or is it more common to keep personally owned horses on your own property?? These are the important questions I need to ask for the eventual campaign wrap-up, I think
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mechorrhizae · 5 months
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I need a word to describe the living nature of the soil. Describing the bacteria and worms and fungi and everything else that eats a corpse that did not let itself go, but instead just went.
Describing something that is alive but not as one entity. As alive, but its constituent pieces do not all have the same goal in mind. It's something that shouldn’t need to have uniform goals but is still expected by some to be perfectly congruent.
I need a word that describes what (I was told) I should expect disgust about, but brings a deep solace instead. I think it might be decomposition but the pieces of that word feel too sterile to build what it’s describing.
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purewater100 · 9 months
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i like to think my mental health isn't that bad, and that my disorders haven't impacted me that hard, but then i'll have nights like this where i'll realize just how badly i've fucked myself and it really, really sucks lol.
these past 4 years, can i even call it living? though, i think the worst part is i know it's not gonna stop at 4. i know once this year ends, the next will be just as bad if not worse, and i will have to live through not just that year, but every year after it knowing the only person i can blame for my misery is myself.
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cookinguptales · 1 year
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So I’ve been enjoying the Disney vs. DeSantis memes as much as anyone, but like. I do feel like a lot of people who had normal childhoods are missing some context to all this.
I was raised in the Bible Belt in a fairly fundie environment. My parents were reasonably cool about some things, compared to the rest of my family, but they certainly had their issues. But they did let me watch Disney movies, which turned out to be a point of major contention between them and my other relatives.
See, I think some people think this weird fight between Disney and fundies is new. It is very not new. I know that Disney’s attempts at inclusion in their media have been the source of a lot of mockery, but what a lot of people don’t understand is that as far as actual company policy goes, Disney has actually been an industry leader for queer rights. They’ve had policies assuring equal healthcare and partner benefits for queer employees since the early 90s.
I’m not sure how many people reading this right now remember the early 90s, but that was very much not industry standard. It was a big deal when Disney announced that non-married queer partners would be getting the same benefits as the married heterosexual ones.
Like — it went further than just saying that any unmarried partners would be eligible for spousal benefits. It straight-up said that non-same-sex partners would still need to be married to receive spousal benefits, but because same-sex partners couldn’t do that, proof that they lived together as an established couple would be enough.
In other words, it put long-term same-sex partners on a higher level than opposite-sex partners who just weren’t married yet. It put them on the exact same level as heterosexual married partners.
They weren’t the first company ever to do this, but they were super early. And they were certainly the first mainstream “family-friendly” company to do it.
Conservatives lost their damn minds.
Protests, boycotts, sermons, the whole nine yards. I can’t tell you how many books about the evils of Disney my grandmother tried to get my parents to read when I was a kid.
When we later moved to Florida, I realized just how many queer people work at Disney — because historically speaking, it’s been a company that has guaranteed them safety, non-discrimination, and equal rights. That’s when I became aware of their unofficial “Gay Days” and how Christians would show up from all over the country to protest them every year. Apparently my grandmother had been upset about these days for years, but my parents had just kind of ignored her.
Out of curiosity, I ended up reading one of the books my grandmother kept leaving at our house. And friends — it’s amazing how similar that (terrible, poorly written) rhetoric was to what people are saying these days. Disney hires gay pedophiles who want to abuse your children. Disney is trying to normalize Satanism in our beautiful, Christian America. 
Just tons of conspiracy theories in there that ranged from “a few bad things happened that weren’t actually Disney’s fault, but they did happen” to “Pocahontas is an evil movie, not because it distorts history and misrepresents indigenous life, but because it might teach children respect for nature. Which, as we all know, would cause them all to become Wiccans who believe in climate change.”
Like — please, take it from someone who knows. This weird fight between fundies and Disney is not new. This is not Disney’s first (gay) rodeo. These people have always believed that Disney is full of evil gays who are trying to groom and sexually abuse children.
The main difference now is that these beliefs are becoming mainstream. It’s not just conservative pastors who are talking about this. It’s not just church groups showing up to boycott Gay Day. Disney is starting to (reluctantly) say the quiet part out loud, and so are the Republicans. Disney is publicly supporting queer rights and announcing company-supported queer events and the Republican Party is publicly calling them pedophiles and enacting politically driven revenge.
This is important, because while this fight has always been important in the history of queer rights, it is now being magnified. The precedent that a fight like this could set is staggering. For better or for worse, we live in a corporation-driven country. I don’t like it any more than you do, and I’m not about to defend most of Disney’s business practices. But we do live in a nation where rights are largely tied to corporate approval, and the fact that we might be entering an age where even the most powerful corporations in the country are being banned from speaking out in favor of rights for marginalized people… that’s genuinely scary.
Like… I’ll just ask you this. Where do you think we’d be now, in 2023, if Disney had been prevented from promising its employees equal benefits in 1994? That was almost thirty years ago, and look how far things have come. When I looked up news articles for this post from that era, even then journalists, activists, and fundie church leaders were all talking about how a company of Disney’s prominence throwing their weight behind this movement could lead to the normalization of equal protections in this country.
The idea of it scared and thrilled people in equal parts even then. It still scares and thrills them now.
I keep seeing people say “I need them both to lose!” and I get it, I do. Disney has for sure done a lot of shit over the years. But I am begging you as a queer exvangelical to understand that no. You need Disney to win. You need Disney to wipe the fucking floor with these people.
Right now, this isn’t just a fight between a giant corporation and Ron DeSantis. This is a fight about the right of corporations to support marginalized groups. It’s a fight that ensures that companies like Disney still can offer benefits that a discriminatory government does not provide. It ensures that businesses much smaller than Disney can support activism.
Hell, it ensures that you can support activism.
The fight between weird Christian conspiracy theorists and Disney is not new, because the fight to prevent any tiny victory for marginalized groups is not new. The fight against the normalization of othered groups is not new.
That’s what they’re most afraid of. That each incremental victory will start to make marginalized groups feel safer, that each incremental victory will start to turn the tide of public opinion, that each incremental victory will eventually lead to sweeping law reform.
They’re afraid that they won’t be able to legally discriminate against us anymore.
So guys! Please. This fight, while hilarious, is also so fucking important. I am begging you to understand how old this fight is. These people always play the long game. They did it with Roe and they’re doing it with Disney.
We have! To keep! Pushing back!
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socialistexan · 1 month
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There is no more quiet part, they are just fully saying out loud that they think trans people even existing in public is a harm to children akin to sexual violence.
I'm so tired of liberals telling me over and over and over again that I need to just reach out and talk to these people. They see my very existence as a sex crime, they think I need to be exterminated out of public life and then exterminated for real. These are fucking fascists. I'm so tired of being a rhetorical chip used to shame others, I'm sure you'll feel smug satisfaction over your conservative uncle that you were right while he's carting us off.
I'm sorry, there is no bridge to bring us to a middle ground between "I think I have the right to exist" and "I think your very existence is a crime" that doesn't end poorly for me.
There is no hand I can reach out without getting pulled by that hand straight down 6 feet under to my grave.
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mosspapi · 6 months
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Hm. I wanna grow out just the top bit of my undercut bcuz it feels a little topheavy atm but like. How do I do that without it looking weird and awkward while I do Or just having to cut it all off and grow it out from the start again
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lovebugism · 1 month
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hi bug!! for your shy!reader requests, idk if you’re going smutty w them but if you ARE: I love the concept of reader being generally pretty quiet, which extends to r’s sex life bc they’ve never thought to b otherwise… enter Hawkins’ own loudmouth DM who takes it upon himself to coax every noise out of reader that he can 💖🫡
ty for requesting! here's my first attempt at smut on here since 2023 :D — eddie teaches his quiet gf how to be louder in the bedroom (shy!fem!r, smut 18+)
Eddie’s face appears from beneath the covers — pale cheeks flushed, chestnut hair wild. He’s still got his ringed fingers wrapped ‘round your thighs, clutching you with the same intensity he’d had when his face was shoved between them. 
He blinks at you with chocolate eyes and drags his tongue across his lip. His pink mouth is softly swollen with use and glittering with your honey. “Is this okay?” he slurs between labored pants.
You lift your swimmy head from the pillow and peer at him through the valley of your breasts, rising and falling with each deep breath. You nod until the words catch up to you. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s— it’s good,” you answer breathlessly, though you don’t think that describes the half of it.
There aren’t enough words in the English language you could string together to describe how he makes you feel. How good he is with his tongue. How you’re throbbing clit still pounds like a heartbeat for more of him.
“Okay. Good,” he huffs with a lazy nod. 
His fingers fidget around your thighs when he shifts on the mattress, wincing slightly when his sensitive cock ruts against it. “I just… I wanted to make sure, you know? ‘Cause you weren’t… You weren’t really… Saying anything.”
He forces out a chuckle to keep the honeyed mood light while horror floods your features. Your eyes soften around the edges with worry. “What was I… What was I supposed to say?” you squeak.
“Nothing!” he answers quickly, eyes going wide when he senses your panic. “It’s just… Most— Most people moan when they feel good and stuff…” His lip quirks in a lopsided smile before a laugh sputters from them. “I mean, you’ve heard me. I’m fucking loud.”
He is. He’s more than loud, actually — full of gruff moans, pretty whimpers, and neverending praise. He never leaves you with an ounce of worry when you’re with him ‘cause he’s constantly rambling about how good you feel.
“Fuck, baby, that’s good— Oh, shit,” he babbled while he fucked your mouth, some minutes ago now. He whimpered after, high-pitched and faraway.“Gonna make me cum— so fucking hard— in your pretty little throat. Fuck, angel. Fuck—”
You writhe on the mattress, feeling suddenly uncomfortable in your own skin. 
You become acutely hyperaware of how bare you are below him, with his face mere inches from your glistening pussy and his chocolate eyes swimming with warmth. You feel more naked than you already are. Totally fucking see-through.
“Sorry,” you murmur sheepishly. “I just… I guess, I’m just quiet. I don’t know.”
Eddie smiles like he isn’t wearing your slick all over his chin. “That’s okay,” he assures with an innocuous twinkle in his eye. “But you don’t have to be. You know that, right?”
You blink at him until you realize the question isn’t rhetorical. 
His smile falls into a mischievous smirk when you nod. 
“Be as loud as you want for me, yeah? Make all the noise you want…”
——���——
He’s a menace.
Eddie Munson is a total fucking menace.
He doesn’t eat your pussy like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. No, he takes his good and well time with you — like he plans on doing this, and only this, for the rest of his life. 
Your inner thighs are slick with saliva. His spit drips down your ass, along with your honey, as his tongue laps mercilessly at your cunt. Slowly, gently, agonizingly. It’s like he can’t help but be so sloppy. Like he can’t help but drool all over your pussy ‘cause he loves it so damn much.
“Eddie, please,” you whine through heavy pants, clammy hands cradling your knees to keep them spread for him. “I wanna cum, Eddie. Please, I wanna cum.”
If he’s doing all this to get you talking, well, it’s fucking working.
His mouth smacks when it parts from your sensitive clit. The delicate button is as swollen as his lips are now. His pretty face is utterly blissed out — mouth rosy, eyes lidded, cheeks flushed. Like he’s found heaven in your pussy.
“Shit,” he huffs with a crooked smile, still a bit breathless. “You taste too good… Got me all distracted… Wasn’t tryin’ to tease you, babe, I swear.”
He pulls back the sticky hood of your cunt with a ringed hand. You keen when his thumb rolls over your throbbing clit. “Fuck, Eds,” you gasp — back arched, head thrown back.
“Need it that bad, huh?” He chuckles quietly when your hips buck into his hand, desperate for more. 
“Please, Eds,” you beg with your eyes squeezed shut. Tears burn in the very corners of them, stinging like you might cry at how good he’s making you feel. At how badly you want him to make you cum.
Spit dribbles from his pursed mouth onto your already slick pussy. He rubs it in with guitar string-calloused fingers, and your toes curl into the sheets. “Wanna cum?” he slurs, blinking slowly at your trembling form with pretty button eyes. “Wanna cream on my tongue?”
You whine at the vulgarity of his words — and at the lightning strike that rushes down your spine when his merciless fingers graze your pulsing clit. Swallowing down a sob, you nod rapidly against the pillow.
Eddie kisses your pussy like he would your mouth. Your honey clings to him when he pulls away, smirking up at you with glittering lips. “Then keep talking for me, yeah?”
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rebeccccccaaa · 14 days
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Too Sweet
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Spencer Reid x Reader
:: Practically at his beck and call, Spencer knows you’re too sweet for him. He knows he shouldn’t use you but he can’t stop himself when you’re also all too enthusiastic to fuck him ::
warnings :: smutttt, casual sex (kinda lol), oral (fem receiving), over stimulation, insomnia!spencer, spencer spitting facts (literally), reader is described to have hair length long enough to stick to your cheeks, obviously reader is described as afab, not sure what else i should tag so let me know what i miss :)
author’s notes :: hello, hello! honestly i saw this tik tok edit of spencer with this song (Too Sweet - Hozier) and felt a bit inspired by it and also loosely by lyrics too. please be kind as it’s been a couple years since i last wrote a fic and it’s my first one about dr reid too, so let me know if you guys like it, comment, reblog, all that jazz and critiques are more than welcome! Enjoy!
WC :: ~4k
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It was pretty late into the night, it was the first weekend in weeks that the team was able to really enjoy. Spencer sat in a corner of his apartment, a glass of whiskey sat on the table as he flipped the pages of a book he’s read a thousand times before, albeit it was one of favorites. 
He was hesitant to call, he didn’t want to pull you away from enjoying your weekend but when it came to his pleasure, he put himself first. You were always too nice to say no to him and he knew that. It made him feel sleazy sometimes, but this was who he was now. Rugged, damaged, fucked up. He’d been through a lot. But in those moments where you squirmed and whined beneath him, he felt satiated. You were his drug now. 
“Hello?” he mumbled when the call picked up.
“Spencer,” your voice was a whisper as  you practically sang his name.
“You’re awake,” he said.
“Yes,” you responded.
“It’s a little late don’t you think?” he poked. 
“Then why are you calling?” 
You knew why he was calling. He only ever wanted one thing from you when the sky was dark. You didn’t mind it though. You basked in it. You kind of liked it. The feeling of having sex without commitment. Your job didn’t give you enough time for a commitment. You didn’t feel humiliated or belittled by Spencer’s desires. In fact, his lust for you turned you on in most cases. Most. 
Spencer was still a good friend to you. Regardless of sleeping with him, he was your closest friend. And recently, you noticed changes in him. Maybe you’ve kept a closer eye on him more than before but you were a little concerned. You had the right after everything he’s been through. He seemed more tired than usual, even though he was still punctual with work. Although you didn’t sleep in his bed after every time you slept together, when you did, you pretended not to notice his exits and long absences in between the long hours of the night. You could barely hear his ever so quiet footsteps roaming the living room. The clanking of coffee mugs in the kitchen and his quiet ‘Shit’ when he thought he was being too loud.
Three subtle knocks rapped his door, so quiet Spencer would’ve missed if he had breathed just a bit louder. A grin spread across his face subconsciously, glancing at the clock before taking long strides to the door. It was almost midnight. You stood in the doorway with heavy eyes, not the drunk kind, but the tired kind. He moved aside to let you in. Just like last time; and all the other times you showed up at his door for him. 
“I thought you went out tonight,” he questioned, rhetorically. 
“I did. For a bit,” you told him, “I just had one drink, then went home.”
“What are you doing up so late?” you asked, you already know the answer. And Spencer knows you know too, though he tried at first to be more subtle in his nightly fixtures. He simply sighed with amusement. You set your things down on his couch, eyes adjusting to the dim lights that hardly lit the room. The glass sitting on the table in the corner caught your eyes though. 
“What are you drinking?” you asked.
“Uh, whiskey. Neat.” 
“Ew, why?” you joked.
“It’s not that bad,” he shrugged. A whiskey wouldn’t exactly be Spencer’s first choice of drink but then again his first choice of drink wouldn’t even be alcohol. If it was, he would probably be content with a beer, or something of the sort. He was sort of going through a phase during nights. He was sleeping a lot less too. 
“I just didn’t take you for a whiskey kind of guy,” you teased.
“What kind of guy did you take me for?” he poked; he wasn’t really talking about drinks anymore though. 
“Water,” you joked, making him laugh. 
Spencer stood before you now. His hands were slightly hesitant this time to rest on your hips. 
“Is everything ok, Spencer?” you asked him. 
“Yes,” his voice was a whisper. 
You didn’t believe him, but you knew better than to press him. He was a stubborn guy and whether you did or didn’t you weren’t going to get an answer. You slid your hands up his chest before cupping the back of his neck with your hands. The kiss was chaste. You didn’t want to sleep with him if he was having second thoughts.
“Are you sure? If you’ve changed your mind I can head hom-,” you were telling him.
“No, don’t,” he rushed out. 
“I’m fine; I just haven’t been sleeping well,” he confessed. This surprised you, not because you didn’t know, but because you didn’t think he would tell you. 
“Well, then maybe I should go. That way you can finally get to bed before the sun comes up for once,” you joked with him, “Besides, you’re the one who's always telling people how important sleep is to the human body.”
Your words shocked Spencer this time. Admittedly, in the back of mind he suspected that you could sense him leaving his bed, or your bed sometimes, and that one or more times he’d been a little loud dwindling in the next room. But he didn’t realize you were fully aware of his nightly escapades. You knew him too well. You were too sweet to him. Spencer knew after all the fucked up things he’s been through he didn’t deserve your friendship; or anything more despite the fact.
“Did you know that elephants sleep the least of any other animal?” he told you, he doesn’t know why. Maybe to distract you, or seduce you. Both outcomes came often enough for him to make it a guessing game.
“You’re not an elephant.”
And then there were the ultra rare times when neither outcome happened; just now being one of them. 
“Sleep deprivation has been associated with reduced sexual desire and arousal,” he tried again.
“Well, I can help with that,” you teased. There we go.
He leaned down to kiss your lips but you pulled back in tease, smile on your face; you knew how pussywhipped you had this man. He didn’t want to fight it, he was growing desperate for you with every passing second. Rolling his eyes, he dipped his head in the crook of your neck. His hands left your hips, pulling you closer to him from your waist and lower back. Your hands began to unbutton his shirt, he was still wearing the clothes you saw him working in earlier that day. 
You stopped him, never been one to have sex anywhere other than the bedroom, taking his hand already knowing where to go after doing so many times before already. Although, it wasn’t like his apartment was a confusing labyrinth. He followed you like always. 
You reached the edge of the bed, sitting instinctively. Your hand went straight to his belt, undoing it with ease. Spencer pulled your hands away from his hips before sinking to his knees to the ground. He pulled your hips to the very edge, scratching the skin as he desperately pulled at your pants bringing them down your legs. Of course you let him.
He pushed you back and you fell on your elbows, still able to see him so clearly. See him dip his head and kiss the skin on the inside of your knee, his eyes lingering on yours. You let your head go for a second, basking in the feeling of his lips. They always made you feel so warm and tingly. One thing about Spencer, he loved foreplay. All the little things that lead up to sex. Most of the time, he craved the foreplay more than the sex itself. 
He moved your legs over his shoulders, his arms wrapping around your thighs, his hands holding your hips. His nose ran along your inner thighs. Your skin erupted in goosebumps at the feeling of his warm breath coming from his nose. His fingers fiddled against your hip bones and you wiggled a bit becoming desperate by the minute for something more than just this teasing.
“Spence,” you whined, looking back at him.
“It doesn’t matter how many times we do this, you’ll never learn patience will you?” Spencer bartered. 
“Spencer, I don’t come to you to learn patience,” you spat, not with any malice however.
“You won’t come at all with that attitude,” he snapped back, hiding a grin between your legs. 
“Spencer!” you gasped.
He chuckled lowly, bringing his hand between your thighs, pulling your underwear to the side to expose you to him. You were glistening, slick beginning to leak from you already. Spencer could feel himself getting hard. He precariously tried to not buck his hips into the bed like horny teenager.  
“Fuck,” he whispered under his breath. 
He stepped up quickly letting your legs drop harshly. His fingers curled over the hem of your underwear pulling them down and tossing behind his shoulder before returning to his previous position. He felt like he was possessed. Acting and moving like it was primal, instinctive. He wanted nothing more in this moment than to satisfy you. 
He kissed all the places except the place you needed the most. You curled your toes anticipating his next move, longing for his lips, tongue, fingers, anything to bring you pleasure. Just when you were about to sit up, ready to nag at him, his lips wrapped around your bud. 
Your shoulders gave out at the feeling. Your body electrifying instantaneously. Your eyes trained on the ceiling, focusing on everything about Spencer in this moment, the sounds, his touch, his tongue. His tongue dipping in you every now and then, making you moan feverishly. His hands spread out, pinning your hips down to the bed to try and get you to stop wiggling your hips, but he wasn’t too successful in that. 
“Knock it off,” he groaned, removing a hand wrapped around your leg to bring his fingers to your entrance.
“It’s not enough; I need more,” you whined.
“No, you want more,” he debuted, “You’re being greedy.”
“And you’re being mean,” you quipped, you always had something to retort.
“Ok, fine,” he stood up.
“Stop!” you whined, “Please, come back. Do whatever you want.”
“I will,” he sat on his knees again, instantly bringing his fingers up to rub slow circles that made your toes curl. 
He purposefully let them every now and then prod at your entrance make your hips jerk in surprise. He could see how wet you were, all of the slick telling him how needy you were. He looked up to look at your face. His eyes catching your nipples peeking through the fabric of your shirt from the pleasure already, smiling to himself. 
“Sexual arousal can cause an increase in blood flow to not just female genitalia, but also the breasts,” he told you, feeling your thighs squeeze ever so slightly.
“Is that your way of telling me my nipples are hard because of you?” you teased.
“Yes,” he stated before diving straight back between your thighs. 
His tongue did circles like his fingers, the wetness and warmth much more stimulating than before. His fingers slid inside you, curling when he couldn’t push them any further. You moaned out, reaching your hand down to comb your fingers through Spencer’s shaggy hair. The noises of everything bounced off the walls of Spencer’s shallow bedroom. It sounded vulgar but so sexy. Your heavy breathing practically syncing together. 
Your thighs squeezed more and more as you got closer to your climax; you didn’t care if you were suffocating Spencer. If he died, he died pleasuring you and neither of you minded it in this moment. Your hips grinding against his tongue chasing you release frantically. Spencer pumped his fingers in and out of you rapidly, leading you to ecstasy. 
Your breaths became shaking, as did your moans. You were overcome with pleasure as your orgasm hit you so suddenly. You could feel Spencer’s smile growing against you, you knew that he wasn’t going to withdraw despite reaching your climax. 
“Oh god, too much, Spence.” 
“First it was not enough, now it’s too much?” he taunted you, fingers still pumping in and out you strenuously. 
“Spence!” you wailed, your voice trembling embarrassingly. 
When he wouldn’t give out, you pulled at his hair as you sat up and pulled his mouth away from between your thighs. 
“Oh ow, ow, ow!” he whined. 
“Jesus, you were gonna give me a heartache,” you whined. 
“Actually the possibility of having a heart attack during sexual activity is exceedingly low. So you wouldn’t have had anything to worry about; if anything you would get a small headache,” he explained. 
“You’re giving me a headache,” you whined, making him laugh.  
You pulled him from the back of his neck, crashing his lips against yours. You loved to kiss Spencer. You always felt the closest to him physically when you kissed. Which is ironic since he was quite literally inside you most nights. Kissing, the art of kissing, was practically your love language. You always gave small pecks when you were together, privately of course. 
Spencer was worried at first, that kissing was too intimate that things would complicate fast and feelings would get hurt. But as time went on and things continued to stay normal between you, he just began to relish in it rather than worry about nothing. At least that’s what he’s convinced himself of. 
He suddenly remembered the first time you slept together. You were in his apartment one night going over some details of the case. Nothing so major, or frightening, but something wasn’t adding up. You decided to take a break, cracking open some beers and just talk. One beer became two, then three, then four and then suddenly bottles littered the pitiful coffee table in front of you. You were very clear with him, “I don’t just sleep with anybody.” But you were a woman with needs just as much as Spencer was a man, “Neither do I.”
“Things have to stay the way they are if we do this,” he told you that night.
“They will,” you assured him. 
You rested your forehead against his seeing his eyes seem different. Spencer always did this. Everytime, just for a minute or even a second, he would disappear behind his eyes, like he was reminiscing on a memory you couldn’t describe. 
“You did that thing again,” you said with a small grin on your face. 
“I know,” he blushed, “Sorry.”
“You ever gonna tell me what you’re thinking about when you do that?” you questioned.
“Nope,” he smirked, making you giggle. 
Spencer stood straight up shagging his shirt off before scrambling out of his pants. He crawled back over you settling his hips between your thighs as he dipped his head down to attach his lips to your neck. Your hand curled around his neck, sliding your fingers through his hair as his breath and lips tickled your skin. Your hips fit together snuggly, grinding against desperate to chase each other’s highs.
Spencer reached into the drawer beside your head to pull out a condom. You snatched it from his hands with a devilish smirk on your face tearing it with your teeth. You spat the foil corner from your mouth, pulling the condom from its package before tossing it aside. You reached between your bodies stroking Spencer. His face blushing red, contorting with pleasure as it’s the first of the night to feel some sort of friction he needed from the beginning. The reason he called you in the first place. 
Spencer let his hands trace your skin. Though you wouldn’t react, your skin erupted in goosebumps. Feeling him prodding against your entrance, your breath hitched, your heart skipping a beat. You always anticipated this part. No matter how many times you and Spencer spent the night together, you couldn’t ever get used to the flips your stomach made at this time. 
Spencer pushed his hips into you, his length stroking your walls making your hum in delight. Spencer’s breath became heavy as he pulled out just enough before rutting back in you with skill. Your face began to feel hot as Spencer began to find a good rhythm. You could feel the sweat building on your forehead, the air cold against your scalp. 
You looked at Spencer’s face; the veins bulging from his forehead and his neck. You cupped his cheek with your hand, catching his rhythm with your hips. Your breath became heavy, your hums became moans. Spencer wasn’t exactly the most vocal lover you laid with. Not that Spencer was your lover of course. That‘s not what you meant.
“What’s going on in that pretty little brain?” Spencer’s voice took you from your sudden trance; his pace beginning to slow. He brought his hand to your face, pulling the stray hairs that stuck to your cheeks from your sweat away.
“Nothing, just don’t stop,” you sighed, pulling his lips down to yours again. 
Spencer picked up his pace again, the sound of skin slapping echoing in the room. You felt overcome with an ambitious heat throughout your body. You pushed Spencer’s shoulders up trying your best to cool down without stopping your chase to your high. Spencer sat on his knees gripping your hips, practically ramming his hips into yours. Your back arched and you gripped the sheets beneath you. 
“Oh god, fuck,” you cried out. Your thighs squeezing Spencer’s torso as you began to get closer to your climax. 
“Shit, it’s like I can’t get enough no matter how many times I have you squirming beneath me,” he gloated. 
You could see Spencer's chest begin to get red, his knuckles however turning white. Your hands reached down gripping his wrists. Prying them away, before sitting up to straddle his legs, as they stretched forward, adjusting comfortably. You held on to his shoulders sturdily, finding an entirely new rhythm to chase your high. 
Spencer’s hands ran up your back, sliding under your shirt that you had yet to take off. No wonder you were overwhelmed with heat. He peeled the tight fabric from your skin, tossing it to the ground like he has so many times before. He unhooked your bra with ease, his eyes instantly trained to your chest. He couldn’t help his hands following, massaging the soft skin. Spencer looked up to you as you bounced up and down. Sweat dripping seductively down the valley of your breasts. 
“You’re so pretty,” Spencer whispered, staring up at you.
“I know,” you joked breathlessly, giving him a playful wink. 
Spencer let out a breathy laugh at that. The both of you were itching for a release now. Your bodies squirming against one another, aching to give the other the release. You leaned back placing your hands on his thighs, moving your hips faster and harder than before. 
“Spencer, I’m getting close, I feel it,” you whimpered, “Please tell me you’re close too.”
“I’m close,” he breathed out.
“Fuck,” you cried.
“Come on, sweetheart. Let go,” Spencer mused, he reached between you two, fingers circling quickly between your thighs to bring you to climax even faster.
You gasped out, chest heaving as you felt the waves of pleasures wash over you suddenly. You couldn’t help the loud moans escaping from you as you threw your head back; arched back and thighs tensed. Spencer’s hand held your body close to himself, and you curled forward wrapping your arms around his head as you climaxed indefinitely. Spencer grunted below you, his legs stiffening and jerking upward. Curses whispered from his lips. 
“Oh, shit,” you gasped, relaxing and slumping your body over Spencer. 
“Treat me good, like always,” he whispered, his hand coming briefly to stroke your hair gently. 
He rolled you over, laying you lazily on his bed before climbing out of the bed swiftly. He stumbled his way to dispose of the rubber. He grabbed a small towel from a drawer along with something to cover himself. He sat silently on the edge of the bed, gently cleaning you as your eyes slowly blinked, telling him you were exhausted. 
“You want to stay the night? I can see how tired you are.” 
“I’ll be gone first thing in the morning,” you quipped with a small grin on your face. 
Spencer laid beside you, covering your body with the blankets. You curled by his side, your leg falling over his hips. He turned the lights out, but the soft golden glow from the lights in the room next door streamed in. His arm wrapped around you, fingers softly stretching your back. Steady breaths against his chest gave him a sense of comfort. He was always a bit jealous how easily sleep came to you; how peaceful you looked when you did. Spencer tried to close his eyes. He tried to let rest wash over him like a blanket. What felt like seconds was an hour. And another hour. He peeked at his watch laying on the nightstand beside him, three o’clock the time read. 
Sighing, he sneaked out of bed, careful to not wake you. He skulked towards the kitchen, eyeing the small glass of whiskey still on the table. He couldn’t help smirk to himself over it. He opened the cabinet grabbing a mug, pouring a bitter liquid into it. He took a big swig of his favorite beverage, basking in all the flavors, when suddenly a beautiful figure stood before him. 
“Hey,” his voice was quiet. 
“I’m guessing you haven’t slept,” you tiptoed your way to him, you could hear him sighing. 
“Is there anything at all I can do to help you?” you whispered, carefully placing your hand on Spencer’s warm back. 
“No, but having you here is enough.”
You were beginning to blur the lines between your arrangement and your friendship. But neither you nor Spencer could muster up the courage to stop what you’ve started. Spencer indulged in your sweetness, the way you were always there to satiate his desires, the way you opened yourself to him like heaven’s gate. And you, well you would never admit it. Being in love with Spencer that is. You’ve known him for years; seen the best parts of him and helped him through the worst. You knew him the best of anyone you’ve known before. And he could say the same too. He’s never opened up to anyone as much as he has to you. 
You were perfect for each other. And yet, Spencer wouldn’t allow himself to bask in it. He truly believed he didn’t deserve you. That all the demons that haunted him in these dark hours were undeserving of your kindness, compassion, gentleness. Simply thinking about you was often enough to calm him in tense situations. But he would never tell you this. So here he was, standing in the kitchen with his coffee black at three in the morning wondering why you couldn’t see that he would never be enough for you. 
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comicaurora · 3 months
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I'm sorry that the terfs made their way onto your blog but it does feel good to see you support trans people. Thank you for that
Always.
I think, charitably, that the discourse going down on that post is an extrapolation and over-focus on one element of the point I was making: that for me, determining with certainty that I was cis was a rather fraught process. I was presented with many alternatives, but underlying their imposition on me was the oddly regressive idea that the things I liked, the principles I valued, the parts of myself I was proud of were not permitted of women. My whole life I got smacked with the background radiation that I couldn't like being strong because women aren't allowed to be stronger than men. I couldn't like being loud and boistrous because women aren't allowed to take up space. I couldn't be a math geek because women aren't smart. It was all deeply regressive misogyny from day one, but I started getting hit with it slathered in a fresh coat of paint - all those assumptions still held to be true, but now there was the out that I could do all those things if I just wasn't a woman.
Concluding that the underlying bioessentialist premise was wrong was very important. Absolutely none of those statements were true, and were only ever maintained by cultural saturation, goalpost-readjustment when they were actively disproven, and the occasional bout of lying with statistics to pretend they weren't just Shit All The Way Down. The core premise that certain things were only permitted of or possible for men was bullshit, and I didn't need to surrender the gender I liked best in order to play in the spaces I wanted to. I could simply exist the way I was already existing. I didn't need anything else.
The misinterpretation is the assumption that this being true of me means this is everybody's relationship with gender. I turned out to be cis, so for me, feeling that holding onto my assigned gender wasn't allowed was distressing - just another invocation of the same bioessentialist bullshit I'd been dealing with since the preschool playground. This is because misgendering is fundamentally denying that a person has the right to express themself the way they want. When aimed at me, it says I'm not performing traditional femininity well enough to deserve my pronouns. The same disrespect is the root of misgendering when aimed at trans people. "Perform your gender to my satisfaction or I will confiscate it."
The problem is, bioessentialism is 100% ingrained into the terf playbook, which is why, for instance, all their shitty talking points about trans athletes eventually boil down to "no woman can ever defeat a man in any contest because we are simply naturally weak and stupid and there is nothing we can do about it" and quite frankly nothing disgusts me more than the defeatist acceptance of the very lie that feminism is dedicated to overcoming. Instead of accepting that the paradigm of bioessentialism is a false dichotomy right from the jump, they embrace and weaponize it against the people whose existence proves the dichotomy is a lie. If gender essentialism is fundamentally false, then it is nobody's fucking business what anybody does with their gender. If the lines don't exist, nobody needs to enforce them. And yet there the terfs go, hunting down people whose lives are none of their business and trying to argue that they represent some great and terrible evil, some downfall of society made flesh, something that makes it totally correct and normal for them to spend so much time thinking about strangers' genitalia. They want this to be a noble crusade so badly they won't even examine what flag they're flying.
I love and support the trans people in my life and will always, always stand on the side of your right to exist, but alongside that, terf rhetoric especially disgusts and infuriates me because it is, at its heart, utter cowardice. The world told them they were weak and stupid and inferior and they fucking believed it. And now they think Fighting The Good Fight For Women means turning around and using the same paradigmatic weapon that hurt them to hurt the people whose existence outside the binary proves the weapon is a lie. They're the same shithead schoolyard bullies who made me believe my entire existence was foundationally wrong for years of my life and I will never, ever side with them or the shitty, cowardly rhetoric that contributed to the loneliest years of my life.
Figure out who you are and do it on purpose. Find the real source of the misery in your life and try fighting that instead of the other crabs in the bucket. Trans rights.
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astrolynnworld · 3 months
Text
eiffle tower
pairing: matt & chris x reader
summary: chris sees the way you look at matt. so he gives you the opportunity to have both
warnings: smut! cheating, plot twist, exhibition, degradation, praise, language, oral, penetration, switch matt, dom chris, pig roast, little bit of aftercare.
a/n- the highly requested duo smut 😩
word count: 2,073
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i love chris so much but .. sometimes i can’t help the idea of “what if i had chose matt instead”
he carries himself so well and despite the fact that they’re triplets.. i really do see him as another version of chris
the version that is more tame.
whenever he sits with us at dinner and he just looks so pretty and proper
just eating his meal, observing the conversation, sharing a joke here and there.
he’s not too loud or quiet, he’s the perfect middle ground of enjoyable.
and he’s so caring towards me when chris isn’t around
he’s cooking? he’ll serve me first. dropped my phone? he’ll pick it up for me. too anxious to speak up? he’ll talk for me, regardless of the fact that he also has anxiety.
maybe it’s because i’m his brothers girlfriend but i just sense the underlying message of care
often times then not, chris will catch me staring off into a haze at matt.
i always have to play it off as if i just got lost in thought.
i mean i did get lost in thought..
the thought of matt’s eyes rolled back as i strok-
“y/n??” matt snaps me back into focus
“mhm?” i question as i stand at the fridge door aimlessly
“i think you dozed off again” he laughs slightly, “did you hear what i said?”
i shake my head no softly as i take a seat on the chairs behind me
“you okay?” he asks while inching closer and putting a hand on my shoulder
i look up at him standing over me
“i’m fine” i mutter out
“you’ve been out of it a lot lately. wanna know what would help?” he asks rhetorically
you.
“what?” i say before chris walks into the kitchen
“a hot tub?” chris answers, acknowledging that he had heard a bit of our conversation
“you always wanna go to the hot tub” i laugh as i switch my gaze to him
“it’s not the worst idea chris has had” matt remarks
“i could be down for a hot tub” i reply enthusiastically now that matt is down
“i’ll go ask nick if he wants to come while you guys get ready” matt says
“wait im coming with” chris follows behind matt
i walk back into the bedroom and roam around for something to wear
shortly after, chris comes back into the room
“nicks not coming, he has a fever” he informs as he tries to grab his swim shorts
i nod my head and sit on the bed as i watch him change
“see something you like?” he flirts as he slowly approaches me
“a whole lot” i smile as i look up to him for a kiss
“alright love birds. we can go now” matt comes in fully dressed
i grab my bag and quickly follow behind matt
our go to hot tub spot was at the warehouse, which was only 10 minutes away from their house
once we get there, matt grabs his key card so he can unlock the gate to the pool
we trail around the side of the pool and make our way to the hot tub
they both take off their shirts before stepping into the hot tub
i could see the masculine structure lining in their backs
the broadness of their shoulders
the width of their arms as they lean back against the wall of the hot tub
i’m so lucky that i at least get to fuck one of them bec-
“wait! i forgot my headphones at the warehouse last time. i need to grab them before i forget again” chris says in a hurry as he gets out the hot tub and makes his way back to the house
“and bring some towels please” matt shouts after him
“watch him come back with none” i chuckle at his attempt
“no yeah for sure. kids gonna come back with a pepsi and forgot what he even went in for” he says as we share a laugh
“how do you even put up with him?” he says in a curious manner
“what do you mean?” i question
he starts to inch closer from the other side of the hot tub
“i see how you act, you’re not like him. you’re polite.. clean.. civil.. well mannered. how do you put up with him?” he says while fully towering me
“i- we- well because i love him” i nervously speak
“do you love him? because i see the way you look at me y/n”
i freeze in my spot
“you think i don’t notice but i do. you’d rather be with me huh? you’d rather it be me that you lay with every night right?” he taunts over me
“me who fucks you to sleep? every. single. night.” he whispers into my ear
“matt what are you doing..” i shyly whisper out
“say it baby. say you want me instead” he puts his nose to mine
i look into his eyes, “i want you instead”
he closes the gap between our lips with passion
sloppily pulling away and going back in for more as he wraps his hands around my waist
i feed into the passion, feeling a fire of energy ignite in me
“i KNEW it.”
i heard a voice speak from above us
i jump back from matt’s arms as i look up to see an angry chris standing outside the hot tub
matt starts to slowly back away as chris gets back in the hot tub and comes straight for me
he grabs my throat, “you’re such a slut. making out with my brother when i’m less than 30 feet away? you thought i wouldn’t find out or you just didn’t care?” he asks
i stay silent as i try to release his grip from my throat. only making him squeeze harder
“you know.. i had a feeling you were a slut. that’s why i put him up to this”
————————————————————
earlier:
“wait i’m coming with” i followed behind matt
after y/n walks back to my room i stop matt in his tracks
“i might need you to do a weird favor for me.” i speak hesitantly
matt was a great brother but i don’t know how deep that great would go for me
“what?” he asks
“i need you to tempt y/n into cheating on me”
“.. why the fuck would i do that?” he questions
“i’ve been seeing the way she looks at you recently. i need to know if she would or wouldn’t fold”
he can hear the genuineness in my voice. i wouldn’t ask him to do something like this if i wasn’t serious
i still love her..
i just needed to know if she likes him or not, how far she was willing to go about it.
“alright bro. i’ll try” he says before continuing to walk up to nick’s room
————————————————————
present:
i gasp as i start to find it hard to breathe.
he lets go of my throat and pulls my hair back so i can look him in the eyes
“you wanna fuck my brother so bad right?”
he pulls my head back to matt
“here. have him”
he turns me around and bend me over in front of matt
“bro.. i don’t know about-“ matt starts to speak
chris grabs my throat and shrinks down to my face, “tell him how much you want him baby. tell him how you want him to put it in. beg for it”
i silently stare at him in shock of his new aggression
“tell him.” he slaps my cheek
“please put it in matt.” i turn back and speak
“beg him for it” chris continues
“please matt, i beg you. just put your cock inside me”
matt slides my bathing suit to the side and slowly starts to align himself with my hole despite the water making it hard to see
“good girl” chris speaks before placing a kiss on the cheek he just slapped
matt lets out a heavy breath as he slides himself along my walls
i gasp as i feel the added pressure
“feels good doesn’t it baby? feels good to be a slut right?” chris speaks
i nod my head with my pout
“say it baby. say it feels good to be a slut” chris adds in
“it feels good to be a slut” i whimper out as i back into matts cock while he meets me halfway
chris traces his fingers against my lips, “who’s slut are you?”
“yours chris. i do whatever you say” i whine out as i squint my eyes from the feeling of matt’s cock hitting against my cervix
“mhmm. so good for me baby” chris says as he pushes his fingers in my mouth for me to suck
i can faintly hear matt trying to hold back his moans and whimpered pleasure as he feels my walls suck him in
the tightness of my walls clenching and pulling around him as he struggles to identify wether it’s the warm silky wetness is from me, or the hot tub.
shutting his eyes to focus on the pleasure
chris on the other hand, is so turned on by the idea of me getting slutted out for his pleasure
he likes the idea of another man being able to enjoy me like he does
i can see the bulge peering out through his swim shorts
i couldn’t let him go attentionless so i free his cock and start to jerk it under the water
he pulls away from me and slaps me once again
“did i give you permission to touch me slut?”
i pout and shake my head no
he places his cock on my cheek, “fuck. i could cover your whole face baby”
“please put it in my mouth daddy” i beg, tired of the teasing
“you want me to face fuck you baby? you wanna be a good girl and let daddy face fuck you?” he rhetorically questions
“yes please. please put your cock in my mouth and use me to your pleasure” i whine out before he shoves his cock in my mouth and starts to fuck into me
it’s like every time chris pulls out of my mouth, matt pushes into my hole. and when chris pushes back in, matt pulls out
it was a back and forth train of stimulation that sent my head into a spiral
i lost all my thoughts and all i could focus on was the whines and whimpers that poured out of my mouth into chris’s cock
“fuck keep moaning baby. it feels so good around my cock” chris whines out
“you’re squeezing- around my cock y/n.. fuck i don’t know how much longer i’m gonna last.” matt throws his head back as he starts to speed up the pace, sending me flying into chris’s dick
i know im gonna cum soon. i just feel so dirty, getting fucked and stuffed by two brothers in a public hot tub. it felt so nasty and so wrong, i couldn’t help but think of how hot that was
and imagining if someone caught us. how gross and nasty they would think i am. how much of a slut im being right now. fuck i’m gonna cum
i squeeze around matts cock as i let out my orgasm.
as soon as i finish i feel matt pull out of me, followed by trickles of warm liquid splatter all over my back.
“you’re such a fucking slut baby. you let guys cum all over you? you like when guys treat you like a fucking toy and use you to their liking?” chris continues to degrade
“fuck i’m gonna cum baby.” he finishes his final thrusts before coating my throat with his cum
he pulls out and i sit up in the hot tub with a fucked out expression, not being able to think for myself.
tears dry up against my face from not being able to breathe
matt starts to fix and play with my hair while chris wipes my eyes
“it’s okay baby, i still love you” chris says as kisses into my lips
i don’t respond. still trying to regain my sense
“we should probably get her back to the house” matt suggests
“yeah. let’s go” chris adds before he picks me up and carries me back to the car in a cradle position.
————————————————————
a/n- hope yall enjoyed 😘 i put my back into this one fr
taglist: @sturniologirlfriend @cutiepatootie36273 @secret-sturniolo @sturns-blog @sturniolo-2003 @mayaaatok @sturnswrites @mattsleftnipple03 @mattybswife @tropicasturn @princessbetsy123-blog <333
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upsidedownwithsteve · 7 months
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Steve Harrington x fem!reader requested by anon 18+
You probably shouldn’t have done it. 
Probably. 
But you did anyway. 
The party was loud enough and busy enough that no one really noticed, no one really cared about the way your elbows dug into their sides, parting the drunken crowd as you made your way back from the bathroom.
The lights were low, the room filled with smoke from cigarettes and joints, swirling around the mirrored disco ball that someone had strung from the ceiling fan with a shoelace. Steve was still on the couch, half holding a conversation with Eddie and Robin, half scanning the room, waiting for you.
You dropped into his lap, grinning when he hummed, your skirt riding up your thighs as you settled into Steve’s chest. He was still talking to Eddie about a new band on the scene when you plucked his beer from his hand, taking a long drag. And when no one was looking, when everyone was too busy talking, laughing, singing, smoking, you pressed a piece of lacy, soft fabric into Steve’s fist, replacing his drink with something else. 
You watched his brow furrow when he glanced down, his other hand wrapped around your waist and he hauled you closer, unfurling his fingers slightly before he realised what he was holding. You felt his chest move as he sucked in a gasp, a sharp inhale of surprise and his fingers clenched around the lace, his eyes wide and finding your own. 
“Babe, what the fuck?” He whispered it, a hiss between bass and drums, his cheeks wonderfully pink, pretty and kissable. He was gazing up at you, awe in his eyes, his hand pulled close to his chest to hide his present but you could see the way his thumb buried itself into the cotton, pressing into the damp fabric, feeling you. “Is this your underwear?”
It was a rhetorical question, you were sure. Because Steve’s pupils were blown wide and he hadn’t had any of Eddie’s weed yet. His other hand was skimming up your bare thigh, fingertips ghosting under the hem of your skirt and he knew he’d find you bare, he had the evidence of that in his other palm and he was so fucking hard it hurt—
“Harrington, you good?” Eddie was frowning at the both of you, eyes narrowed at Steve’s flushed face, his glassy eyes. 
Steve couldn’t talk. 
“He’s fine,” you answered for him, using the excuse of yelling over the music to shift on Steve’s lap, biting back a grin at the feel of him hard underneath you. “You’re just a little warm, right, handsome?”
Steve was nodding, head bobbing and he canted his hips ever so, holding you tight against him as he shifted, shoving your underwear into his pocket and then he was patting at your ass. “Yeah, yeah, too hot in here,” he tried to smile at his friends, standing when you did, catching your hand and pulling, “in fact, I think I need some air.”
Steve didn’t even try to pretend, he dragged you out the party ignoring the hoots and whistles of his friends that followed you both out the door. He ushered you to the car, drove it a few minutes down the street until the party was a distant buzz and the streetlights didn’t reach the line of trees you were hidden beside. 
“In the back,” Steve told you and he sounded desperate, he sounded wrecked. “Be a good girl ‘n pull that skirt up for me, honey, I wanna see how pretty you look.”
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allbark-no-bite · 1 year
Text
Don’t Say Love || Rafe Cameron x reader
summary: you notice Rafe is different in the mornings, softer in someways. Definitely not in others
word count: 2.1k
warnings: 18+ smut, wouldn’t consider anything in here a OBX3 spoiler
author’s note: this one’s pretty short and sweet. enjoy :)
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Propped up only by my own elbow and a tangle of his limbs, I caress his timelessly drawn face. There's a half smile underneath my fingers, and I pass my index finger over his mouth. My finger ventures past his lips, pushing them aside to reveal glossy white teeth. Rafe reels his head back slightly as to ward off my ridiculous ministrations.
"What are you doing?" His tone verges on the rhetorical side, obviously possessing little interest in entertaining whatever I'm up to but willing to amuse me for now. It's the least he could do after being inside me just a few hours ago.
Nevertheless, I am relentless, as with all things in life and when he returns to my reach, rather than answering him, I pursue my venture again. This time he allows it, his lip curling upwards to indulge me further. My finger runs along the slick gloss of his pearly teeth — teeth that have both scraped along the tender skin of my throat and aligned on occasion to remind me of just what made him so attractive. I rather adored his pristinely bleached smile and it's viscous canines.
"I love you," I whisper to him. It means no more than the obscenities that I moaned into his mouth last night as he ground his hips into me. It's not a dramatic proclamation of my affection for him, nor a confession in the slightest. I just—I like him. I like him differently than I have ever liked anyone else.
He breaks into a smile and scoffs, almost laughing as he falls backs onto the mattress. "Don't say that," he admonishes gently.
I bite the bottom of my lip to keep from laughing myself. This whole thing was ridiculous. Turning to catch his gaze again, we smile at each other, lips pressed together to convey what we won't say out loud. Something inside me knows he won't be this way tomorrow. He won't share this same look with me, won't be this gentle or placid again.
The thing is, I would go all in if he let me. Would place all my cards on the table if he said he wanted me to. He needs a four? Sure, I've got a four. What else? I would willingly give him everything.
Laying in his bed together the morning after a party is an occurrence that has become more and more common over the past month. Admittedly a welcome one. We're not a item, probably never will be, but it's nice to think that he's mine for now.
With Rafe, things between us are so utterly simple. I don't think I've ever had so much fun with one person. And it's not even that he's so entirely special or even the love of my life. He's cocky and charming and a bit of a jerk at times, but I like that about him.
Sometimes, while we're laying in the darkness together, he tells me that if he had grown up differently he would be less of a nervous wreck and more honest. I tell him that I grew up mostly alone, in a small little house with my alcohol obsessed father, who was still growing up himself when he became a dad. That nothing was ever enough, but how was I supposed to know the difference? I tell him that his family is alright because at least he has siblings and a father who loves him, even if that love is questionable.
He smiles softly and pulls my hand away from his mouth, kissing the palm of it tenderly. His lips grace the inside of my wrist and warmth spreads through my naked body. I slip my leg over his waist, pulling myself on top of him. The white sheets that have been doing very little to cover our bareness slip further down my waist — I am sure much to his enjoyment. His broad chest expands as he breathes in, and I watch the steady rise and fall of it.
"Quit doing that."
"Doing what?" he asks, his voice still gruff with sleep, wondering what I could possibly be on about this time.
"That panty-dropping smile. It's ridiculous."
Twinkling, his blue eyes gaze up at me, as if storing the image of me to his memory. His billowy white shirt is barley enough to cover the top of my thighs from where I'm straddled over him, pining his hips to the plush mattress. The light coming in from the early morning sun seeps in through the curtains, slowly swallowing everything in his bedroom whole and washing us in gold.
"It worked, didn't it?" he chuffs, lazily sliding a warm palm up my bare thigh. Timidly, he hooks a finger on the edge of the sheet bunched around my waist and tugs it back slightly. Without an ounce of shame, his eyes dip down to indulge in my bareness. "God, you're so fucking sexy," he groans, his head falling back onto the pillow for dramatic effect.
Laughing, I lean down to kiss his puffy lips, and he graciously meets me part of the way. I pull away to press my lips to his chin, and then his jaw, and then his collar bone, spending no more time on the next than the first until I reach his shoulder. This time, I kiss the firm muscle there, lingering to drag my nose along his skin. His scent engulfs me – manly, with the lingering traces of expensive cologne and the musk of sex.
With all the tenderness that I can muster, I attach my lips to the hollow of his throat, close my eyes and breathe him in. I want to remember him. All of him. My tongue smooths across his salty skin, working to soothe the already bruising flesh. Beside my ear, the swallow of his throat echos clearly, but he doesn't budge beneath me. His skin tastes salty and raw, unsullied by the usual cleanly redolence of woody soap and washing detergent. I continue to suck until his taste is tinged coppery, and only then do I release him. The imprint remains after I pull away, the impression red and tender on his throat.
There, in the bruising flesh of his skin, is my only claim to him.
In a way, it is impressive — his charisma. He is so good at giving me nothing at all and making me feel as though I have everything. He breathes my name and it sounds like his religion. I'm an atheist, truthfully, but I have come to believe that religion is mostly subjective anyhow. I'm certain the golden cross around Rafe's neck means very little to him.
His jaw cracks open in a yawn, revealing pink gums and pearly teeth again as he reaches his arms over his head and flexes his legs beneath me. I reach out to graze my knuckles along his jaw, reveling in the barely there bristles and the way the sun catches on them, turning blonde to gold. In the morning light, his eyes shine wet with a combination of bleary affection and sleep.
After stretching his body into wakefulness, Rafe grabs my face in his large hands and draws me towards him, kissing my forehead, then my nose, and then the corners of my mouth. His thumbs caress my cheekbones, petting aside lose strands of hair.
"I've got some things to take care of today," he informs me vaguely while gently removing me from the entanglement of his body. Suddenly he's not underneath me anymore, and I'm left on his pristine mattress alone.
It's my turn to stare as he shuffles around the room. Smiling smugly to myself, I watch as he tugs on a fresh pair of boxers from the floor, the material fitting snuggly around him.
"Yeah?" I hum, trying not to sound too disappointed. "What kinds of things?" I really don't care, just want to ask him to stay a while longer, but I'm not sure I should push my luck.
"Family stuff," he answers mindlessly, effectively putting a stop the the conversation as he turns away. His retreating back gives me a perfect display of his sinewy body as he walks into the connecting bathroom. I wait, listening to the sound of water splash into the sink and Rafe brushing his teeth before I muster up the will to get out of his warm bed.
The title is cold against my bare feet, and I whine at the unpleasantness of the sensation. Immediately seeking the comfort of Rafe's warmth again, I curl around him from behind, my face pressed into his neck. He hums from around his toothbrush, one palm leant against the counter as he scrubs with the other.
Presented with the opportunity in which both of his hands are occupied, my own hand that is splayed across his stomach slides downwards. His blue eyes flicker up to mine in the reflection of the mirror. Teasingly, I cup my hand to palm his crotch.
He's already hard, straining against the thin fabric of his boxers. His nostrils flare, toothbrush still in his mouth as my hand slides back up, fingers slipping under the waistband of his boxers, warming to his skin.
Rafe dips down to the sink to spit and rinse his mouth before straightening, both palms gripping the counter. His chest heaves, muscles sliding over his ribs when I take him in my hand. He's heavy and throbbing. There is nothing deceiving about what's being concealed within the confines of his pants.
"You gotta go?" I ask softly, kissing between his tensed shoulder blades as my thumb swipes over his weeping tip. His hips stutter into my hand at the motion.
Rafe swallows heavy, head dipped down as he shakes it. "No, no," he dismisses, his voice thick. He clears his throat. "If you stop now I'll never get that thing tucked into my pants."
I nearly laugh against his back, pressing my lips against his impossibly warm skin again. His blue eyes narrow at me jadedly through the mirror. Not funny, is what that look means.
I pump him lazily a few times, twisting my wrist as my hand slides up and down his shaft. He's already slick with precum and likely very close to coming. There's an a large portion of it already leaking through the front of his navy blue boxers.
"Fuuuuck, baby," he moans, tucking his nose into his shoulder to get a grip on himself. "Jesus—fuck me."
With a whimper that's a dignified as he can muster, his body jerks when I rub my thumb over the swollen pink head. He's breathing hard at this point, trying to breathe and restrain himself at the same time. He won't let go until I say so.
"Good boy," I murmur softly, my lips attached to his shoulder, the top of his spine — the spine that I'm noticing is becoming less and less ridged with each passing week. With his dad off in Guadeloupe, his posture has lost the intensity that it usually carries. His brow has softened too, and he smiles a bit more often.
“You're a good boy, Rafe," I repeat. He is. He's good to me. He can be a good guy when he wants to be. I think people are so focused on this preconceived idea of him that he just goes with it rather than fighting it.
He whines, with his eyes closed, jaw slack, and head hanging down. I change the pace, alternating between pumping him until he's clinging to the sink and going so slow that his hips buck up into my fist, chasing what I won't give him.
"Please, (y/n)," he finally asks, his voice strained as he pants.
I hum, my body lounging nonchalantly against his back, admiring his ability to keep his composure for so long. He's beautiful like this, golden skin flushed red, chest heaving. So much to be trusted with in my hands.
The moment I give him the okay, he's spilling into my hand, his hot release dripping down my fingers and I'm sure the front of his boxers. He sags against the sink, body limp and boneless as the high of his orgasm fades away.
Smiling privately to myself at his sudden lethargy, I draw my hand away as he gathers himself. There's a crumpled towel on the floor that I use to wipe my hand. I’m not entirely sure it was clean in the first place.
Rafe nabs it from me when I’m done and uses it to clean himself up as well. Then, as if he was not doubled over, receiving a handjob against the sink moments before, he splashes cold water on his face and slips out of the bathroom. Through the doorway, I can see him opening and closing drawers as he searches for clothes.
"Very dignified," I hum watching him tug his pants on out of the corner of my eye. "Coming in your boxers."
"Shut up."
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6ix9inewiturmom · 20 days
Text
Rated R Video (Chris’ Version) Part One
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Summary: You and chris are dating and you got invited for a special edition car video which slowly turns into chris doing everything you asked for! Chris x Fem Reader!!
Warnings: Cursing, talking of sexual acts, use of Y/N
A/N: here’s a chris version for yall chris girlys!! lemme know how yall like this one!! part 2 will be smutty so :)
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me and chris have been dating for a little over a 2 years now, chris was was absolutely perfect in every way known to man, but chris had only had 1 body before me so needless to say he a couple things to learn. his fans knew about us since about 6 months in, and i mean obviously we’ve had sex but it’s not like we’ve shared it with all 6 million of them but matt and chris thought it was a good idea to make a ‘Rated R’ video about all three of them (chris and i being a package deal) and their ‘personal’ life regarding sex mostly… i mean i was down if chris was down and boy ive only ever heard him say yes quicker then when he asked me if i was down to join the video… let’s just say nervous was not even close to what i was feeling.
“IM SITTING NEXT TO Y/N” nick yells across the parking lot of target that the boys suggested on filming in
chris rolls his eyes “she’s MY girlfriend and considering the topic don’t you think i should sit next to her?”
i laugh softly “you guys have assigned seats in the car chris, i’ll sit next to nick, don’t worry”
chris hugs me quickly placing a soft kiss on my head before entering the passenger side of the car sitting next to matt and i sit in the passenger rear seat behind him next to nick. matt sets up the camera and presses record.
“HELLO COOL CATS AND KITTENS” nick jokes
“please never start a video like that again” chris can’t help but laugh
“grumpy.. BUT since we talked about a rated R video you guys absolutely blew up talking about it on tiktok and every other form of social media so you ask and shall receive!” nick starts “BUT today we have a very special and important person in the car today.. shes my version of an ‘IT girl’ and i love her to DEATH… Y/N!” nick continues
“hiiii” i say shyly waving towards the camera
“she’s also my girlfriend nick” chris turns around and looks at nick and i with a smirk
nick brings me into a hug and holding me like a child “you know.. CHRISTOPHER… without me yall wouldn’t even know each other” nick says while petting my head in a joking manner
“okay first off, chris turn around. second nick let go of Y/N she looks like she suffocated by the way your holding her” matt spits but with a smile on his face
“okay tuff guy” nick lets me go and i get readjusted to my seat “so i asked you guys to send me some deep questions for us to answer…let’s just say there’s a LOTTT… so let’s get horny shall we” nick smirks doing a little shimmy with his shoulders.
“never say that again” matt breaths out in between laughs
“do any of you guys own any sex toys” nick says with the straightest face i’ve seen
“Y/N owns a vibrator” chris speaks up for me. i move my arm from my side and give him a light slap on his arm.
“well thank too chris for answering a question for me… might as well tell em the color” i laugh out loud
“AND ITS PINK WITH A LITTLE SPARKLE TO IT” chris yells a little too loud so again i give him another slap on his arm
“that was rhetorical chris…” i say shaking my head smiling
“you know i love Y/N like a sister and all considering she’s gonna marry my brother and all but im not sure how long i can sit through this video” nick says laughing
“matt do you own anything” chris says turning his flashlight on to interrogate him
“it’s just me and my left hand as far as i know” matt says holding up his left hand and moving it a little in a motion of ‘jerking off’
“OKAY NEXT QUESTION” nick stops matt abruptly “deepest sexual fantasies” nick looks up from his phone wiggling his eyes brow’s
“WELL mine would be letting my freak flags fly and go all freaky on my girlfriend” chris says smirking and shimmying in the passenger seat as a blush of embarrassment creeps up on my lips
“Y/N your turn” chris turns around to look at me with a deep stare
“ummm well i uh told chris anything he wanted to try sexually” i cringe “i would be down” i shrug my shoulders
“you don’t have ONE deep dark sexual fantasy in that brain of yours” nick questions
“well i guess to be fully submissive to someone i guess…i don’t know tho” i nervously laugh as i look up and see chris nodding his head and turning around
“matt? go on” chris says slapping matt on the arm
“not gonna lie same as chris but im single so one day” chris lets out a playful scream and attempts to dab up matt before nick places his hand in between the two
“that’s not something to dab someone up for ya freaks” nick laughs out
“NEXT QUESTIONNNN” nick says in a sing songy voice “okay most of these are about chris and matt.. really weird…” nick says almost gagging
“no way let me see” chris snatches the phone from nick “OH MY GOD” chris yells making the entire car jump
“i told you jackass” nick snatches his phone back “OOO OKAY A JUICY ONE… how many times in one night have you done it” nick smiles
chris smiles devilishly “6” he says a little too loud and proud
“UMMM Y/N SIX FUCKING TIMES?!?!” nick says turning to me quickly
“WHATTT… you guys were in boston for 3 weeks.. i’m a woman with needs” i hold my hands up trying to defend myself and laughing
“yeah most i’ve ever done is 3…” matt says smiling at chris “you got me beat by DOUBLED” matt dabs up chris
“chris can you not” i laugh at chris
“sorry ma” he smiles at me softly before chuckling
“okay yeah on THAT note thank you guys for tuning in on this adventure of information that even i didn’t wanna know BYE EVERYONE” nick laughs as matt grabs the camera zooming into chris
“i’m gonna get laid” chris says smirking and i slap his arm AGAIN playfully
“Christopher Owen.. shush” i laugh as matt ends the video clicking the red button on the top of the camera
there was a bit of silence in the car as matt was pulling out of the parking lot that was until nick says the most out of pocket thing he’s said to me since i’ve known him
“you know if Y/N was a vibrator she would be a pink and sparkly one.. so her having one is so Y/N coded” he had the straightest face ever plastered on his face as i burry my face in my hands.
“hey don’t talk about Jennifer like that” chris laughs
“YOU NAMMED YOUR VIBRATOR JENNIFER??” nick snaps his head around to look at me
“chris over sharing is a thing and im pretty sure you have a doctorate degree in it” i say muffled in my hands
matt turns up the radio for the rest of the drive but i hear a ping from my phone as i lift it up unlocking it and noticing chris texted me… why would he text me while being in the same car.
“You won’t be walking for the next week when we get home” chris’ message read and i immediately subconsciously press my thighs together and flip my phone over and turn it downwards trying to hide my blush on my lips.
we arrived at the triplets shared home and i’ve never seen chris get out of the car so quickly and dragging my hand out of the garage.
“we’re so tired so we’re gonna go to bed love ya guys” chris yells while practically running upstairs to our shared bedroom and throwing me on the bed letting a yelp escape my lips.
“i wasn’t kidding Y/N.. you’re gonna count how many times i can make you cum in one night” chris says sternly causing a rush of wetness and heat to my core.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
HERES PART 1 OF RATED R VIDEO CHRIS VERSION!! LEMME KNOW HOW YALL LIKED THIS ONE! i tried to make it different from matt’s but LEMME KNOW! it’s a little
short but i didn’t wanna make it exactly like matt’s version but stay tuned for part 2… she’s a working progress BUTTT she’s SMUTTY
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jksprincess10 · 1 year
Text
The handyman part 1 || Joel Miller x reader
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Summary: You broke your bed and need Joel Miller, your handy neighbor in Jackson, to fix it. 
CW: FLUFF, sexual tension, talks about past losses, age gap, not smut but it’s coming.
Read part 2
A few weeks ago, a man and his daughter had moved in the vacant house next to yours in Jackson.  He mostly kept to himself, you knew only pieces of information; he was named Joel, he was Tommy’s brother and he worked in construction in another life. Lastly, he was very handsome for his age.
Having a handyman just next door was a good thing. Especially, when one night, during terrible nightmares, you broke your bed. You fought so hard, because you thought that the dream was real, that the bottom of the frame was split, and you were now sleeping on the floor.
It took you a few days of sleeping badly to build up the courage to knock on your door. When you did, his daughter opened the door. She was well in her teens and had the reputation of being too… honest.
“Yes?”
“I’m looking for… Mr Miller.”
She laughed so hard at how you called him that she had to support herself with her hands on her knees, and you felt your cheeks burning.
“Don’t call him like that, please, he’ll beat your ass.”
“What’s that about, Ellie?”
You heard Joel’s voice and the loud thumping of his work boots, before he appeared behind Ellie. Your eyes traveled to him instantly. He had broad shoulders, curly greying hair, and a trimmed beard.
“Your date’s here I guess.” Ellie shrugged and left you between adults.
“Sorry ‘bout her. What can I do for ya?”
Joel looked down at you. You were a sweet thing, probably just old enough to be born before the outbreak.
“I… uh… sorry to bother you. You told me you worked in construction. right?” He nodded, waiting for you to get to the point. “Guessed you were probably… good with your hands.” You just realized how it sounded and slapped your palm against your forehead. “What I mean is. I need you to fix something for me. Please.  In exchange… I’ll… I’ll cook for you two. Or… anything else you need, really.”
“Just let me get my tools, I’ll be right over.” He tried to ignore his racing dirty thoughts as he went to the garage to bring his trusty toolbox. There’s a lot you could do for him, actually.
He followed you to your home and you opened your unlocked door. “What d’ya need fixed?” He asked.
“My bed.”
“Oh.” Joel responded, fingers playing with the back of his hair in an awkward gesture.
The simple syllable made you realise how bad this all sounded. Joel instantly imagined you getting pounded in your bed by some other young guy in the town that had eyes only for you, until your bed broke.
“I-It’s not what you think, I assure you. Please, follow me.”
Joel followed you up your creaking stairs to your only bedroom. It was a small house, he thought. He kneeled beside the broken frame while you sat on your mattress that was laying on the floor.
You felt out of your place, with Joel in your bedroom.
You felt out of place when you imagined how he would look kneeled in front of you.
“God, what did you do. I can fix the bed legs for now, but we’ll need new planks of wood for the bottom.”
“W-Wouldn’t you like to know what I did.” You smiled, trying to build some sort of confidence. “I don’t. Rhetoric question.” He said while he fumbled through his toolbox to find what he needed. Truth is, he felt jealousy lighting a fire in his stomach. Who put their dirty hands on you?
His coldness kept you silent for a moment while he was putting your bed legs back on the bottom of the frame.
“I… had a bad nightmare. I get violent in my sleep. This is why I sleep alone, I guess.” You explained, even though he probably didn’t care.
He imagined how soft you’d be in his arms, on his own mattress. He would reassure you so you’d sleep well. He grunted in frustration, hoping you didn’t hear. But you did. And you laughed to hide the fact that you were trying to imagine if he would grunt the same way while you were sucking his dick.
He turned around to look at you, hammer in hand and a nail between his teeth.
“Don’t make me use this hammer for laughing at me.” He finally let go of some of his walls to show some humour. “I’m old, being on my knees is hard.” He said as an excuse.
“I’d never. So… wood? Do we have that?”
“Might have to look around a bit. It’s getting a bit late though, so I can do that for you tomorrow. Sorry.”
“Another night of sleeping on the floor isn’t too bad, I guess.”
You felt dumb when you had wished he would have offered to sleep with him. And he wanted to, so bad. Last time he was this close to a woman was… well, we don’t talk about it.
Your silence filled your bedroom, your eyes lost in his stature. The way his flannel stretched against his back, the way his jeans looked tight on his muscular thighs.
“Ellie’s going out tonight. You can probably use her room.”
“N-No, it’s fine, really.”
It was a bad idea, even though you wanted to.
Maybe he had overstepped.
When he was done fixing your bed legs, he got up with a grunt of pain, and walked to you, sitting beside you on your old mattress. He felt awkward, like he didn’t know how to talk to a woman anymore.
“Thank you.” You finally said as you looked up to him. His chocolate eyes were beautiful, even if the wrinkles around them made him looked tired. Maybe he smiled a lot in another life.
He was so close, you could feel the faint odour of soap, buried in his woodsy smell. You could just lean in and kiss him, just to see what he would feel like.
“So… diner, huh? What about now? And just me? Since Ellie’s going out. ”
“S-Sure!”
You got up first to climb down the stairs to your kitchen. He followed you closely, eyes momentarily looking at the sweet curve of your ass filling your jeans.
“I have some chicken and chicken bones to go through, is a soup okay for you?”
“Sounds good.”
He sat at your wooden table so he could watch while you were starting to work on the broth. It would probably take a while.
“So, you live alone?” He observed.
“Yeah. Don’t have anyone to break my bed with.”
You turned around to look at him with a small smile.
How he wished he was pounding into you hard enough to break all your furniture. He would then fix everything for you just to stay longer.
You saw how he shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
“Don’t get hard, asshole.” He thought.
“My… past partner died before I got here.” You finally said.
He thought of Tess. “Same.”
“M’sorry…” You sat on an empty counter while you were waiting for the broth to be ready. You didn’t dare approach him too much, you feared not being able to resist him. “Guess we’re both extremely lonely. At least, you have your daughter.”
“She’s… adopted. Not my real daughter.”
“I see… Want a taste? And see if it’s up to your standards.” You asked as you took the spoon in hand to fill it with the warm and comforting broth.
Joel got up from his chair and approached you, palms on each side of your thighs as he bent down to taste the soup. It felt intimate, feeding him like that. He could probably hear your heartbeat in your whole body.
“Hmhm. It’s good.” He approved.
The spoon fell from your hands, and he caught it just in time.
“I’m sorry. I just… fuck. You make me nervous.” You laughed.
“I didn’t mean to.” He backed away. “I can leave if you want.” You held on his soft shirt to keep him close.
“Don’t. I might have other things to fix, who knows?”
He laughed, and you swore you saw his cheeks getting redder. You let go of his shirt.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to…”
“It’s okay.”
“Make yourself comfortable, Joel, there’s whiskey in the cupboards and beer in the fridge. I’ll watch over the broth while it boils.”
You got back on your feet, eyes staying on the yellowish liquid warming up on the stove, while your spoon was making small waves in the mixture. You didn’t dare to look at Joel for now. You heard him grab a bottle, 2 glasses and ice.
He put a glass beside you, and you smiled shyly. Joel looked at the bottle, that dated before the outbreak. “Good taste.”
“Thank you.”
**
You both finally sat at the wooden table; it was just big enough for 2 people, you didn’t have many visitors. Your legs were almost touching under the table.
“There’s gonna be a lot left. You can bring some at home. Maybe Ellie will appreciate.”
“Sure. It’s way better than my cooking. Can barely cook some chef Boyardee.”
“Damn. You need a woman in your life.” You laughed. The whiskey had loosened you up a little.
“Yes, I do.”
“So… what was life like before this for you? I was like… 6 when it started. So, I barely remember.”
So, Joel was 30 years older than you. He couldn’t keep flirting with you, he felt so bad about it. But you didn’t care.
He almost choked on his drink. “Fuck, you’re young.”
“Sorry.” You shrugged. “Not like I care.”
“To answer your question… there’s not much I wanna talk about it. Life was good with my sweet Sarah.”
“I’m… sorry.” You paused for a moment. “My parents did their best when it started. But they had to give me up to FEDRA at some point. When I was old enough to make my own decisions, I left with my partner. We were on the road for a while, and it lasted like that for years… Until he got infected, and I had to shoot him. After that, I found Tommy’s group and here I am.”
He admired how you could tell your story very calmly and coldly. To reassure you, he put his palm over your hand and softly pressed around your fingers. His warmth pulled you out of your thoughts.
“I’m sorry you lost people.”
“We all lost people, Joel.”
**
When you two finished eating together, you walked him to his door. Your body only wanted to follow him inside, to share more of his body’s warmth.
“You… sure you don’t want to come in?” He asked awkwardly.
“Yes. I’ll see you tomorrow, Joel. Thank you.” You smiled softly. “After all, I’m too young to sleep at an old man’s house, right?” You added as you rolled your eyes.
You got up on your toes to press a kiss on his rough cheek, before going back to your house without looking back.
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aluciahaz · 2 months
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Omfggg ur writing is SO unbelievably good i love it sm 😭🙏🙏
I got kind of a prompt for a sub!vox x gn (maybe afab) reader ✨ Okay so what if, since we all know vox is OBVIOUSLY a bratty bottom, the reader fucks the brattiness out of him? And he goes from trying to be a dom, to resistant bottom, to bratty bottom, to just begging to come with all his life, maybe even crying cuz the reader won’t let him
TYSM!!!! im glad you think my writing’s good ❤️ALSO FINALLY A VOX REQ AGHH
i have like 50094949 drafts for like all of the other stuff in my inbox but i just have to write this vox fic first ok im self indulgent i apologize 😭
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—vox x gn!reader
—includes : sub!vox, dom!reader, light bondage, edging
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vox is so obvious.
he clearly has a thing for control. a need, a desire. it was practically his core personality trait. yet, he’s most certainly not made to wield it.
sure, he can try and sweet talk you, saying sultry things and bragging about his power in order to get you to feel below his level. but you know how frail that persona is. a single slip up, and it would all come crashing down into deafening static.
which, was almost impressively easy to do.
his claw-like fingers runs up your neck, one of them stopping at your cheek as he smirked. if he wasn’t careful, he could fuck up and draw blood. he was tip-toeing the small line here.
a small line that if he crossed, you’d switch up this silly little game immediately, taking the control of the show and making him the contestant.
live only for you.
but, you entertain his farce of dominance, a smile playing on your lips as you see what he has in store…if he had anything, that is.
“you’ve been waiting for me all day, haven’t you?” he asks, clearly rhetorical as he caresses your cheek gently, his voice steady as he speaks. he leads you down to the bed with teeth raking your neck as he crawls over you. there’s something fun about watching him try and fluster you, to get you to say the things he wants. but you were no people pleaser.
“perhaps. unfortunately i can’t say the same for you,” you respond, your smile forming into more of a smirk at the ends of your lips as your hands snake around his delicate waist, tightening around it like a corset.
you can already see the hesitation in his eyes, the brief moment of surprise at your sudden grasp. it was too easy to surprise this man. it’s a wonder he hasn’t exploded yet.
“what do you mean by that?” he asks, his eyebrows furrowing in both nervousness and curiosity, almost like he didn’t want to know. the fingers on your cheek seem to barely just get too rough as he looked at you.
“don’t act like i didn’t hear you in the office this morning, moaning my name like some prayer,” you mock, your knee slotting between his legs with ease. vox keels over at the sudden feeling, a sharp gasp getting punched out of his system with little effort.
“impatient.”
“what’s the big deal? am i not allowed to jerk off anymore?” he complains, bringing himself back up to his hand and knees over you as he glares with indignation.
“i told you to wait.”
“and i don’t remember needing to!” vox snarled, the grasp on your face tightening until you saw him pull it away, a droplet of blood adorning his finger.
simply unacceptable.
instantly, with a loud yelp of complaint and confusion, he hits the mattress with a thud, cursing in annoyance as he looks up at you. his face, once filled with irritation, shifted into one of almost astonished fear as he gazed upon your expression, cold and unforgiving.
“i’ll make you remember.”
his screen flickers before going back to normal, his face scrunched up in anger as he spat out his unwise words.
“i’d like to see you try.”
so, try you did.
his hands were cuffed with plush handcuffs to the bed-frame—you know he wouldn’t be able to handle real ones—and of course since he was never good with self-control, he had a cock ring on as a ‘treat’.
you’re delighted by how much of a fight he puts up though. considering how fragile his ego is, you were sure that he’d melt into your hands the moment you bound him to the bed.
“this is your plan?” vox rolled his eyes, watching you pour lubricant on your fingers with an unimpressed look. “not very impressive. you’ll need more—ngh! shit! give a guy some warning—!”
“beggars can’t be choosers.”
“i don’t fucking beg—!”
“you will.”
there was no mercy from that point forth. one finger after the other, shocks of electricity would course through his veins, mouth agape as your quick hand inside kept making him feel sparks of pleasure through his entire body.
“let me—cum! ass—zz—hole!” he shouted, tugging at the handcuffs to no avail. he wanted to touch himself so bad, yet you were adamant.
“if you ask nicely, maybe,” you tell him, circling your fingers before pressing deep onto that electric spot again, making him cry out in frustration and enjoyment.
all he could do was shoot you a disgusted look before yelling once more, kicking the blanket underneath him in exasperation. his anguish crackled through his veins like a current, trying to fight the urge to just submit.
but it was all too much. he was weak, even if he convinces all of hell that he’s not, he wouldn’t be able to fool you. the bucks of your fingers were replaced with the movement of your hips, making him wail for more.
an hour had passed, and his indignant claims of “i don’t feel anything!” or “you’ll never get me to beg!” shifted into more pleasant glitching screams of “don’t stop!” and “please, more!”
finally, he was using his manners.
“let me cum—ple—zz—se! i c-can’t—!” vox cried out as you quicken the pace, thrashing underneath you with his legs now wrapped around your waist, holding for dear life as you drive into him.
“i—hic—mm! ‘m s—zz—sorry! ‘msorry-AH! sorry!” his back curves off the bed as he squirms, crying in earnest now. tears fell his face with broken pixels blinking in and out underneath, his screen cutting at random points to an error warning from the overstimulation.
“pathetic,” you spit out, your hands digging into his hips as you practically manhandled the man, making him move once he lost all the energy to match your movements. “you listen to me. you do what i say, and you don’t talk back.”
you hear him shriek desperately as you grab his cock, red and weeping as you overwhelm him with pleasure, but never letting him over the edge.
“do you understand? you’re mine.”
you run your finger underneath his tip, and you see him glitch out into an expression you truly loved.
his screen was tear stained and his were graphics broken, yet it was clear enough to see the hypnotizing hearts that pulsated in his eyes as he yelled in defeat, small whimpers leaving his ruined throat as he babbled on and on.
“yours! your—yours! ngh—! please! pl—let me cum! plea—zz—oh, FUCK!”
his whole body trembles from need like electricity burned his skin. his legs fall from your waist, too weak to hold them around you anymore, yet you catch them, pushing the underside of his thighs until he was folded in half.
“cum for me then.”
instantly, vox does as you say as you slip the cock ring off of him, his wails loud enough to shake the room as he finds his release. his screen completely blanks out for a second as a shock flitters around his wrists, frying the cuffs and making them break into two before slumping back down to the bed.
you can’t even scold him for letting his powers go rampant before he pulls you over him, wrapping his arms around you as he sniffles into your ear.
“thank you—hic—thank…thank…”
this big baby. you sigh, rubbing your hands on his sides gently as you kiss his cheek. “yeah, yeah. just remember this the next time you think about acting out, okay?” you said quietly, feeling him nod into your shoulder as he starts to slowly relax.
but as per usual, he apparently forgets what you taught him in the next week.
fortunately, you’re a patient teacher. and you’ll remind him again and again about the lessons he foolishly dismisses.
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sorry that this is shit 💀 i tried my best but the writing juices arent flowing this week😭 hopefully this weekend i wont have writer’s block and will blast through all yall’s reqs!! trust me, im working on them <3
tags: @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @drlucichen @mvskedxrtist
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vernons-girl · 2 months
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doubts | yoon jeonghan
angst to fluff, wc:0.5k
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You were spending some nice quality time with Jeonghan, curled up on your couch and watching a random drama to make the day pass a bit faster.
Usually Jeonghan would always comment the drama with you, that was your little thing, you two would always point out all the stupid things a character would do or say, sometimes if the drama was really bad you would even mute the sound and do your own dubbing to make it funnier than it was.
But tonight there was none of that.
Jeonghan was distant, the only thing you were cuddling was your blanket, not a noise aside from the TV could be heard, he even had the audacity to be on his phone instead of even faking giving attention to what was going on around him.
It wasn’t the first time it happened but you knew that everyone had their bad days so you never thought much of it, you were pretty understanding so you’ve always let it slide, but this time it really hurt your feelings.
And as you were so lost in those thoughts, your walls broke and your eyes starting to water and you breathed out loudly, a shaky and long breath you didn’t know you were holding. 
And this, this caught your lover’s attention, he didn’t think twice and came closer to you, draping an arm over your shoulder and pulling your face eye level to his by softly and carefully putting his hand on your face, fingertips almost shy to make contact with your now warm skin.
“Baby what’s wrong ?” he whispered, as if he was scared to startle you by speaking too loud. 
“Do you even still love me ?” you let out between shaky puffs of air. Jeonghan's eyes widen at your statment, “What ?” he asked in disbelief, “I - Y/N baby where is this coming from ? Of course I still love you. I would not be here otherwise.” he said bluntly, you knew Jeonghan could be harsh with his words sometimes but he was never a liar, he was always honest even though that meants he had to be too blunt from time to time.
But you trusted him, you wanted to trust him and believe that he hadn’t fallen out of love with you. He saw the doubt in your eyes and kept on going, “I know I’ve been kind of a dick these days, I am aware” he said making the both of you slightly chuckle, “And I am genuinely sorry for that but sometimes I just need to close myself off a little, you do that too sometimes but that doesn’t mean you don’t love me anymore, right ?” of course this was a rhetorical question but you still replied with a nod, “See ? I do love you Y/N, more than I ever loved anyone but I have these days where I just want to be with you even though it means just us being in the same room and doing our own thing, I still want to feel your presence because” he brought his face closer to his and said in between every kisses “I - love - you.” which didn’t fail to draw a smile on your face, “I love you too Hannie.” you confessed before kissing him again and pulling him into a hug.
And just like that, the both of you went back to your usual cuddles and comments in front of your drama.
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