#HES SO IMPERTINENT

[mydairpercabeth]

annabeth: this seems impertinent

percy: i am impertinent

[bookishjules]

keeping the "they'll think we're impertinent" / "i am impertinent" lines from the book???? iconic. incredible. reminded me i have never once known what impertinent means

[yaozongzhupressoffice]

does a-yao is gay

Anon-gongzi this line of inquiry is MOST indecorous!!!! Surely you don't expect your humble sect leader to have ANY interest in spreading such SALACIOUS gossip regarding the personal affairs of the gentry!!!

why, what have you heard?

[aphroditusiscorroded]

Poseidon trying not to lose his shit in front of the other gods after Percy FedEx-ed delivered Medusa’s head to Olympus

[platoapproved]

😕...

[iaminchargeofthisdisaster]

Thanks to PJOTV for temporarily convincing me that Percy was not going to send Medusa's head to Olympus- genuinely one of the scenes I was most looking forward to in the show- and then delivering it PERFECTLY. Him comparing Medusa's head to a battery? Annabeth and Grover trying to talk him out of it? THE SONG from earlier? Delightful. The details are different from the books, but everyone is still so in character that I absolutely love it.

[kinokoshoujoart]

the AnWL guide by dengeki arrived in the mail today and i’m losing my mind so have some Just Rock rough translation stuff

this guide is more thorough and like. official? with cute comics and even an interview with wada… (i translated the rock one asap but gustafa and marlin have ones too! and a bunch of cute pony!!! yayyyy!)

i wanna sit down and translate and format more sections in full when i have time, but for now i’ll just share a few rock snippets then get back to Drawring because i will explode if i don’t!

spoilers for uh… rock mystery solving…?

starting with the point blank shotgun blast to the face because the guide fell open to this page and i was immediately KOd by it!!

i guess that’s not the biggest surprise but i’m more surprised that they just outright said it in his little bio… i think this is the closest to canon closure we’ll get on this mystery

loserboy

the interview with yasuhiro wada is extremely interesting. he breaks down the personalities of the bachelors and their dynamics with the rivals. i want to post it but i’m especially anxious about making a mistake in anything mr. wada says so i want to consult with someone who knows japanese past a sufficient-to-play-farming-game-level first

but i’m confident in these so here

—Rock, Marlin, and Gustafa are the candidates for marriage, but why were these three chosen?

Wada-san: They were picked from among the men in Forgotten Valley by a kind of process of elimination (laugh)

officially just a silly guy

[def-not-kaz-brekker]

Okay okay okay but Percy and annabeth in the show Annabeth starts out just following the new kid around you know routine shit and Percy is just so lost he doesn’t have his best friend anymore because he got snitched on his moms fucking gone and he fought a motherfucking Minotaur also apparently his dads a god and then she sees him explode a toilet and okay okay maybe he’s one of the big three let’s see him in action during capture the flag he has no fucking clue what’s going on his only friend is luke he’s in the reject cabin this weird girl is talking him and he has a pen that turns into a sword and also his old teacher is apparently a centaur and the weird girl pulled him away from his friend who told him that the girl is really smart so you know he follows her then she ducking abandons him in the middle of Nowhere and he just chills then he gets attacked by the bully girl and then their team won at capture the flag and then he gets pushed in the water and then he’s claimed by Poseidon and now they’re on a quest and then they get attacked by furies and then there’s Medusa and now they’re friends and now they’re in a train together and then they get attacked by echidna and then Percy is poisoned by the chimera and then Annabeth finds out her mother doesn’t care.

She was embarrassed by annabeths impertinence and so she has to save her two friends, one of which is poisoned. She has to sacrifice herself.

Percy finds out he got Annabeth in trouble. His only friends are gonna die because of him impertinence. He has to sacrifice himself.

A child of the big three sacrifices themself again to save Annabeth and Grover.

[zareleonis]

navia being one of the only fontainian characters who frequently doesn't bother with any titles or honorifics when talking about furina is sooooooooo good

[likeafairytale]

what died didn't stay dead, you're alive, so alive in my head.

[shytimelady]

really kind of sucks realizing that people you know are living your dream life and not knowing how to ask them about it

[justaghostingon]

Word of honor so far:

Ghosts: you have a plan right boss?

Wen kexing: oh yeah! I’ll tell it to u after i’m done following this totally not a beggar dude!

Later:

Ghosts: ur back! Do u have a plan?

Wen kexing (holding back tears): A-xu broke up with me! So i’m gonna burn it all down!

Ghosts: …but u have a plan right?

Wen kexing: sure!

Later later:

Ghosts: the five sect alliance literally burned down one of out bases and took the tragicomic ghost prisoner! What do we do???

Wen kexing (drunk out of his mind): A-Xu is dying!!!! 😭😭😭

Ghosts: really??? Really? See this is why the impertinence ghost is plotting against you.

[lost-in-men-of-letters-bunker]

He's just like me for real.

Percy “I am impertinent” Jackson really looked Zeus dead in the eye and said “Your family is a mess”

[diamondsunbursts-and-marblehalls]

Honestly, I think from the moment that Percy found out that not every demigod has a loving mortal parent they can depend on, when they already can't depend on the gods, and that Annabeth specifically, hasn't had anyone take care of her like that since she was 7, he decided he would be the one to.

They take care of each other up to that point, but I think that's when he starts noticing how much she takes care of them. She already knew if she didn't no one else will. She protects them against humans, she stands with them against monsters, she always brings up the rear of the group when they're running, and she is always the first one to make a move when they're fighting. She does it because no one is going to protect her if she doesn't do it herself. No one is going to protect Grover and Percy if she isn't.

In the arch, he pretty much tells her he would fight the gods for her, and then he goes on to do just that.

Athena, the one person who was supposed to protect her willingly pushes monsters her way, she lets Echidna and the chimera into a place that was supposed to be safe. Her decision is that Annabeth should be punished, and say what you want, but I think she knew that Annabeth would think through every scenario and know that someone had to stay and hold them back. And I think she knew that Annabeth would be the one to stay. Because that's the way she raised her, knowing that no one cared whether she lived or died. And I think that's the cruellest part.

Which is why Percy's sacrifice means so much more. He not only made the decision to trade his life for hers and fight the monster so she and Grover could escape, but he also made the conscious choice to push back against Athena's wishes. He fought a goddess for her, Athena said "Annabeth will die for her impertinence" and Percy said "Not today, not ever"

[fushiguho]

*ೃ༄ Santa's Coming, Literally!

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Synop. Ho! Ho! Ho! Santa Claus is coming to a local shopping mall near you! Buttt, there’s one thing… is it okay that he’s just your shitty ex-boyfriend in a cheap red suit? He said he’s sorry! :(

Warnings fem!reader, unprotected, semi-public sex, toji fushiguro in a santa costume, ex-lovers, toji has a filthy mouth (duh), breeding, makeup sex, toji’s redemption arc

WC 2k

A/N i had a thought so i opened my notes app. now here we are and i’m scared of what i've written..

“Hi, Santa.” You’re grinning ear to ear as you ecstatically approach the podium upon which the large man sits, his characteristically strapping thighs deliciously sprawled and awaiting in the middle of a large, barren shopping center.

The impersonator hums, quirking a thick, omniscient brow. “Aren’t you a little too old to be sittin’ on Santa’s lap, little girl?” Grumbles the burly stranger that is somehow meant to be Santa Claus. You observe the short tufts of sable hair that peek from below his soft crimson hat, black stubble peppering the skin beneath his detachable beard. They must be on a tight budget, you think.

Your eyes narrow. “Aren’t you supposed to be… I don’t know, jolly?” It’s hardly a joke as you observe the man closer. “Like isn’t that your entire shtick?” You’re seated oh so prettily atop his lap, yet the smile you once wore fades into a pout of utter disbelief, an all too wonted feeling crashing down. Your nose wriggles at the familiar redolence of a cheap, aromatic cologne. Only one man would wear such a maddeningly nauseating scent. “Wha— Toji? God, is that you?”

The faux-bearded man sucks his teeth, eyes rolling in tandem. An inquisitive hand is sneaking up to snatch his limp, crimson hat, and lo and behold, there sits your penniless ex-boyfriend, a crooked, unabashed grin marring those lips you’ve missed so dearly. He expels an exasperated sigh, annoyed that you found him out. “Yeah.” He admits almost defeatedly.

“… why?”

He shrugs. “Dunno, easy money.” His timbre voice cuts, large hips mindlessly adjusting beneath you. “Well? Whadaya want for Christmas then, damnit?”

A hand of disbelief is creeping up to cover your gaped mouth, pretty eyes wide and critical as you swallow the urge to laugh right in his irritatingly perfect face. You can hardly help the small giggle that tumbles past your fingers. “For you to get a real job, god. How did you even come about this? You hate kids.”

A deep, familiar sigh drags from his beautifully scarred lips. “If you’re just gonna sit on my lap to berate me, I’d appreciate a hefty tip at least.” You follow his descending gaze to observe the sad tip jar bedside him. Inside lies a singular, crumpled dollar bill alongside three, pathetic pennies.

“I mean, that hardly bothered you much before and I didn’t even have to pay you then.” You quip, head cocking to the right as you arch a challenging brow.

“Well, that was before you dumped me.”

“Well,” you mock, shoving an accusatory finger into his chest, “you were a shit boyfriend. You deserved it.”

He nods quietly, sucking his teeth. “Said I was sorry, doll.”

“And I said apology not accepted. Do not call me that either.”

“Why, doll? Hardly bothered you much before, heh.” He derides, that same, shit-eating grin lazily spreading across his lips, his intent to piss you off working seamlessly. 

“We’re done here.” You grouse, reaching back to push yourself off of his lap, yet two greedy hands are grabbing hold of your hips, impertinently pulling you back. “Toji.” It’s merely a growl, a warning.

“Oh, c’monnn don’t be like that.” He whines, situating you comfortably onto his lap, his bulging arms wrapping possessively around your waist. “I’m just fucking with you, okay? Dunno why you’re actin’ like you don’t miss me though.” You hear the grin that parts his lips. “I just know you do.”

You’re staring off, back turned as your arms cross over your chest. “I promise you I don’t.”

“Liar.” It’s barely a whisper against the shell of your ear, his breath warm, inciting.

And just like that, you’re falling back into his trap once again, yet this time, he’s dressed as Santa Claus. It’s precisely how you ended up here — achy, trembling thighs spread wide as Toji repeatedly drops you onto his fat, leaking cock. With his back flush against the soft, creaky couch of the employee break room, two burly hands are heavy on the fat of your ass, brazenly spreading you apart as he mindlessly fucks himself inside of your drooling cunt.

God and it’s rather obscene — the repetitive batter of his swollen balls against the gleaming slit of your ass, your poor, leaking pussy effortlessly swallowing the entirety of his cock as if no time has passed at all. Premature arousal spills against your bruised cervix with every kiss of his swollen cockhead. Over and over and over again, he bullies himself deeper and deeper, fucking to the very back of your pretty cunt like a madman on the brink of utter insanity.

Thrust after thrust is forcing the white, fluffy trim of his hat to droop over his eyes, partially occluding his vision. The spineless tip of the red coned cap flops to the left, the white pom-pom at the very end bouncing with each bruising buck of his hips. He groans, burly chest whorishly exposed. The buttons to his plush, velvet coat undone while the white shirt he wears beneath is shoved above his pectorals.

“Goddd,” he gapes, “how could you deprive me of this? Of her? Been missin’ this perfect pussy… think about her all the f— fucking time.” Deliriously, his head is dropping to the side, maw falling slack as his darkened eyes catch yours. “You miss me, baby huh? Miss the way I take care of this sloppy little pussy? And don’t you lie to me, it hurts my heart you know.” He pouts.

Stubbornly, you shake your head in refutation, a contradicting whimper dragging from your parted lips. Your sweater is haphazardly hiked above your chest, perfect tits spilling out the confines of your bra. A glistening sheen of syrupy saliva coats your chest — you’re drooling. It’s utterly embarrassing the way your body is so plainly working against you; your head shaking no, yet the way your arousal slobbers down the length of his cock, his sweet name on the tip of your tongue says otherwise.

He scoffs. “You sure?” Several curious fingers are dragging across your chest, collecting the adorning saliva. “Sweetheart, you’re drooooling.” He coos teasingly, those same fingers dipping into that slutty mouth of his, tasting you.

That voice you’ve missed so dearly has your pussy sucking him in deeper, harder. Warm arousal spilling down the entire length of his cock, pooling near the fat of his balls. “Oh my god, you’re s… so nasty, Toji.”

“Meee?” He gapes incredulously, humor dripping from his tone. “Is it not you that’s fucking Santa Claus in the break room of a shopping mall, sweetheart?”

“Stop, s— stop, don’t call me that!” Both of your hands reach to cover his mouth, fruitlessly attempting to shut him up.

He frowns, pouting against the palm of your hand. “Really?” He muffles, a big hand separates your fingers so that he can speak properly. “I can’t even call you sweetheart now? Not even as fuck you on my cock like this, huh?”

Toji fucks breath after helpless breath out of you; your mouth stupidly gaped as synchronous huffs of air drag from both of your slacked jaws. Every buck of his hips jerking you closer and closer, your parted lips a hair’s breadth away. You can taste his warm, erratic breaths on your tongue, your pants bleeding into one, harmonious rhythm.

“Will you let me kiss you at least?” He all but pleads, chasing your fleeting lips. “Please?”

You can’t help the sigh the drags from your lips, eyes rolling dramatically, yet still, you’re dropping your head to catch his lips in a desperate and haphazard kiss. He tastes the same, like a bitter honey you could never forget. He even kisses the same, still rough and breathless and intentional and sloppy. As if you’re his last, fleeting breath and merely pulling away is a wish of death.

Toji swallows all of your pretty wails of pleasure, tonguing his own, pretty boy moans into your mouth in tandem. He pants breathlessly against your lips between his sloppy kisses. Low, wanton grunts pour from his raptured tongue, willfully spilling against yours. You possess half the brain to notice the heavy digit that’s thumbing your aching clit. You’re reaching a desperate hand between your legs in a fruitless attempt to bat him away.

With a disapproving shake of his head, he’s pushing your hand away. “If you cum like I know you’re about to — fuuuuck, you owe me.” He mutters, a steady hand jerking you further onto his cock. “You hear me? You owe me an apology for lying and a proper I miss you.”

Frantically, you shake your head. “Mmm’not gon… gonna cum for y-you.” You lie, stomach caving in your crescendoing arousal.

“Don’t lie, I know you want to, sweet girl. I can feel it.” His thumb glides over your clit again and again and again, a helpless slew of drunken whimpers tumbling past your gaped mouth. “C’monnnn pretty, cum all over my cock like you used to… make a mess on it, c’mon.”

His lips curl into a gut wrenching snarl as your brows knit, your pretty eyes threatening to roll toward the back of your head. That poor, swollen clit twitches beneath the pad of his finger, wordlessly warning him of your impending orgasm. Your sloppy cunt tightens around the fat cock that impales you, but it’s the thumb that’s parting your lips, sinking inside of your warm, obedient mouth that has you pathetically tumbling over the edge.

“God, I’m s… sorry,” you gasp desperately, sucking down on his thumb as your hips buck to meet his heavy thrusts, “I’m so sorry, baby. I missed youuu… missed your cock… missed the way you make me feel, m’sorryyy.” But it’s completely incoherent, your pretty, quivering speech drunken and slurred.

He laughs. It’s a dark, breathy chuckle and it’s parting his lips in an inebriated smile, teeth bared. “Yeaaah? You sorry, baby?” The subtle lilt of enthusiasm that adorns his tone makes your head spin.

Dumbly you nod, humming sweetly, bottom lip trapped between your teeth. Warm arousal seeps from your cunt, pooling in a rich, creamy layer at the base of his cock. The fat of his balls achingly swollen and gleaming, begging for release. Sticky gossamers of ungodly arousal tether you as one, stretching and snapping between the heat of your sexes.

“If you really miss me,” he pants, his wet lips creeping along your throat, “you’ll let me cum in that pretty pussy like old times, hm?”

“Toji.” You warn.

“Please? Be a good girl for Santa, come on,” his lips are on yours again, two large hands reaching for the sides of your face, dragging you closer, “please?” It’s muttered into your mouth and you swallow his prayer. “Pleasepleaseplease?” Another sloppy kiss to the shell of your ear. “For Santa?”

What’s left of your dwindling resolve is dripping from your sweet tongue in a beautiful, helpless whine. Again, you’re caving with barely any give. Your frantic nod of approval makes his cock twitch. It jerks against the walls of your tensing cunt, warning you. His sounds are whorish and guttural, groan after willful groan spilling past his lips, heavy hips steady and unrelenting beneath you while he tugs you down, down, down.

He’s a sight for the sorest of eyes. It’s the slow, delirious loll of his head as it cranes backward, dangling beyond the rear of the couch, red hat falling to the floor. That strong jaw fully pried, dark brows screwed together. Even the stutter of his hips beneath you, jerking haphazardly as he unapologetically stuffs you full. Thick, creamy rivulets of cum spill inside of you, the cadence of his thrusts forcing the amalgamation of arousal all over his velvety crimson pants, staining them.

“God, I’ve missed you.” He all but moans, desperately yanking you closer, slotting his lips against yours in a deep, drunken kiss. “Can I take you out?” It’s a breath between woozy kisses, curious hands trailing up the expanse of your exposed back. “I know you hate me, but I’ve changed, I am changing… for you”

You sigh. “I don't hate you, but you do have a lot of shit to work on.”

“Help me then.” It’s quiet, genuine. His dark eyes softening.

“Take me out tonight. We’ll talk about it.”

He smiles, heart swelling. “Okay.”

@fushiguho

[pathologicalreid]

diphenhydramine | s.r.

in which reader has a hard time getting to sleep at night, leading to Spencer's step by step instruction of which hormones help you fall asleep

margotober masterlist

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: smut (18+ mdni) content warnings: unprotected p in v sex, fingering, spencer infodumps while fingering you, restlessness, ambien, sex as a sleep aid, effective but not recommended, physiology, female masturbation, insecurity, reader doesn't pee after sex which you really should do, no clean up, but fanfiction isn't real. softdom!spencer. not thoroughly proofread. word count: 1.99k a/n: i thought i had this scheduled so imagine my surprise when i went to check tumblr and it wasn't posted. ANYWAYS. this one goes out to all the girlies with chronic sleep issues (me) and the person who requested this. don't like, don't read.

Your pillow was warm. Surely that was what was hindering your ability to sleep. Lifting your head, you flip your pillow over, resting your head on the cool side and turning to your other side.

Facing Spencer, you pull your arm out from under the covers, wondering if you should only change one variable at a time to see what actually helps you get to sleep. Huffing, you shut your eyes again, the usually muted traffic outside of your apartment seeming extraneously loud for this time of night.

You couldn’t put a name to it, but there was something keeping you up at night. You’d always had sleep issues, but your restlessness from the last several weeks was unprecedented.

“Angel,” your boyfriend says from next to you, reaching his hand out and placing it on your waist, trying to drag you across the sheets and into his arms.

Willingly, you move to his side of the bed, leaving space between the two of you to keep your body cool—maybe you were just too warm to sleep. “Did I wake you?” You ask, peering up at him through your eyelashes. He looks so ethereal in the diffused moonlight that seeps in through the closed curtains, the cool light falling over the harsh edges of his face.

He hums in response, opening his eyes and casually slipping a hand under your sleep shirt, resting his palm on your bare waist, “No,” he murmurs, even though you know he’s lying through his teeth. “What’s wrong?”

“Can’t sleep,” you tell him miserably, sticking out your lower lip even though he likely can’t see your face—his eyes would need to adjust to the darkness.

He shifts under the covers, gently skimming the pad of his thumb over your ribcage, “Have you tried Ambien?”

Your primary care physician prescribed sleeping pills for you, but you didn’t have any interest in taking them. “So I can end up at the Lincoln Memorial with my underwear on my head? No, thanks.”

“I would be very impressed if you managed to sleepwalk all the way to the National Mall,” he muttered, his voice clearing as he became more alert.

You sigh in exhaustion, “I’m multifaceted.”

Spencer kisses your forehead, “Go to sleep, multifaceted.”

“I can’t,” you complain, watching him through your eyelashes, “I’m open to suggestions.”

Your boyfriend groans at your impertinence, “You could try taking the pills that your doctor prescribed to you.”

Rolling your eyes in the dark, you tuck some stray hairs behind your ear, “Nope. Any other ideas in that big brain of yours?”

“Has anyone ever told you that you get kind of snippy when you get tired?” Spencer asks rhetorically.

Frowning in defeat, you consider going out to the living room to watch something on the TV. At least that way you would be able to let Spencer get some sleep. “Are you telling me that there’s nothing you’ve read recently that has any kind of information on remedies for restlessness?”

Next to you, Spencer stiffens, and you wonder if he’s cold. You turned on the ceiling fan in an attempt to cool down, “There are always new articles on sleep remedies, but none you’d be interested in.”

Your eyes flicker to the alarm clock on his bedside table, just past three in the morning, “I’m open to anything.”

“Orgasms produce some of the same hormones that are conducive to falling asleep,” he whispers, his ministrations on your waist coming to a halt.

Sighing, you flop onto your back, “I already tried that.”

He’s silent for a moment, “Were you touching yourself while I was in bed next to you?” There was a new lilt in his voice, some sort of shift as the type of frustration he was feeling changed.

Considering your options, you cross your arms in front of your stomach, staring up at the spinning blades of the ceiling fan, “Yeah, but I didn’t— I couldn’t—”

“You couldn’t make yourself come?” He finishes for you, the words that you couldn’t get out slipping easily past his lips.

It shouldn’t embarrass you, but you find your face warming under the cover of night anyways. “No,” your answer comes out as barely more than an exhale, “I couldn’t quite get there.”

With his hand now resting on your abdomen, your attention laser focusing on the way his pinky finger skimmed the elastic band of your panties, “Do you want me to try?”

Honestly, it wouldn’t be much of an attempt, like every other aspect of his life, pleasing you is something Spencer excels at. “I want you to go to sleep. I’m sorry for waking you,” you decline his offer.

He doesn’t move his hand, “Are you sure? I’m offering, if you’re accepting.”

“I-“ you falter, “I guess it doesn’t hurt to try, but only if you want to.” You were perfectly fine with going to the couch and wasting the night away in front of the TV screen. You’ve clocked a lot of time with the early morning newscast recently.

Spencer twists his wrist in response, looking at you in the cool light of the room, “I’m always interested in pleasing you.” He speaks to you quietly, retaining the reverent tones of the morning while slipping his hand deeper into your underwear. His index finger slipping easily through your folds, “Oh, you got close,” he whispers.

There’s no resistance as his finger breaches your entrance, already deeper than your fingers had gotten. Your mouth falls open, a small, choked gasp escaping your throat as your hand instinctively grabs at Spencer’s wrist, “Yeah.”

His motions are slow and precise, making sure you can feel every slight movement as he withdraws his finger before sliding it back into your pussy. Adding a second finger before his other hand pulls down at your underwear, haphazardly leaving them around your thighs before finding a rhythm. The peace of the night pauses only for the crude sounds from you, muffled by the blanket strewn over your bodies.

Gently, Spencer presses the pad of his thumb to your clit, maintaining the thrusts of his hand as he slowly encircles the sensitive nub, “Spence.” Your voice is a breathy laugh in recognition of just how quickly he can get you there.

There was something about having someone else touch you. When you do it yourself, you can hold yourself back or overthink it, but with Spencer’s hands on you—or in you, rather—there was nothing to hold back. “Sex can help you sleep for the simple reason that it’s physical activity, but it’s when you cum that your body releases hormones that can actually help you sleep,” his ministrations don’t suffer as a result of his physiology lesson. If anything, it all becomes more intense.

A sharp, high-pitched noise comes out of your mouth, the all too familiar knot in your lower belly coiling. And coiling. And coiling. “So, you can—” your voice cuts out as you gasp, “You can literally fuck me to sleep?”

Spencer hums a confirmation, “Sex reduces cortisol levels, and your body’s going to release oxytocin and prolactin,” he assures you, “and those will induce pleasant and relaxing feelings. All of which means I get to fuck you to sleep tonight.”

“’m close,” you breathe, closing your eyes as the pressure in your core nears unbearable levels. “Oh, Spence,” you say, your grip tightening on his wrist as his hands don’t let up on you.

His unoccupied hand reaches up to your face, gently sweeping hair off of your forehead in a way that makes you dizzy, his head falling to your shoulder before he kisses the worn fabric of your t-shirt, “You can cum, baby. It’s okay.”

He doesn’t want you to hold it in, so you don’t. Your head tips back into the pillows as the coil in your belly snaps, going off like a slingshot—sharp and quick.

Spencer’s fingers keep working you through your orgasm, slowing at the same pace that your orgasm does, the sheets sticking to your back as you slowly unarch, coming back to the surface as the pleasure of your orgasm drifts away almost as quickly as it came.

Every part of your body trembles as you fall away from your high, hooded eyelids staring over at your boyfriend as you catch your breath. Timidly, you reach down and push your underwear down your legs, kicking them off into the abyss of sheets to be discovered at a later date as you turn on your side.

“You’re so pretty,” he whispers, shifting under the covers as he pulls his cock out of his boxer briefs.

You hum, scooting yourself closer to him on the mattress, heat emanating from his body in a way that you now find welcoming, “You can’t even see me.”

Grabbing your thigh, Spencer slings your leg over his waist, opening your body to him, “Not right now,” he admits, “But I know you. I know the way you look right now, while I’m slipping myself into you.” His voice is low, but your attentions are focused on the feeling of his tip at your pussy, slowly pushing into you. He lets your body adjust, this isn’t an angle he usually takes you at, but you can feel every single ridge as he moves.

“I know the glossy look your eyes have right now,” he mutters, pushing your lower back closer to him, leaving his cock impossibly deep in you. “A combination of the orgasm that you just had and the sensations you’re feeling right now.”

You shudder at his words, tentatively rolling your hips against him, silently signaling to him that you’re ready for him to move. A soft cry escapes your lips as he withdraws his hips, pushing himself back into you while your cunt throbs around his length, “Spence.”

He grunts in response, finding a steady, gentle rhythm as your mind goes blank. You find yourself searching for that high again, “You feel so good, angel. So, so good.” His voice is low as he pulls your body closer to him still, “Fuck.”

“Spence,” your voice cracks at stimulation, overwhelming you as he breathes into the crook of your neck. You dig your nails into his back, trying to keep yourself from screaming as his hand slips between your conjoined bodies, swiping softly at your clit.

Spencer keeps moving, fucking into you as his movements grow messier and messier with each passing thrust. “You’re so pretty,” he repeats, seeing your features in the soft moonlight as your mouth gapes and your second orgasm quickly approaches.

Whimpering, you bite down on your lower lip, your leg that’s slung over him shaking uncontrollably as you chase your orgasm, “Oh my god,” you gasp helplessly.

“So good for me. Let it go, I’m close too,” he says, continuing his motions even as your pussy clenches around his length, the waves of your orgasm pulsating around him, sending him hurtling toward his own.

Stars dance in front of your eyes, and you let them fall shut. His movements come to a stop and you loose a sigh of relief at the realization that you’re exhausted. “Don’t go,” you mumble.

Spencer presses a soft kiss to your lips, holding you close to him with one arm while readjusting his underwear with the other. “I won’t,” he whispers, “You need to call your doctor about wanting new sleeping pills.”

You grunt in response, too close to sleep to form a coherent response.

“I’m not opposed to a more natural remedy, but I’m not always around at night, and I need to know you’re sleeping at night,” he tells you, his voice growing softer as sleep threatens to take him.

Humming, you nuzzle closer to him, letting your body melt into the mattress as you finally fall asleep. Staying cold was no longer a concern, staying close to Spencer was.