#(though also touch ngl)

[heroesriseandfall]

Tim’s self-isolation in the beginning of Red Robin is actually so funny to me because it hardly works.

Tim @ most of his friends and family: nobody contact me. leave me alone. I’m busy. don’t try to stop me.

Tim @ Cass: hey, wanna stay in contact? :)

Tim when Chris Kent asks him for help: I’m actually not Robin anymore so saving people is not my job. Oh her life is in danger? …okay fine but then I’m going back to my thing.

Tim when Kon finds him: I’m busy…Oh you need help? okay…let’s have an accidental heartfelt talk and then we can help each other with our latest emotional crises.

Tim when Dick calls him: don’t call me…ohhh, that seems serious. fine I’ll come to Gotham but then I’m going right back to what I was doing. *finishes up what he was doing* okay I’m back, let’s team up.

Tim when someone he’s never met ends up as the League’s semi-hostage with him: Hey when we’re done do you wanna travel for business together & maybe go on a date?

[found--family]

am i the only one who sensed some jilted lover vibes from jensen? 

[antiadvil]

i know i'm not allowed to give up yet bc i've only been on objectively mediocre migraine preventatives and i haven't even tried botox yet but that's actually not that comforting when it's been several years of chronic migraine, and an entire consecutive year of unrelenting pain, to some degree or another, and trialing said mediocre preventatives, and my insurance company has made it very clear that they don't want me to get botox or one of the monthly CGRP antagonist injections and they'd probably rather i just die so they don't have to keep denying my claims. god. i, too, wish i was dead. but i'm still here and it still hurts so could i at least have some medical care please???

[eff-plays]

So now that I've figured out why Hira might go for Astarion ... I am now struggling to figure out why Astarion would go for them in the long run. Like, because he's barely his own person at this point, what are his preferences? Ya know? Beyond how they treat him, beyond the obvious, what about them is it that he likes? Ya know? "You were kind and patient and trusted me" is all well and good but that's still 1) related to him and 2) doesn't quite tap into the sense that he also wants them for himself for other reasons aside from wanting more of what they're doing for him. Ya know? Ya fucking know?

[brutalmasks]

currently thinking about how, since bunny mask's head / sort of by extension her neck ( yeahhh, i'd say that, because she is NOT immune to decapitation ) are basically her achilles heel in the way that they heal muchhh slower than the rest of her body does + there have even been times where she didn't heal properly at all in those areas... that most of the scars bunny has are concentrated around there.

thus, if your muse is intimate with her in any way, then they'll most certainly be seeing those on her skin and i just 😭 it kind of hits me RIGHT in the feels — and i say this because there has to be a lot of trust there for bunny to feel safe enough to expose what is literally the most vulnerable spot of her body to them, you know? so yeah. that is one surefire way of knowing that bunny mask trusts your muse with her life ❤️

[i3utterflyeffect]

stick alan is such a diverse au though. can be objectively funny but can also be c!alan going 'oh god what have i done' and can also be both at the same time

[aletterinthenameofsanity]

Eleven/Amy/Rory are "I love you to the point of invention" coded in this fic series if y’all even care

[halforcdad]

ngl seeing the way some fans have been speaking on yasmine’s absence this season has been so upsetting like you have grown adults out here really wishing for her to get kicked off her other show (and being disappointed that she isn’t! in this economy!) because some unfortunate scheduling conflicts got in the way of filming s2. it’s one thing to miss your favorite character, but it’s another to wish for someone to lose a job over it (tacking on “glad she stays booked and busy though” at the end of these posts hardly makes it come across any better) 

it’s not like you constantly see poc actors getting work that doesn’t force them to be anything more than stereotypical one-dimensional villains of the week or guest characters that get maybe 5 lines, let alone getting booked consistently, so it should be a good thing seeing an actor you like (especially a woc actor) staying busy and having other projects to work on (and she’s not the only one on the show to do that obviously, they’re actors they gotta make a living outside of the show too)

and there’s also people who talk about lucy's absence like it’s the writers’ fault that she’s not in the episodes, like it was the writers’ decision to just randomly write off one of their regulars and one half of their main couple for half a season. i think it’s fair to say that the writing has been hit-or-miss for s2 (and it’s definitely shakier in episodes where lucy’s absent) and you’re allowed to be dissatisfied with that and critique it, but there’s a difference between critiquing the writing and looking for someone to blame (critiquing the story reasons they’ve written for lucy being out/lack of lucy mentions in the interim vs. blaming the writer’s for leaving lucy out of an episode when yasmine just wasn’t available to film).

i know everyone’s frustrated and afraid of a repeat of s2 where she’s gone for half the season, but that doesn’t excuse anyone from acting like this lol. she’s a series regular, i doubt they’d let her continually miss half the season every season especially for a show she’s not a main character on.

[pacifymebby]

[mycological-mariner]

A foghorn from a yacht, 1871. Found in Penzance. The owner bought it from a friend who was the one to say it belonged on a yacht at some point. The crank in the side is how you get it to make its noise. Can’t really sus out more than that about it than that, but I did find it absolutely beautiful and very cool! I’ve never seen a foghorn like this!

[scattered-winter]

So what is your time fuckery au?? I've noticed you mention it a few times in tags but never found a proper 'thing' about it. As in, there's no fic or main art that I can find

(hope your day is going well <3)

ha, yeah, the time fuckery au mostly lives in my brain only at this point. I've written a few scenes here and there, and even posted a few snippets to my blog, but mostly it's just been an ongoing development in my brain only <3 that SAID. i loove talking about it so i'm glad u asked :] (technically "timeline fuckery au" is probably more accurate because that's what I'm messing with: timelines and alternate universes, as opposed to. literal time. but i called it the time fuckery au once and it stuck. so.)

here's the playlist (I'm constantly updating it) :]]

so basically. there are 2 different versions of the call of duty modern warfare franchises: the og, w three games in the mid-2000s, and the reboot with two games between 2019-2022, and a third game in the works. for the most part, the two franchises are fairly aligned w similar events/recurring villains (such as the shepherd betrayal, which happened in both versions, but in the og it resulted in the deaths of ghost and roach, but in the reboot nobody died. in fact, overall in the og games, everyone on the team was dead by the end except one of them.) in this au, the two versions are alternate, adjacent timelines. all the deaths that happen in both* timelines are fundamentally Not Supposed To Happen, and so some Freaky Timeline Shit occurs to try and correct it. the two soaps trade places. og soap ends up in the reboot timeline with the reboot team, and reboot soap ends up in the og timeline with the og team. at this point, reboot soap and ghost are in a relationship, and the 141 is all very close, and so of course it's a big mess when soap wakes up in a universe where everyone looks like his closest friends/boyfriend but they are, fundamentally, different people. and the same goes for og soap, who's suddenly thrown into a room with people he half-recognizes but none of them are Right. and what's more, some of the team is Not There when they should be. (like roach).

*as of the 2022 game, nobody in the main team has died yet, BUT the third game is involving makarov, who was the villain who caused the deaths of several team members in the og, so I'm taking some liberties with the timeline during that period. so in the unchanged reboot timeline, several team members died.

(i would also like to point out that the actual switch happens before all the deaths happen, obviously. HOWEVER, both soaps know exactly how the original, unchanged timelines are gonna turn out if they don't do anything. it's basically just a very fucked up timeloop.)

to make matters worse, the soaps are connected to each other even before the actual switch happens. reboot soap has nightmares of his team dying right in front of him (gaz shot, ghost burned, etc) but they're not his team. they're the og team. but ofc he doesn't know this yet <3 and this ofc happens vice versa, but I haven't figured out specifics for how the reboot team dies yet so I can't tell you anything about it lmao

and the dreams don't stop after the switch!!! because why bother sending them to alternate dimensions if not to remind them what will happen if they fail!!!! and the entire time, they're also racing against time because having two people Cross Realities is throwing the continuum out of whack, and so it's trying to Find Equilibrium Again by merging the two soaps more and more as time goes on. reboot soap wakes up with a scar that he didn't have before, but remembers getting. on a mission he never went on. og soap is talking to ghost (with all the awkwardness of talking to someone who's dating your alternate self) and he calls ghost something that only soap--reboot soap--ever called him. he just. Knew. and so on top of everything else, they also have all the fear of slowly losing themselves <33

and of course they manage to save both teams (and also bring reboot roach into the team godbless <33) and things return to normal but not before there's a LOT of angst and timeloops and timeline fuckery going on. this whole au is basically me just taking both canons and attacking them with scissors and then gluing the little pieces together into a collage. and then rinse and repeat. I'm having soooo much fun with it :]]]] and of course, at the end before the timelines fully go back to normal, the teams get to meet their alternate selves :]] self recognition through the other except it's you from another life :]]] here's a lil snippet :]]]]]]

Simon stood in space. Stars wheeled overhead and below, clustered in colorful nebulas in explosions of color and light.

And across from him stood…himself.

Ghost was holding himself the same way Simon did; weight evenly distributed on each foot, gaze constantly shifting from person to person and window to door. Ready to act at a half second’s notice.

Simon could see the moment Ghost noticed him; a slight stiffening to the shoulders, a straightening of the spine, a subtle slide of the foot to gain a better defensive stance. All miniscule tells, but to Simon, glaringly obvious, a blinking neon sign.

Were Simon’s tells always this clear, or was it simply because he knew to look for them? He could read the other Ghost like a book; the subtle tilt to his head as he sized him up, the tension in his shoulders as he decided if Simon was a threat. He could read the other Ghost and see how he himself was being read; another tilt to Ghost’s head as he clearly came to the same conclusion as Simon.

“You’re the other one.” His voice took Simon off-guard. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but this wasn’t it: soft, rounded at the edges, like a stone worn smooth by a stream. But behind it was that edge, that gentle tone of danger. Even from a different world, that was still the same, with perfect, striking clarity.

Simon wasn’t sure what to say. What was there to be said? Here he stood, before someone who was his double in nearly every way, who likely already knew what he was thinking because he was thinking it, too.

“How’s the team?” was what he said at last, rough, abrasive voice grating against Ghost’s softer tone.

“In one piece. Thanks to your man.” Your man. Did this Ghost know what Johnny meant to him? He must; he was Simon, after all.

“Yours did good work here, too,” Simon said, though they both knew Captain Mactavish wasn’t his.

They fell silent, as they both preferred, simply studying one other. Ghost had sunglasses over his mask to veil his eyes, something that Simon had done himself on occasion. He liked it when nobody could see his eyes, but hated how it limited his field of vision.

It was unnerving, the way he was so very much like himself. The mask, the name, the way Ghost stood. He was a dead man walking, they both were. Had he suffered the same things Simon had suffered? He must have; why else would he wear the mask, and stand like that, like an attack might come from any direction?

For a moment, Simon looked at Ghost and Ghost looked at Simon. A pair of reflections, a pair of echoes. For the first time in his life, Ghost could peer out into the darkness and see his own face looking back at him.

Then Simon broke the silence, voice as haggard and vulnerable as he would allow it to be in the empty space between worlds, where stars flickered under their feet and where there was nobody to hear but himself.

“Were we better off dead?”

Ghost paused for a moment, hesitated, looked Simon up and down, and Simon knew he wasn’t just seeing him standing there. He was seeing the coffin six feet under, the choking dirt, the dead bodies in the flat in London, the rivers of blood staining his hands, so much of it that he could never wash it all off. The nightmares. The kills. The missions, one after another after another, because the war never ended, not really, not for him.

“I don’t know. Maybe we were.”

And there wasn’t anything else to say, not after that. Simon sighed, felt the universe sigh with him, and dipped his head in acknowledgement. A few feet away Ghost did the same, and had Simon been able to see his eyes, he would have seen himself reflected there, just like everywhere else.

And then the stars and the mirrors melted away, and Simon woke up.

[mad-hunts]

✧

send me a ✧ and i’ll bold all that apply to your muse! (with italics as a 'sometimes' option because i'm a rule-breaker and things may depend on the situation).

i would kill you. ✧ i would physically hurt you. ✧ i would attack you unprovoked. ✧ i would manipulate you. ✧ i dislike you. ✧ you annoy me. ✧ you scare me. ✧ you intimidate me. ✧ i hope i intimidate you. ✧ i pity you. ✧ you disgust me. ✧ i hate you. ✧ i’m indifferent toward you. ✧ i’d like to get to know you better. ✧   i’d like to spend more time with you. ✧ i’d like to be friends with you. ✧  i’m unsure what to think of you. ✧ i’m unsure how I feel about you. ✧ you are my friend. ✧ you are my best friend. ✧ you are my mentor. ✧ i look up to you. ✧ i respect you. ✧ you are my hero. ✧ you inspire me. ✧ you are my enemy. ✧ you make me happy. ✧ i want to protect you. ✧ i would fight by your side. ✧ i consider you an equal. ✧ i think you are beneath me. ✧ i think you are above me. ✧ i would lie for you. ✧ i would lie to you. ✧ i would sleep with you. ✧ i would sleep by your side. ✧ i would hug you. ✧ i would kiss you. ✧ you are family to me. ✧ i would die for you. ✧ i would kill for you. ✧ i would trust you with my life. ✧ i would trust you with my most precious belonging. ✧ i would trust you with a secret. ✧ i would trust you with my biggest / darkest secret. ✧ i love you (platonically). ✧ i love you (romantically).

[ragnars-tooth]

If anyone is mean to me I will explode and also cry <- moving again :/

[bunbunlovestowrite]

Yandere!Tentacle Monster x Fem!Lighthouse keeper! Reader

Damn that title long

Cws: Tentacles are referred to as more than one, reader is a bit of a perv for wanting to bang monsters, consensual somnophilia, excessive cum, cumflation, penetration, the monster is buff ngl 💦, this is supposed to be freaky/kinky :p also reader is morally grey

SFW

You've always loved solitude. Even when you were a young girl in foster care.

Fog, mist, rain, thunder, dark clouds, all of those added to the feeling of being enclosed where no one else was.

You don't like sunny days. Not in an emo way but in a need for a calm, and the blistering sun couldn't bring you that.

Fast forward 20 something years and you struggle to stay at a job because of people. Rude customers, loud kids, lazy coworkers. Hell you got fired from your local grocer because you threw a cabbage at some entitled asshole.

And by some luck, you weren't in cuffs yet. Fate? Prolly lol

You were reading the newspaper one day and saw an ad for a lighthouse keeper. It must have been urgent if it was in the paper 4 times.

The people you met for the job were shady as hell. But they offered to pay good for you to just take care of the lighthouse completely alone for 6 months.

They put you on a boat and shipped your ass out to an island hours away from the mainland.

It had the lighthouse (duh), a cabin for you, a very small forest, and beaches covered in driftwood and seaweed.

It was foggy, cold, and wet with no sun peeking through the clouds.

Perfect.

The people who hired you were eager to get off the island. So immediately after showing you the basics they ran off.

The cabin was old and rustic, with a few holes in the roof that were covered by aged duct tape.

There was an outdoor shower and the place used gas lamps for light.

But you enjoyed it. The solitude.

Now let's skip to two months later.

You got the hang of keeping the light on and keeping it fixed. The stairs definitely worked you out though.

You spent 80% of your time using the small workshop to repair the cabin. It eventually looked slightly livable.

Everything was completely normal

Until that day on the beach.

You were outside your cabin showering.

The outdoor shower didn't exactly have curtains so you were exposed to the beach it faced.

The hot water kept you comfortable in the cold weather and you were relaxed...until you heard a growl.

You assumed it was an animal and looked around when you saw something light purple disappear into the ocean waves.

Coral you thought just coral

You went on with your week like nothing happened but you always felt watched.

It wasn't until one night during a storm you felt it.

A storm had hit the island hard, it was freezing and your shitty blankets did little.

You barely managed to fall asleep when something warm engulfed you, arms and slimy embraces.

You screamed in shock and fear but your unwelcome bedmate held you harder and wouldn't let you move.

It was only after you calmed down that it relaxed.

Light purple skin was what you noticed when looking down. With scales in areas that were slightly darker.

The tentacles were wrapped around your legs tightly, writhing in certain areas.

You got a better look when your holder put you on your back and sat above you.

A humanoid creature with light purple skin and what seemed to be a jellyfish head sat on its actual head. It had no nose and completely white eyes, not to mention a gentle smile.

It cooed at you, dragging it's hands up your stomach and sliding up your bra.

Slimy and warm, that was it's skin.

You normally would have thrashed and kicked, but maybe it was the pheromones the creature left out, or how one tentacle pressed right against your cunt through your damp shorts.

But you moaned when it touched you. A soft, unashamed moan.

The tentacle at your shorts practically tore them off, panties included, and it slid up and down your slit and flicked against your clit.

You watch as it's hand fondled your tits and pinched your nipples, its eyes slightly lidded.

You let your body roam down it's chest and saw it didn't have a cock. It was kinda like a ken doll. But the tentacles must have the same effect as one when you saw white precum drip from the larger tentacles tip.

More tentacles held your arms and legs open while the tentacle squirmed into you, thick and struggling.

There wasn't a part of you it didn't fill. Your stomach bulged slightly as it didn't wait and immediately moved in you, wiggling before pulling out and slamming back in.

The cabin was full of lewd wet noises and your cries, along with the creature chirps and coos while it pet your head that night.

NSFW

There wasn't a second it didn't have a tentacle on or in you.

Despite its main body being in the water there was a tentacle wrapped around your legs that you never found the start of.

It had an iron grip and wouldn't come off unless the creature itself was nearby.

When the tentacle wasn't dormant it would rub against your clit through your pants or would be in you, gently drawing orgasms after orgasms until you begged it to let you breathe.

The creature was never gone for more than a few hours. And when it came back it came with gifts.

Shells, pearls, fish, jewelry it made or rusty jewelery it found on the bottom of the ocean.

You noticed it liked it when you wore the jewelry during sex, mainly due to how much rougher it was.

Then there was the slight fear of getting knocked up.

Every single time you had sex you would try and tell it to pull out but it would just smile and pet your head before cumming in you for the third time that hour. And you loved it.

Sometimes, when you were especially needy, you'd put on more of a show when showering.

Even touching yourself when you knew it was watching. The creature loved it.

You'd see it stand in the water and would beckon you closer, to which you happily obliged.

You'd meet in the water and it would kiss you roughly before lifting your legs around its waist and kept you above the water as it fucked its tentacles deep into you. The water mixing with the (possible) gallons of cum that spilled from you

One of your favorite things was waking up to its coos and growls.

You'd be held tight by its tentacles while it found shoved it's tounge in your cunt, hitting deep spots with its flexible prongs.

Other times it would wake up to you using one of its tentacles, whining when you couldn't get it to stay stiff by itself. It would act asleep and slowly stiffens the tentacle so you could have your fun.

What a perv you are

But then again the sun's gonna blow up one day so :p

It seemed to have infinite stamina and an infinite libido.

It could be the most inconvenient time ever and all you need to do is give it a look before your suspended in the air by your hands while it curls a smaller tentacle around your clit and fucks you with its thick one.

The creature was possessive before you knew it was there, especially when people dropped off your supplies.

But now that your it's? A whole new genre of possessive.

On time you had to keep a straight face while talking to someone cause the mini tentacle was rubbed right against your g-spot while somehow rubbing your clit under your skirt.

It even started biting you hard enough to leave marks.

--

Requests are open :)

[lawchwan]

do you like the sound of the music? (law, ace, sanji, zoro, kid)

summary: how the boys sound when they're getting pleasured. reader: gn!reader genre: smut disclaimer: not super detailed smut, but a grave detail on how these fine men sound like a/n: I know I haven't done an a/n, but it has been a minute since I posted here. I have been preoccupied (thanks to being a senior at uni) but now that I am done with everything, I hope I have more free time to post some fics and reignite my love for writing. I won't bore you much and we will proceed with more content (also my fem!law fic is in the works and it'll be put out sometime soon)

crossposted on ao3

Law

as much as i'd like to advocate for the whimper-whiny-loud-subby!law agenda that i have been adapting to my psyche while i was gone, he seems like the quiet kind while he's pleasuring you.

obviously not the type to be overtly silent to the point you won't hear a breath out of him. he's just simply a grunter and a light growler. he won't be very vocal unless you want him too.

when he comes, thats when you hear the magic beautiful sounds. it depends on the type of sex, dynamic, and/or pace you two have set in, he’ll either grunt a dragged deep moan or a slight whimper that cascades into your ears as he spills out his load onto you.

“mm, shit, fuck, y/n, you feel so fucking good…fuck~”

ace

oh that loud ass motherfucker. if you expect him to quiet down, well you’re out of luck. even if you placed a gag on his mouth, he’ll still spill out the loudest moan any human could produce (please gag him, he actually loves it).

ngl he kinda is the type to give exaggerated noises, like im talking those very exaggerated moans that you would hear in those shitty pornos (that ace may or may not unironically enjoy).

if you want to illicit the most hottest whimper that spills out of his mouth, simply just stroke and tug on his wavy locks—he will definitely go feral over this simple manuever. his mouth would probably be wrapped around your nipples, and his muffled moans could be heard on the outside, disturbing whoever’s nearby.

“mm—pfah! you think you can cover my mouth, baby?! huh?! think again—oo FUCK!~”

sanji

another loud boy. maybe not as loud as ace, but definitely can be loud if he needs to be.

he’ll honestly let out the most cutest and hottest moans any person can produce, it can even border into whimpering. he does get embarrassed when he gets super loud though, so keep a gag nearby if needed.

he’ll, however, take pride that only you can push him into the edge and let him produce music to your ears, much to the dismay of the crew. he’ll sometimes purposely moan out loud if it means to piss off zoro and keep him up from his slumber, leaving the green mosshead disgruntled and disgusted.

“oh~oh my god! y/n! you feel so—fuck!”

zoro

zoro’s a grunter. next.

no but in all seriousness, he does seem like a grunter and the type to give you dirty talk. he, like law, is not that talkative but he’ll say the most filthiest of shit in your ears that will leave you melting under his touch.

he’ll also maybe taunt you by groaning along with you with a smirk as he looks down at your wet parts.

“aww, you want my cock that badly?… well you might have to beg for it”

kid

jesus this man is crazy in bed. he strikes me as the type to be a growler. he seems to me to be very animalistic as he rails you like there’s mo tomorrow.

i can see him pinning your hips down as he thrusts himself into you, throwing his head back, letting out the loudest growls and groans as he speeds himself up. he’ll probably start talking in haste manner as well as soon as he feels himself getting closer to let his waterfall out.

“c’mon.. fucking, c’mon! you better come for me. come for me. come for me. come for me—grrr FUCK!”

characters are owned by oda. i will not tolerate nor accept translation, reposts on other websites, or plagiarism. divider made by mmadeinheavenn.

[spencerreidenjoyer]

love bites | spencer reid x reader

word count: 2k, rating: 18+/explicit

tags: established relationship, hickeys, cunnilingus, vaginal sex, overstimulation

a/n: hello again... i'm back with another pwp fic... idk where this came from ngl, but i sort of ran away with this idea of spencer leaving hickeys and this happened lol. also i've been having chip taylor (mgg's character in 68 kill, a guy who has the biggest, wettest eyes and fucks like a madman) on the brain lately so this is definitely inspired by him too ❤️

(p.s: you can also find this fic on ao3!)

Spencer always wants to give you everything you want. He’s eager to please, with those wide puppy-dog eyes that stare up at you, that gaze that makes your insides warm, the tension between you two that makes you want to spread your legs. Not like you would put up a fight anyway.

He was already such a sweetheart on the date you just came home from, a nice dinner at a nice restaurant. Spencer was a proper gentleman, who was playing footsie with you under the table. You’d wanted to jump his bones the moment you’d left the restaurant. You hoped Spencer would get the hint, from the way you were tracing circles with your fingers onto his thighs on the drive back to his place.

“Baby,” you hum, while Spencer kisses down your neck. He always treats you like a princess, makes you feel so revered.

Sometimes, he loses himself in making you feel good. You have to call his name again – “Spencer–!” you say, in a whimper, before he responds.

“Hmm?”

“Are you leaving marks?” You ask. You feel a little conscious about it, because having to wear a turtleneck to work in the summer heat is definitely funny, but kind of embarrassing.

Spencer’s lips pause against your neck. He murmurs, “Do you want me to?” and you feel his warm breath on your skin as he says it. Your hair stands on end, your body reacting to how close Spencer is to you.

Spencer pulls away, and you mourn the loss of his warmth for a moment. He looks at you, the hazel of his eyes so deep and sweet that you feel like you could lose yourself in them. “Then I can leave them in places that you don’t have to worry about.”

“What? Where?” You ask, but your mind starts running already. His lips on your body. His gaze, scorching as he stares up at you.

He doesn’t give a verbal response, rather lets his hands fall to your waist and slips his thumbs under the waist-cutouts of your dress. Where the tips of his fingers touch your skin, you feel like you’re burning with desire already. Spencer asks, “Can I?”

“Please.” Your voice comes out breathier than you’d like.

Spencer pushes your dress up, revealing your thighs, your stomach. His fingers skirt over your skin softly, the touch almost ticklish. The dress goes up, up, up, until Spencer helps you tug it over your head. Even with the sweet gesture, him getting you undressed is making you flush, the attention he gives you and the lust in his gaze making your stomach flip.

Spencer’s lips find their way back to your neck. You hold your breath as he kisses his way down the column of your neck, taking his time. He kisses your collarbone, then the top of your breast. He nips the skin between his teeth.

“Someone’s bitey,” you gasp, trying to joke.

“Did you know that while the Brits call hickeys ‘love bites’ , you don’t actually need to bite to break the superficial blood vessels under the skin’s surface? Suction is often sufficient to cause bruising.” Spencer murmurs, as if the fun fact is absolutely necessary to him giving you a hickey on your breast. It’s cute to you, though. It kind of turns you on.

“‘Love bites’ are a cute name for hickeys, though.” You laugh. “And sucking… Isn’t that kind of gross?”

Spencer’s eyes flit up to meet yours. “I think it’s hot… I mean, being so desperate to mark you up, that I can’t control myself. Being willing to do anything to make it known that you’re mine.”

Arousal washes over you. “Jesus Christ, Spencer.”

He surges forward to kiss you, slow and languid and kind of sloppy. Still, you can feel the desperation behind his movements, his eagerness as he basically eats your face off. Spencer pulls back panting, eyes studying your face, your shirtless figure, your breasts in your bra. He stares greedily. You’re wet between your legs already.

Spencer dips his head down to press his lips to where your breast spills out of the cup of your bra, flicking his tongue over a spot he’s chosen. His front teeth graze over your skin gently. Spencer nips the skin between his teeth, sucking softly. It makes your hair stand on end – the wet sounds coming from his mouth, the heat of his breath on your skin, the slow but pleasurable twinge of pain that sinks in when he sucks a mark into your breast.

It’s erotic, the way your hand is tangled in Spencer’s hair, holding him close to you as he continues to mark up your chest with his mouth. Spencer’s hair is so soft between your fingers, slightly messy and curling at the ends. He’d moved on to mark up your other breast, his large hand cupping you perfectly, like you were made for him.

Spencer litters hickeys all over you, on your tits, your stomach, and he kisses along the waistband of your panties when he gets to them. You only have to whimper to get him to slide them off as well. He kisses your hip bone, while his hand on your other side feels you up. You feel Spencer slide his hand from the swell of your ass, to feeling the meat of your thigh, before his hand comes around and pushes your leg out to spread your legs.

“Babe,” you moan, as Spencer bites down gently on your plushy inner thigh. His tongue laps over where he had bitten, acting to soothe you from any pain, and he sucks a mark into your thigh. You see the marks of his teeth and the redness of the spot, the beginnings of a bruise. He moves over to your other thigh to give you another mark, then his lips trace their way closer to the heat between your legs, giving you more marks on the way up.

You gasp when he presses a kiss to your clit, your wetness extremely obvious to you now as he blows cool air to tease you. You shiver. Spencer laughs, “Needy. You’re so wet.”

“Because of you, baby,” you sigh, running your hand through his hair to push it back, letting you admire his gorgeous bone structure and those wide eyes of his. “Need you.”

Spencer hums, smiling to himself, as he settles himself between your spread legs. His hand comes up to your heat, two fingers spreading your lips before he leans in, licking a fat stripe up across your hole, to your clit. You moan shakily as he flicks at your clit, playing with you, the tip of his sharp tongue making pleasure jolt through your body.

You let out a sigh when he presses his face deeper because you didn’t think he could get any closer, and you feel his mouth on your cunt– slurping, licking, breathing heavily as he eats you out fervently. He gives you head like he was born to do it. The way he pleasures you makes your head spin, amidst all the slick, wet noises, and Spencer’s own eagerness to make you feel good.

You lock eyes with Spencer, his piercing gaze meeting yours from between your tits. It’s almost funny, but you’re too turned on to even joke about it. You tighten your grasp in his hair. He whimpers, a sound you never get tired of hearing, and the vibrations to your cunt make you shiver.

You want him in you, now. You tell him that. Spencer pulls away, his wide eyes seeming dark and serious.

He wipes his mouth and chin with the back of his hand, shiny with your slick and fluids. You watch the pink of his tongue dart out as he licks his lips. You whimper a little as he gets onto his knees between your spread legs, his nice button-up, slacks and boxers off and on the floor. You admire the smooth lines of his body, the softness of his stomach, his happy trail leading down to where he’s hard and leaking into his hand.

There are no words exchanged, just a knowing glance that tells Spencer to hurry and do it. Spencer’s always been good at following instructions, and he knows you and your likes like the back of his hand. You know he always wants to please.

One hand on your hip, Spencer’s other hand guides his cock to your hole. He teases the head of his cock over your clit, circling over your entrance. You can only imagine how wet and sticky you are down there, with Spencer’s cock making you even more of a mess.

He puts the head in, watches intently as he slides in, and you look up at Spencer, breathing hard. He stops for a moment and begins to pull out, only the tip inside of you. He’s such an ass. You glare at him. Spencer grins cheekily.

“Spencer–” His name leaves your lips brokenly as he suddenly presses himself deeper, in, in, in, until his cock is bottoming out and you feel so incredibly full. “Fuck me.”

Spencer grunts, eyebrows furrowed as he starts fucking into you. He goes hard and fast, knowing that’s how you like it: his skin slapping against yours, the slick sounds of his cock pounding into your hole downright obscene. Even while you shake from the force he’s putting into fucking you, Spencer’s face reads like he’s trying hard to keep it together, trying to concentrate on making you feel as good as he feels.

His mouth falls open as he grips the headboard, fucking you relentlessly. You hold onto his biceps for dear life, close to screaming as he rails you. Spencer moans, as your fingernails dig into his arms in your desperate need, “Fuck, you feel so good. So tight, angel. All wet for me.”

“Spencer, fuck, oh my God–!” You cry out, helpless, horny, feeling like you’re in heaven as Spencer fucks you just how you want, just how you need. His cock hits all the right places, deep inside of you, fucking you open like you’re made for him.

And then, your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, your body jolting with the pleasure that overtakes you. It’s so good, Spencer ramming into you till the overstimulation starts to sting, pleasure tinged with pain around the edges, and your clenching and writhing has Spencer pushed over the edge as well, his head dropping between his shoulders as he comes with a groan, loud and whiny, his load spilling inside of you.

You’re both breathing hard, but your eyes meet his, and you share a small smile. Spencer has paused, cock softening inside of you, and he kisses you softly. You taste yourself on his lips. You don’t care, and kiss him back. Both of you giggle when you pull away.

One of Spencer’s hands falls from the headboard to your body, his fingers gentle as they skirt over your curves, a sharp contrast to the way he was fucking you just moments ago. His hand slides over your breast, your stomach, your thighs – thumbing over the marks he’d left behind. Spencer presses down on one on your inner thigh. You moan as he grabs the meat of your thigh eagerly. He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your knee.

“I love you,” you giggle softly, feeling like you got your brains fucked out. “You’re too sweet to me.”

“Why wouldn’t I be sweet to you, darling?” Spencer answers softly as he leans in, kissing your jaw gently. Your cheeks feel warm. “I love you too. Let me clean you up.”

You hum softly, laying back while Spencer gets up. You watch as Spencer, even more gorgeous in his post-orgasmic glow, grabs a small towel and slips onto the bathroom. He emerges quickly enough, the towel now damp, and slides back into bed next to you.

Spencer glances down at where you’re wet and messy. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, mind clearly busy, and asks, “Wanna let me finger you before we really go and get clean?”

You let out a laugh, and after a moment’s pause: “Yeah, okay."