#but need to rein it in because I'm at work | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ms-demeanor · 9 months ago

Note

You posted about adhd and I was hoping to follow up to clarify something. I’ve explained to my partner a million times about how the borderline-hoarding mess of his space is very mentally draining to me, and he understands but we’ve both essentially accepted he won’t clean his mess because he can’t because of his adhd. You’re saying he’s actually being a shit head?

This isn't necessarily an issue of him being a shithead, but it also isn't a sustainable situation. It's not good for you and there's a level of clutter that's probably not good for him either.

Large bastard is a lot more clutter-y than I am. The solution we've come to is trying to keep our messes at least isolated from one another; he can have his messes and I can have mine, but he can have those messes in his spaces, not all over the place. Sometimes those messes migrate, and that's when it's important for him to make the effort to rein them in rather than trying and failing to make a daily effort to keep our entire shared space tidy.

I think when you say "we've both essentially accepted he won't clean his mess" what I'm hearing is resignation; you're not happy about this but you don't know what to do so you've thrown up your hands and he feels helpless and unsure of what to do to improve the situation. This is the kind of "it's fine" that isn't really fine.

I think it would be worthwhile for you to each separately think about the mess and talk about it together. Are there areas that YOU *need* to have not-messy? Both for utility and your mental health? Are there areas where you can tolerate more mess than otherwise? Are there areas that are going to be harder for him to keep the mess out of than others? Are there things he doesn't *know* about cleaning up the mess?

I'm obviously a big "communication communication communication" person so I'm going to recommend a lot of talking about stuff, which is probably going to mean a lot of thinking about and interrogating stuff. I'm going to say "talk to him about why the mess bothers you" which means you also have to really articulate to yourself why the mess bothers you (for instance I'm not actually *bothered* by a messy kitchen, but I know it's going to reflect badly on us - and me specifically b/c of presumed gender roles - if someone pops by and the kitchen is a disaster, AND a messy kitchen is going to be harder to use). Genuinely, sometimes knowing *why* something is a problem might make it easier for someone with ADHD to do something. And it's not that he doesn't care that it upsets you, it's just that "Oh if I don't wash my breakfast dishes Anon won't have clear counterspace to make lunch" might be stickier in his brain (and less hard to look at emotionally) than "this thing I forget to do upsets my partner so I should do it."

For the record, I think that people with ADHD should read up on Demand Avoidance and see if it might explain some of the issues that they have in their day-to-day life; I've seen some really unfortunate situations with friends where trying to do things that their partner needed became the subject of demand avoidance. *I* have experienced negative outcomes of demand avoidance. The solution to that, however, isn't to stop making attempts to do the thing OR to simply try harder to do as they're asked/told (which reinforces the demand), it's to work on setting up a situation where the partners' needs are not interpreted as a demand. This is fuck-off difficult and requires a lot of patience and care and many attempts to succeed and will be different for each person and relationship.

(Also for the record demand avoidance isn't *super* strongly linked to ADHD and it's not a definitive symptom; like Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria, it is something that occurs in some number of people with ADHD and can be a useful lens through which to examine various behaviors; you don't need to have DA or RSD to have ADHD, and having DA or RSD also doesn't invalidate your diagnosis; they're symptoms. For me, DA often feels like "if I don't look at it, it can't get me" - If I ignore all the messages I've got they aren't real and don't have real consequences so I'll just ignore my texts. If I don't look at the vendor email about the order, the problem with the order isn't real and it won't get added to my task list. If I don't look at the requests in my inbox I can't let people down when I don't do them. It's a self-protective coping mechanism but it's *maladaptive* and I can't just ignore the vendor email or all my texts. I need to work on a way of doing the stuff that I'm avoiding in a way that makes it less stressful and doesn't hurt the people relying on me. That takes a lot of effort, personal insight, trial and error, and )

But before I dive into specifics I want to be really really clear about one thing: sometimes people are simply incompatible. Sometimes one person has such a low tolerance for "mess" and the other person has such a high threshold for "mess" that it can't be reconciled. It sucks that this can end up being a thing that people break up over, but it is MUCH better to acknowledge incompatibility as early as possible instead of spending years and years building resentment.

There used to be a great forum called MiL's Anonymous that I spent a lot of time on. It had a lot of people in a lot of difficult situations struggling to get by and hold their relationships together. The question that was used as a litmus test to approach each situation was simple: If you knew today that everything about living with this person would be the same in five years, would you stay?

Because you can't control your partner. You can't control the future. You can only control yourself and your proximity to situations that are harmful to you. If you knew, 100%, that things wouldn't get better in five years, would you be okay with staying in this relationship? If the answer is "no," then that's that. Don't worry about questions of whether or not your boyfriend is a shithead, start the process of ending the relationship because there's a good chance the situation is going to be exactly the same in five years.

If the answer is "yes," and you'd stay in the relationship regardless of whether or not things changed, then it's time to take actions to improve your life within the context of the relationship.

(No judgement on that yes or no, btw. If you would hate living like this for another five years, and you would feel like you'd wasted your time and hadn't done the things you wanted to with your life, get out. Bail. Go. It will be better for you and better for your partner if you split instead of spending half a decade building resentments and and problems that you'll have to spend another half a decade healing from.)

Also, a note: you describe your boyfriend's mess as borderline hoarding - is the issue *mess* or is the issue *clutter*? I have friends who are very tidy, but whose homes are very cluttered. They like things, they have many things, they keep many things around, but their houses are always clean and well-dusted and orderly, just with a tremendous amount of *stuff.* I am addressing all of this as though the issue is mess, not clutter. If your boyfriend's situation is clutter (the space is busy and packed with things but it is functional and clean) and your issue isn't with *mess* (things out of place, things not having a place, things that need to be cleaned up gathering in stacks, falling behind on regular chores like laundry and dishes and taking out the trash) then you definitely need to assess whether or not you are compatible.

For instance here's a room that is messy but not cluttered compared to a room that is cluttered but not messy:

That first room is a *mess* but it would be very easy to clean up in under an hour. The second room is fairly tidy, but would take significant effort to pare down and declutter. BOTH of these can be difficult to live with but the second one is not dangerous or threatening to anyone's health. (The second one is QUITE cluttered and if every room in a house looks like this it can be overwhelming to live with; this is actually harder to deal with in a relationship than the first one in a lot of ways. I don't have a lot of advice for what to do if your partner is a high degree of tidy-but-cluttered because I don't actually think it's a problem or wrong to have thousands of books or bins full of lego or a million kitchen appliances as long as you have the space and can keep it safe and well-maintained; this is a really significant compatibility issue)

Okay, all that out of the way, here's the hard work.

Talk about this shit

Talk to your partner and define "mess." Make sure you are on the same page about what you mean when you're talking about what a messy room looks like versus what a tidy room looks like. Gather reference pictures. DRAW reference pictures.

Explain not just that the mess upsets you, but *why* and *how* it upsets you. In this context don't think of it as your boyfriend's mess, think of it as an unpleasant roommate. Discuss this using "I-statements". "When I have to pick up laundry all over the apartment, I feel like a parent more than a partner." "When there are piles of miniatures all over the table, I feel like I don't have anywhere to do things I'm interested in." "When there are dishes in the sink, I feel frustrated because I have to clean before I can feed myself."

Discuss, frankly and openly, whether he knows how to clean. I'm not trying to make excuses for him here but a lot of people with ADHD have a lot of stress and avoidance around cleaning because they spent a lot of time getting yelled at for not knowing how to clean properly.

Discuss your needs, be firm about what you require but willing to compromise. You *need* some spaces to be clean, and some spaces may be harder for him to keep clean than others. It may be MUCH harder for him to keep a bedroom tidy than it is to keep a kitchen tidy; if you need a clean and empty bedroom with everything put away and he simply cannot do that, that is a compatibility issue. But perhaps you need *your* side of the bedroom to be very orderly and can tolerate a moderate level of mess and clutter on his side. Maybe you're really really bothered by a messy kitchen, but it doesn't bug you if the dining table is covered with projects and papers. Figure out something more workable than "his mess goes everywhere and i live with it because he's incapable of cleaning" because he probably is not incapable of cleaning and you deserve to have places in your home that are comfortable for you.

Reduce friction for cleaning

Sometimes the problem isn't cleaning, the problem is the many many steps before cleaning, or not knowing where something should go when you are done cleaning. One of the absolute best things I've done for myself for cleaning my space is getting a broom holder and mounting the broom to the wall. Sweeping is now essentially thoughtless. I don't have to find the broom or pull it out from a pile of fans or go scrounging around for a dustpan it's right there on the wall, frictionless. So here are some ways to reduce the barriers to cleaning:

Make sure you and your partner both know how to use your cleaning supplies and know where those supplies are. When I switched dishwasher soap I had to re-show Large Bastard where I was storing it and how it was used, because to him what happened was the dishwasher tabs just vanished one day and he didn't know what I was putting in the machine or the process I used. He sometimes puts tools away in places that I can't see (he's more than a foot taller than me) so sometimes I can't get started on a maintenance project until he shows me where he put the battery pack for the drill.

Consider making a how-to chart to or having him make a how-to chart to keep someplace accessible so he can reference it while cleaning. Goblin.Tools Magic ToDo is great for this. Basically a lot of the time people with ADHD have trouble knowing what to do from step to step even if they've done something before, so having a step by step guide can make it easier (I have notebooks full of step-by-step guides for everything from paying for my tuition to removing licenses for my customers to weeding my yard)

Remove obstacles; don't keep cleaning chemicals in the garage in a box that's behind a stack of parts, keep them in the room you'll be cleaning. Don't keep the cleaning supplies that you use to clean the bathroom in the kitchen. Sometimes this means buying two bottles of bleach solution and two scrubbers and two sets of cleaning gloves but having fewer steps (fetch the windex, fetch the paper towels, fetch the gloves) is often the key to getting things done (open under-sink cabinet and grab windex, gloves, and paper towels that are there instead of in the kitchen).

This sort of overlaps with the next category, which is:

Create Dump Zones

One thing that I've found that seems very different between people with ADHD cleaning and neurotypical people cleaning is that neurotypical people are good at getting to a point where the cleaning is "done." They have checked off their tasks and they have finished and it is over. There are *SOME* chores that are like this (taking out the trash is a binary state, the trash has been taken out or it has not) and some chores are perpetual (horrid cursed dishes) but I think with people with ADHD, some chores that are binary for neurotypicals are actually perpetual chores. For instance "clean off the counter" is not a one and done for me. "Clean off the counter" may involve a three day reorganization project. "Clean off the counter" does not mean "wipe down the tile and put dishes away" it means assessing whether or not I need to make vegetable stock and bleaching three tea containers and reconsidering whether or not the sharps container should live somewhere else and going through the mail and figuring out what needs to be responded to and taking out the recycling and on and on and on.

We have had company at the house for the last two weeks, so I asked large bastard to clean off the dining room table, which is largely a project zone for him. Cleaning off the dining room table meant putting away his meds (and since he's a transplant patient that involves a 30 gallon rubbermade tote), throwing away some trash, and totally reorganizing his workshop. It also incidentally involved picking up a table from facebook marketplace and moving my plants, which has now involved moving my former plant rack outside (moving buckets, finding and organizing planters and gardening tools) and taking the former table to the thrift store (not done yet) and cleaning the rug that was under the former table. So "either the table is clean, or it isn't" isn't really true for us.

HOWEVER "hang on we can't eat until the table is clear so let's drive to Pico Rivera to get that console table right now" isn't a workable plan, so you create dumpzones as areas of holding between the start and the finish of the chore.

A dump zone can be a laundry basket. It can be a craft bin. It can be a back room or under your bed. It is a place to put things that you are going to deal with later because if you deal with them now it is going to derail the thing you are actually trying to do, which is set the table for dinner.

Dump zones are vital to cleaning with ADHD and I recommend them for day-to-day cleaning as well. The day-to-day dump zones might be more for you than for your boyfriend. For instance, Large Bastard works with bullets and he sheds bullets all over the house. I used to get stressed when I found bullets when I was cleaning because are these work bullets? Are these recreational bullets? Are they in testing? Do they need to be pulled? Do they go in the workshop or the office or the garage or does he need these today so they have to stay on the counter? And the answer now is "that's not my problem naughty bullets go in the jar." Which is perfectly sensible because he gets to say "mystery yarn goes in the bin" and "art supplies go in the bucket."

I feel helpless when cleaning a lot of the time. I'm frustrated and lost and I don't know where stuff goes and everything I pick up spins off into three projects in my head and every step feels like a wall to scale. Dump zones help me with that when there's pressure or a reason for cleaning beyond day to day home maintenance. People are coming over? The bedroom is a dump zone, I'll deal with that later. I'm just cleaning up because I need to? Okay I can find a permanent home for this new dish soap.

AS A VERY IMPORTANT COROLLARY TO THIS:

Active projects do not go in dump zones while you or your partner are cleaning. This may mean designating a project sanctuary area like a corner of the table or one particular chair in your main room where a project can be placed so as not to be disturbed. (if my current crochet project ends up in the yarn bin, that may mean that I don't pick the project up for another three months, it lives on the windowsill behind the couch because that's where it'll get worked on)

Do not put things away for your partner, put them in the dump zone for your partner. Your partner has to be the one to put their own stuff away in a way that works for them. I tend to find that this naturally puts a limit on the time stuff sits in the dump zone, because eventually you'll go "hey where's my thing?" and will put stuff away. If that doesn't happen, it's still generally better to have stuff in a dump zone than all over the home.

Do not decide you know what things go together from your partner's stuff and try to "put like things together." The neurotypical urge to put like things together is the mindkiller(j/k). You do not know which things are "similar" in your partner's organization schema and attempting to organize things on your own is going to end up with all of the things "organized" being functionally lost forever from your partner's perspective. Large Bastard's mom would do this and it was infuriating, she'd say "oh I put all the electronics stuff in one box" and she would mean soldering irons, transistors, ham radios, HDMI cables, and cellphone chargers. We are *still* going through boxes of stuff that she "tidied up" when he was hospitalized in 2020 and 2021.

To prevent the need for quite so many dump zones over time, you can work on setting up landing zones and "homes" for projects and tools.

Landing Zones

Landing zones are places where things go when you come inside from doing various things. Sometimes your landing zone only needs to be a tray for your wallet and keys, sometimes your landing zone needs to be a place to take off muddy boots and put a trowel and gloves down before you shower.

To make an effective landing zone, consider what behaviors you're trying to minimize and whether the people using it are ACTUALLY going to use it. For instance I was tired of the corner of my hearth getting cluttered with random junk so I hung up some hooks and put a shelf and a basket there and it became a really effective landing zone for my bag and keys and the mail, but it was VERY ineffective for Large Bastard because it's by a door that isn't the primary door he uses to enter the house. As a result I always know where my keys and bag are but he has trouble finding his keys and wallet. He tends to enter the house through our bedroom and has an overloaded valet next to the door and that's usually where his wallet ends up. Mounting a shelf to the wall above the valet and putting a basket and a hook on it will be a better place for his stuff to land. It's not that he's not using the first zone because he doesn't know that it's there, or because he doesn't care about lost time when I'm searching for my car keys after he borrows them, he's not using it because it's not by the door he uses. That's all.

I have a landing space for when I come in for gardening that's different than the one when I come in from grocery shopping. I have a landing space for when I walk into the dining room instead of the kitchen when I get home.

Landing spaces prevent stuff from piling up all over the place because they are a limited functional space that should be used frequently. Mail ONLY goes in the landing zone. If you have mystery mail or if you're not sure it's safe to toss, you put it in the landing zone. You can't let the mail get piled up too high or you won't have a space for your keys. You can't let the change in your wallet tray get too deep or your wallet is going to slide off, etc., but you also don't just put change on the coffee table or your nightstand because the landing zone is right there.

Homes for items are just what they sound like. They're the place the item goes. It lives there. My meds live on my nightstand. You would not believe how poorly I did with taking my meds on my vacation because they weren't on my nightstand. A while back large bastard lost one of his sets of sorted meds and we tore the house up looking for them because he couldn't find them in his nightstand, which is where they live. *I* found them in his nightstand because I emptied out the entire top drawer (he had only looked on the top layer) and found them underneath a radio and a hammock. Even though they were *hidden* they were in their home, so they were findable. I recently needed ink for an art class. Art supplies live in a dresser by my desk. Ink lives in the art bin or the top left drawer. The ink was not in either of these places (it was on a cabinet in the dining room behind a teacup) so it took me weeks to find it.

Sometimes the reason that ADHD spaces are so messy is because objects have been assigned homes in places that are visible and if they get moved they get lost. This is a genuinely difficult problem that requires a lot of effort to solve and can involve a lot of trial and error for creating a tidy living space. For some people, open shelving and visible storage might be a good solution. For some people, assigning a VERY clear home and inculcating that location by habit is the only way to clean up a space. For some people one very cluttered corner to at least isolate the chaos does the trick (for me and large bastard open shelving doesn't work because anything in one place for too long becomes invisible; that means that I rely on assigning things homes and large bastard relies on having contained chaos and a general idea of where to search but what that DOES NOT mean is that he is clean or tidy. His spaces look like an explosion. But he can mostly find his stuff and do what he needs to do and as long as that's limited to specific places in shared spaces I can live with it; the dining room table can be a disaster, the kitchen cannot).

People organize things differently. It often takes a while for neurotypical adults to settle into an organizational style that works for them and ADHD adults may need to settle into a new system every few months for it to continue working. The cleanup and declutter is most likely going to be a permanent project that is always going to demand some level of attention from everyone in a shared space, but "my ADHD means I can't do it" is not really going to fly. Maybe his ADHD means that he can't keep his space tidy, but it doesn't mean you can't move stuff from shared spaces into dump zones or that he can't do stuff around the house.

If he's insisting that his ADHD means that he can't clean it is possible that he's not being a shithead, he just feels helpless and doesn't know where to start and has adopted the belief that he's a useless piece of shit who can't even keep a tidy space like a grownup because he's internalized a lot of shitty attitudes (hello, my internal monologue about keeping a clean house). But it's also possible that he's just being a shithead.

It's something that's worthwhile to investigate with him. If he's unwilling to make an attempt, then he's being a shithead.

It is also not your responsibility to rehabilitate another person. If he wants to clean and it's something he feels bad about and needs some help and support with the way that someone might need help or support for learning to use a mobility aid, that is fine but you don't have to be the one who gives him that support if it's detrimental to your health, and you don't have to be the one to teach him that stuff if it's not something you're capable of. And if he is NOT interested in working on making your shared living space more accessible for you, that is not your suitcase to unpack and you just have to ask yourself the question from the start: would I stay with this person if I knew the situation was never going to change?

IDK, I'm sure a lot of this reads like "anon you must take on the emotional labor of training your partner to be an adult" but it's really meant to be more of a way of assessing yourself and your relationship. If you created landing zones do you think he'd use them? Would he get angry if you assigned a laundry basket as a dump zone for his stuff while you tidy the living room? Is living with him long-term going to be comfortable for you if nothing changes? Do you have enough of a shared definition of "mess" that you're at least in the ballpark for what counts as a clean house?

anyway good luck, and a reminder to folks that I'm compiling a bunch of adhd resources and other information on my personal website, ms-demeanor.com. It's coming along slowly but it will eventually include stuff like ADHD cleaning tips and how to tackle a hoard, so maybe keep your eye on that space.

2K notes · View notes

pucksandpower · 10 months ago

Text

Of Roomates and Revenge

Lewis Hamilton x fake girlfriend!Reader

Featuring Max Verstappen, Lando Norris, Charles Leclerc, Pierre Gasly, Esteban Ocon, and Nico Rosberg

Summary: in which your search for a free place to stay leads to helping one half of Brocedes live out his petty fantasy for revenge … and falling in love while doing so

Cat and Apartment Sitter Needed (Monaco)

Compensation: €1500/week plus all the Red Bull you can drink

I’m a world-traveling young professional who is rarely home. My two beautiful and rambunctious bengal cats need someone to stay with them in my Monaco apartment whenever I’m away for work.

The ideal candidate will be an experienced cat person who is prepared to deal with a lot of energy, chaos, and shenanigans from these two little terrors. They knock everything off every surface, wrestle at 3am, and will likely attempt to smother you while you sleep. If you can handle that, we’ll get along just fine.

In addition to caring for the cats, you will need to keep my place relatively tidy (i.e. no crushed Red Bull cans or fast food wrappers everywhere), collect any packages or mail that arrives, and randomly turn a few lights on and off every evening so the neighbors don’t get suspicious.

The position is ideal for a mature student, digital nomad, or someone between living situations who wants an amazing place to stay for free in one of the world’s hotspots.

Drop me a line if you think you can handle the cats from hell and wouldn't mind living in a 230 m² penthouse apartment with a private terrace, floor-to-ceiling windows, and a badass view of the Mediterranean. Preference goes to non-smokers who follow directions well and won’t throw ragers when I’m gone.

Send a brief intro, your experience with cats, and a couple photos attached. Urgently need someone for various stretches starting mid-February.

Do NOT contact me with unsolicited services or offers.

Live-in Cactus Caretaker Needed (Monaco)

Compensation: €1000/week, free snacks, and you can play my Xbox

I’m a young dude who’s rarely home because of my job that involves a lot of international travel. I have a single cactus plant that I promised my mum I would keep alive until she visits again. The thing is ... I have absolutely no idea how to care for plants. Like, I nearly killed it the first week by forgetting it existed.

What I need is someone responsible who can essentially live in my swanky Monaco apartment whenever I’m gone and keep my tiny cactus friend alive.

Duties would include:

Watering the cactus like ... once a month? Twice a month? I don’t know how often it needs water

Not letting the cactus die in any other way (pretty sure they need sunlight too … I think)

Keeping the place tidy (I’m a bit of a mess)

In return, you’d get:

A sick apartment all to yourself with a stunning view, giant TV, and full kitchen (please for the love of god be careful in there ... I almost burned the place down trying to make a grilled cheese once. Seriously, I'm not exaggerating. I almost went up in flames over a silly sandwich. If you can't even operate a microwave, we may have problems. There’s only room for one idiot like that in Monaco — and it’s me)

Unlimited snacks/drinks from my well-stocked pantry

Free rein over my gaming setup (just don’t break anything)

First dibs on any events/reservations I can’t make

The ideal person is responsible, shows they can follow basic instructions for cactus care, laidback since you’ll be alone a lot, and trustworthy enough not to wreck the place or throw illegal parties. Having a green thumb would be great, but frankly if you can manage not to kill the one plant, that’s good enough for me.

Send a brief bio about yourself and your qualifications as a cactus/housesitter if interested! I’m gone quite frequently starting in February so could use someone ASAP.

No scammy offers or soliciting, please!

Roommate Needed to Drink Wine and Listen to My Woes (Monaco)

Compensation: Free rent in a nice apartment, plus all the wine you can drink

Are you a good listener? Do you enjoy dry red wines and occasional bouts of tears and venting? If so, I’ve got the perfect living situation for you!

I’m a youngish guy with a high-stress job that involves a lot of traveling. When I’m home in Monaco, I tend to unwind by polishing off a couple bottles of nice Bordeaux or Burgundy while complaining about work, my colleagues, and my rival who is giving me really mixed signals.

What I need is a roommate who doesn’t mind a little drunken blubbering here and there.

You’ll get:

Your own bedroom in my spacious 2BR/2BA apartment in the La Condamine district

Rights to my kitchen, living room with large TV, piano, and music recording equipment

Access to the building’s pool, sauna, fitness center, and lounge areas

As much wine as you can drink (and more)

In exchange, you’ll be expected to:

Listen to my periodic rants and rave sessions without judgement

Preferably nod along or offer supportive-sounding feedback like “Yeah, that’s really tough man” or “Wow, they sound terrible”

Refill wine glasses as needed

Maybe rub my back or pat my head if I’m really going through it

The ideal candidate is a decent human being who can empathize with the high-pressure struggles of a young professional trying to make it in a cut-throat career.

You’ll need a decent amount of free time and lots of patience. Prior experience as a life coach, therapist, or sympathetic drinking buddy is a plus.

If you can handle crying guys after a few too many glasses of Châteauneuf-du-Pape, inquire within! Include a little about yourself and why you would make a good non-judgmental wine friend. Merci!

Expand Your Search? Similar Opportunities:

Impartial Referee Wanted for Parking Lot Brawls (France)

Compensation: €400 per event

Two athletic young men in their late-20s are looking for a level-headed third party to oversee and officiate their semi-regular parking lot boxing matches. Yes, you read that right — we’re talking straight-up fisticuffs in the back alley behind the Circuit Paul Ricard.

A little background: We’ve been frenemies/rivals since we were kids — constantly competing in friends, employment opportunities, you name it. There’s a healthy amount of hatred between us that simply can't be resolved through words alone. Every few months, we feel the need to just take out our pent-up aggression on each other's faces.

Up until now, it’s been an unregulated shitshow with no real rules or oversight. We’re looking for someone impartial who can:

Set some fair ground rules around where/how we can strike

Ensure no prop weapons get involved (last time he tried to scalp me with a wrench)

Officiate and declare a winner once one of us is knocked out or quits

Ideally have some basic first-aid skills in case of a nasty cut or broken nose

We will pay €400 cash at the start of each bout. You’ll get a free show of two extremely fit dudes wailing on each other until there’s a clear victor.

Loser exits with his tail between his legs, winner gets to gloat for the next couple months until we run it back.

If you can be a neutral third party and aren’t squeamish about a little blood, send us your info with some details about yourself and your experience resolving conflicts (legally or not). First come first served — our next fight is tentatively scheduled for mid-May!

No flakes or perverts, please. Serious connoisseurs of violence only.

P.S. Don’t be scared to give out penalties (one of us is used to that)

Actor or Actress Needed to Annoy Ungrateful Ex-Friend (Monaco)

Compensation: €2700 per week, free luxury accommodations

I’m a successful guy in my late 30s looking to hire someone to pretend to be my significant other for a few months. Before you get the wrong idea, let me explain ...

I had a major falling out with a former best friend who stabbed me in the back years ago. We live in the same apartment building, just one floor apart.

I’m trying to show him how amazing my life still is without him … and maybe make him jealous in the process.

That’s where you come in. I need you to move into my penthouse temporarily and act as my gorgeous new boyfriend/girlfriend.

Your main duties would include:

Loudly introducing yourself to said ex-friend by knocking on his door and being line “Hi, is [insert my name] here?” Then pretend to be embarrassed and apologize when he tells you that you’re at the wrong apartment

Hang out in the hallway near his place and have very loud fake conversations detailing our imaginary passionate nights together (rated R)

Post cringy coupley photos on your social media of us dressed up going out, cuddling on my yacht, etc

Ideally you’re an aspiring actor/actress or just a really convincing liar. Being somewhat loud and dramatic is a plus. You’ll need to be willing to play along if my petty ex-friend tries to confront us.

In return, you’ll be living in a lavish penthouse with all the amenities for free. You’ll have your own private suite and can hang out on the oversized balcony, by the pool, or in the media room when you’re off the clock. Might also be able to introduce you to some high-profile people if you’re trying to network.

Oh, and my bulldog will provide plenty of cuddles.

If you can pull off a remarkably realistic fake partner act and aren’t afraid of a little light deception, hit me up! Please include a couple photos plus a bit about yourself and your acting experience. Aiming to start mid-April.

I’m an equal opportunity employer — girlfriend, boyfriend, nonbinary partner, you name it. All genders welcome to apply for the role if you’ve got what it takes! Only preference is that you have especially luscious hair … for reasons.

No weirdos please.

Hi,

Okay, I have to admit — your ridiculous request to hire a fake girlfriend to make your ex-best friend jealous is quite possibly the pettiest thing I’ve ever heard. And I absolutely love it.

I’m literally the perfect person for this role. Petty vengeance is my middle name (well, not really, it's actually Y/M/N ... but you get the idea).

A little about my qualifications:

Took some theatre electives in university so I can really sell the dramatics

Lots of experience putting on an Oscar-worthy performance faking ... well, you know ... thanks to my douchebag ex-boyfriend who couldn’t be bothered to learn how to pleasure a woman 🙄

Not afraid to get LOUD and will happily reenact our “passionate nights” at earsplitting volumes in that hallway

Can pull off playing dumb if your friend tries to interrogate me about you (“Oh [whatever your name is]? Yeah he’s just the best at ... stuff”)

No shame in my pettiness game — I once spent my weekly paycheck on a Cameo just so an ex’s favorite celebrity would call him a dingleberry

In terms of looks, I’ve been told I have just the right amount of “hot” to make your poor pal jealous without it being too unbelievable. I’m attaching a few photos for reference.

Let me know if you want to meet up for a glass of wine and we can workshop some juicy storylines for our imaginary romance. Perhaps I was a former fling you rediscovered? A hot younger thing giving you a new lease on life? The possibilities are endless!

I’m a pro at faking it, so selling our relationship will be a piece of cake. Your ex-friend will be bright green with envy by the time I’m through!

Let’s make him regret the day he double-crossed you, babe.

Cheers,

Y/N

r/offmychest

u/NotBritneySpears · 16h

My ex-best friend’s new girlfriend is the WORST!

I really need to get this off my chest. My upstairs neighbor’s new girlfriend is, without a doubt, the most insufferable human being on the planet. She’s loud, obnoxious, and seems to take immense pleasure in tormenting me for some reason.

A little background: I used to be really close friends with my neighbor. We had a big falling out a while back over ... well, it’s a long story. We don’t talk anymore and there’s a lot of resentment between us. Clearly the universe is trying to get back at me now with this new girl.

This chick has made it her personal mission to give me a play-by-play account of every single intimate encounter she has with him. And I mean DETAILED accounts. The other day I was just trying to enjoy my morning coffee and I hear her incredibly shrill voice from right outside my door:

“Oh he was an ANIMAL last night! The things he did with his tongue, I thought I was going to pass out!”

Like, seriously? Keep it to yourself, weirdo! That’s just the tame stuff too. Sometimes she’ll go into pretty graphic detail describing body parts and positions that I really didn’t need a mental picture of.

Here’s the thing — she quite obviously positions herself to be as close as possible to my apartment without actually trespassing — I mean, she doesn’t even live on my floor for god’s sake! So every word comes through crystal clear. I’ve confronted her about it a few times and she just plays dumb, like:

“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry if I was being loud! We just get so carried away sometimes, you know how it is,” with this stupid ditzy valley girl voice and hair toss.

I don’t know if my former best friend put her up to this or if she’s just a massive troll in her own right. But it’s like psychological warfare at this point. Literally ANY time I’m home, I have to listen to her yap about their Sex Olympian-level escapades.

My wife even heard them once and thought I was playing porn at an insane volume! She doesn’t believe me that it’s just this deranged lady running her mouth constantly.

I’m half-tempted to start recording her rants and blast them back at full volume to give them a taste of their own medicine. Or maybe start describing lurid details of my own (admittedly not quite so colorful) sex life in retaliation.

I don’t know, maybe I’m being oversensitive. But living under these two insufferable assholes is a waking nightmare. I need to move or something because this is massively affecting my peace of mind. Who knows if they will ever get bored of tormenting me and move on.

Rant over. Thanks for letting me vent about the neighbors from hell.

u/chronicgossiper · 12h

Damn, that sucks man. Your neighbor and his gf sound like immature assholes trying to get a rise out of you. I’d look into noise complaint options or even see if you can get them evicted for harassment.

Reply to u/chronicgossiper · 11h

Seriously? You really think the landlord would evict someone over this? It’s not like they’re blasting music at 3am. Sounds more like passive aggressive pettiness than anything illegal.

u/chronicgossiper · 10h

Idk, having to listen to people loudly describe their sex acts against your will seems like it could qualify as harassment or creating a hostile environment. Worth exploring at least if they won’t stop.

u/NotBritneySpears · 9h

Eviction isn’t really an option here since we all own our apartments and there’s no landlord dictating that. It’s not that type of building.

u/nosyandproud · 8h

Did your former friend move into that building first or did you move in knowing he lived there?

u/NotBritneySpears · 7h

He was there first, I bought my place a few years after him when I could afford it. Never expected he'd pull something this childish.

Reply to u/NotBritneySpears · 6h

So you willingly moved into the same building as your ex-best friend that you aren’t on speaking terms with? That’s just asking for drama, dude.

u/NotBritneySpears · 5h

It’s a great building in an amazing location. I wasn’t going to not pursue the opportunity just because he lives there too. It’s a big place, I didn’t think we’d be running into each other much.

Reply to u/NotBritneySpears · 4h

Still seems like a weird decision to willingly insert yourself into his orbit like that if the relationship was so fractured. Probably should’ve seen some fallout coming.

u/nosyandproud · 3h

Yeah exactly, why would you move somwhere your ex-friend lives if you two clash that much? Kinda put yourself in this situation.

u/NotBritneySpears · 2h

Okay, let me be clear — he and I were best friends for over a decade before we had a colossal falling out a few years ago. We’re not just some casual ex-buddies who don’t get along. We were legitimately very close for most of our lives until things went nuclear between us. When I decided to move into the building, our friendship had been over for a while already. I really didn’t anticipate he’d take things to this vindictive level years later. I’m not going to miss out on my dream home just because of what happened between us.

Reply to u/NotBritneySpears · 1h

This is getting juicyyy, do tell about what caused the falling out!

u/NotBritneySpears

Not really trying to dredge up old drama, that’s a whole other can of worms. The girlfriend situation is annoying enough as is.

Reply to u/NotBritneySpears · 51m

Fair enough, you gave context. Still think you two need to have an adult conversation about boundaries. Purposely trying to loudly narrate their sex life at you is unhinged.

r/relationships

u/yourusername · 19h

I’m catching real feelings for the guy who hired me to be his fake girlfriend to get revenge on his ex-friend ... help?

Buckle up folks, because I’ve got one hell of a tangled situation to unpack here. This is going to be a long one.

About a month ago, I responded to this Facebook Marketplace ad from a guy (let’s call him L) looking to hire someone to pretend to be his new girlfriend. The goal was to make his former best friend/downstairs neighbor jealous after a brutal falling out between them.

I know, I know, it sounds ridiculous. But the benefits were good and I’d be living in his insane luxury penthouse in Monaco rent-free. More importantly, I really vibed with L’s pettiness and desire to get deliciously pathetic revenge on his ex-friend. My last boyfriend was the actual worst, so I was absolutely here for any slightly insane Karen antics.

Anyway, we hit it off immediately at the “audition” over drinks. L is brilliant, successful, gorgeous, and fucking hilarious in a sarcastic, unfiltered way. We both have a wicked mean streak and frankly get off on emotionally messy situations. It was like looking into a mirror — two beautiful trainwrecks finding each other in the wreckage.

From night one, we had crazy chemistry. The back-and-forth banter was electric, we finished each other’s sentences, etc. I felt so comfortable around him despite the bizarre circumstances. I assumed it was all fun and games to toy with his former best friend.

But over the last few weeks of loudly chronicling our “sex marathons”!outside said ex-friend’s door and doing phony coupley things around the city, I’ve realized my feelings are ... complicated. L and I CONNECT on a deeper level, in addition to just being partners in crime. We’ll be tangled up watching movies and he’ll make some perfectly timed quippy comment that has me cackling until my abs hurt. Or we’ll get deliriously wasted and end up baring our souls about our upbringings, dreams, fears — everything.

I’ve never been so open or comfortable around someone before. Our walls are gone. And the most messed up part? Some small, perverse part of me loves the strange intimacy we’ve manufactured through this farce. How much closer can you get than meticulously co-creating a fictional relationship?

In the beginning, I think we were both just in it for the laughs and pettiness factor. But something shifted for me recently. One night we were drunkenly rehearsing how I was going to describe our latest imaginary tryst to his ex-friend and ... I don’t know, I couldn’t stop staring at his lips while he was talking. His face was so close to mine and I felt breathless. In that moment, I wanted nothing more than to ditch the script and really kiss him. I had to physically stop myself from lunging forward.

Later, when I went back to my room, I was hit with a crushing wave of realization — I have actual romantic FEELINGS for this basketcase who hired me to play-act as his girlfriend! What the actual fuck?

Guys, I’m in too deep. How did I let this happen? L is technically still my employer and this whole operation has an expiration date. His former friend is already growing visibly annoyed, so Phase 2 (feign a dramatic breakup, I move out, L moves on with his life) is likely coming up very soon.

Do I just bury my feelings and end this gig without saying anything? Do I risk the humiliation of confessing my heart to someone who was only pretending to want me around? Or should I just go for it and make out with him next time we’re tangled on the couch? I’m spiraling here!

The pettiness that brought us together may also tear us apart. Or maybe I’m just a sad clown who read too much into a fake relationship. Someone slap me with a reality check, please! I need perspective from the outside.

Tl;DR - Developed legit romantic feelings for the guy who hired me to be his fake girlfriend as part of his weird revenge plot. Not sure if I should come clean, keep it professional, or start actually making out with him for real. This was NOT part of the deal!

u/judgingloudly · 18h

Oh honey, you are in a MESS. This is like a bad romcom plot but IRL. I think your only real option is to fess up and tell L how you’re feeling. Contrary to popular belief, the fake dating trope doesn’t always have to stay pretend!

If he doesn’t feel the same way, at least you put it all out there and can move on with some dignity intact. But who knows — from how you describe the crazy chemistry and connection, he might feel relieved you said something first! Don’t let this fire burn out without taking your shot. Oh and definitely keep us updated, I’m invested now!

Reply to u/judgingloudly · 17h

I agree with this take. You already acknowledged you’re in too deep emotionally. Might as well put those cards on the table and let the chips fall where they may. Shooting your shot is always better than letting the “what if” eat away at you forever!

u/livefordrama · 16h

I’m sorry but I simply must ask — how did you land a gig like this? And does he happen to have any more openings for a fake girlfriend? Asking for a friend …

u/yourusername · 15h

Honestly it was a random Facebook ad looking for exactly this — a girl to move in and fake date this guy to drive his feuding neighbor up the wall. I applied semi-joking but he picked me!

As for openings, not that I know of ... yet. I may have to quit soon depending how this all plays out, so will keep you posted if my spot opens up!

Reply to u/yourusername · 14h

Omg please do! I would 100% take on a role like this, it sounds like a total riot.

u/unpaidtherapist · 13h

Girl, I think you already know what you have to do here. Is keeping things professional and never admitting your feelings really an option at this point? You’re clearly enamored with this guy and he seems to reciprocate the intensity at least platonically so far. I say GO FOR IT!

Just pull him aside one day, say “hey this isn’t just an act for me anymore, I really like you and need to know if there’s a possibility for us or not.” If he’s as caught off guard and freaked out as you’re implying, a direct conversation is needed to get those cards on the table. Don’t die wondering “what if?” That’s my advice.

u/everydayopportunist · 12h

This is so wild, I’m living for this drama! Seriously might need to pursue some similar gigs myself, apparently that’s where all the romance happens these days 😂

u/devilsadvocate · 11h

I’m sorry but I have to go against the grain here — please do NOT make a move or confess any feelings! This guy hired you for a very specific job under very specific pretenses. Catching real feels was not part of the deal at all. Selfishly throwing that at him out of the blue would be so unfair after he opened his home to you. I worry he could feel betrayed and violated even if he did secretly like you back.

My advice? Give it a few weeks, see if these feelings persist or if it was just a passing crush brought on by the intimacy you’ve found yourselves in. If it’s still intense after cooling off, then maybe consider looping him in. But don’t go nuclear until you're absolutely sure. You could risk imploding a good work situation and friendship over a temporary infatuation. Tread very lightly!

Reply to u/devilsadvocate · 10h

I’m with this take, OP shouldn’t jeopardize her living situation if her feelings might be fleeting. Taking a step back and giving it more time could provide clarity. It’s easy to get caught up in the fantasy.

The more prudent move is to wait until the “job” wraps up before considering opening that can of worms. If feelings persist minus the contrived closeness, she’ll know it's real. But springing it on the guy now seems wildly unfair and could blow up in her face.

r/AmITheAsshole

u/veganGOAT · 15h

AITA for turning down my fake girlfriend after she admitted feelings, only to want her back days later?

I think I may have tremendously fucked up in a spectacularly messy way. Let me walk you through the tangled web I’ve woven ...

A couple months ago, I (39M) hired this woman to essentially move into my apartment and pretend to be my new girlfriend. I know it sounds batshit crazy … but I was trying to make my ex-best friend/neighbor jealous after a bitter falling out between us.

She was the perfect partner for this ruse — sarcastic and spunky, with a hint of unhinged energy. We bonded instantly over bottles of wine and throwing deliciously overblown “loud sex” performances in the hallway to drive my ex-friend nuts. What was meant to be a transaction quickly bloomed into a legitimately fun, effortless friendship.

Soon after, we started having real sex. It sort of just … happened, albeit very awkwardly at first. Like “well this is weird, want to try it for real just to see?” And what do you know, we had insane chemistry between the sheets too! We were soon sleeping together nearly every night, always swearing afterwards that it was “just for fun” and didn’t mean anything more.

But I started catching feelings. She was hilarious, confident, beautiful — everything I could ever want in a partner. We had connected on a deeper level through the medium of batshit pettiness. And our physical intimacy only amplified that bond.

Cut to a couple weeks ago. We had just finished a particularly athletic round and were cuddled up, spent. Out of nowhere, she pipes up nervously: “Hey … I think I’m really falling for you. I don't want this to just be sex or games anymore. I want to really try being together.”

I froze. The words I had been longing to hear suddenly terrified me in that moment. My throat clenched up as a wave of panic crashed over me (yes, I’m well aware of how stupid this was in hindsight). After an agonizing pause, I managed to choke out: “I’m sorry, but I can’t do that. This thing between us was only ever supposed to be fake. I don’t think of you that way.”

I could actually see her face crumble. She quickly mumbled “okay” and slid out of my bed, wrapping a sheet around herself to cover her dejection. I swear I heard muffled sobs through the wall once she was back in her guest room. I felt like a piece of shit.

The next few days were some of the most awkward, brutal tension I’ve ever experienced. She was now acting like a scorned woman just doing her job, no intimacy whatsoever. We could barely make eye contact.

It took seeing her so closed off, so cold, for me to realize how much I desperately missed her warmth, humor, friendship. How much I longed for the easy intimacy we once had, both emotional and physical. I tried a few times to apologize or explain myself, but she brushed me off — utterly walled off to protect herself.

After days of wrestling with my suppressed feelings, I realized that I was in love with this wonderful woman. Hiring her as a fake girlfriend was one of the best things I had ever done because it brought her into my life … and now I didn’t want to let her go. She was becoming my person, even if she had started out as a farce.

But here’s where I really need some impartial perspective — AITA for freezing up and rejecting her confession?

I didn’t meant to tank her feelings so callously. I think I just ... panicked in that moment. The idea of committing to a real relationship terrified me in ways I didn’t expect. My career keeps me constantly on the go, always jet-setting to the next thing. Could I really give a romance the time and energy it deserves right now?

Part of me also felt massively conflicted about the circumstances. I’m literally paying her to pretend to be my girlfriend as a sort of ongoing petty revenge. If I admitted I wanted to actually date her, wouldn't that blur consent lines in some messed up way? Like, is she just going along with it because she’s on the payroll?

I know these both sound like flimsy excuses, but they were very real fears racing through my mind in that moment. Fears that made me impulsively reject her, despite how utterly gone I was.

Now, days later, those same hangups don’t seem so insurmountable. Maybe she and I could make something work, travel schedules and all. And if she reciprocated feelings, it would be a starting point — not her just placating me for a check. We could rip up the old arrangement and start fresh.

But I haven’t confessed any of this to her yet out of gut-wrenching cowardice. She’s still giving me this cold, professional shoulder. I don’t know how to begin recanting my idiotic reaction and opening up about the REAL reasons I panicked — the commitment fears, the moral dilemma, all of it.

Part of me wonders if I even have the right to try and pursue things with her at this point? I absolutely shattered her feelings for my own hangups just days ago. AITA for potentially stringing her along further by trying to retroactively take it all back? Maybe I’ve missed my window and should just let this phase of my life be over before it gets even more painful and messy?

Ugh, I’m rambling now. The crux is — AITA for how I recklessly rejected her in that moment? Do I even have a right to try and make amends after that thunderous fumble? Or should I just take the L, chalk it up to collateral damage of being in the world’s most messy pseudo-relationship, and move on?

u/juryofone · 14h

YTA, but only because you handled the initial rejection in the worst way possible. Your reasons for hesitating are somewhat understandable. But you really dropped the ball in communicating that to her in the moment.

Instead of calmly explaining where your headspace was at, you just blurted out a kneejerk rejection that crushed her feelings. No wonder she went ice cold — that had to sting like hell! If you had taken a breath and talked it through with more nuance, maybe you could’ve reached an understanding.

The good news is, you’ve now realized how much you DO want this woman in your life as more than a pretend romance. I don’t think you’re an AH for having those feelings or wanting to pursue her again, provided you make a sincere, thoughtful effort to apologize for your tactless approach before.

My advice? Explain the real reasons you froze up, how torn you felt over everything, and make it clear you still have feelings. But lead with a heartfelt apology for how horribly you botched it at first. If she’s willing to give you one more chance after that, DO NOT blow it.

Reply to u/juryofone · 13h

I agree with this take. He’s not an AH for the situation, but majorly the AH for the WAY he handled rejecting her. That had to sting badly after putting herself out there. The mature thing is to own up to that and properly communicate where his head was at.

Reply to u/juryofone · 12h

Yeah, going straight for “I can’t do that, I don’t think of you that way” after she bared her soul was so harsh and unnecessary. He could have let her down wayyyy more gently if he was that conflicted about it all. She must’ve felt like a fool!

u/neutralpartier · 11h

NAH — I get that you panicked in the heat of the moment and why this whole situation is heavy with ethical quandaries. The reality is, you two started off pretending but real feelings developed, and that’s okay! It happens. The moral issue only remains if you knowingly took advantage of or manipulated her feelings while she was on your payroll. Since you seem just as confused as she was, I don’t think any lines were really crossed.

The way forward is to rip off the bandaid once and for all. If you have mutual feelings now, figure out if you want to date as equals. If not, it’s time to part ways amicably while you both still can. But don’t keep paying her while catching feels — THAT would make you an AH.

u/glasshalfempty · 10h

ESH ... look, you suck for how you handled rejecting her confession. That was really hurtful and avoidant no matter your internal struggles. She sucks for going into this thinking it was all pretend, catching real feelings, and expecting you to want to be serious too. You PAID her to be your fake GF and made that clear.

My suggestion is to have an honest discussion about whether you can BOTH separate the transactions from reality. If you’re both all-in on trying for real, great! But one of you is going to get burned if expectations don’t align. And please, for the love of god, stop paying her!

Reply to u/glasshalfempty · 9h

This is exactly what I was thinking too! Way too messy ethically to keep paying her as the lines blur between fantasy job and real romance. Either take the plunge and date properly or go separate ways for good.

Reply to u/glasshalfempty · 8h

Agree but like ... is this even real? How does someone end up hiring a fake girlfriend to make their former best friend jealous? That alone sounds like a bad romcom plot.

u/criticaloverthinker · 7h

I’m calling cap on this whole wild story. Childhood besties turned feuding enemies living in the same building? A fake girlfriend who moves in as part of an elaborate revenge plan? It’s all too unbelievable.

u/struggling-with-reddit · 6h

I’ll play along and rate, but no way is this post legit lol. Having a fake girlfriend you eventually catch feelings for while pranking your neighbor? What’s next, one of you is actually royalty or a secret millionaire? Too much happening here.

Reply to u/struggling-with-reddit · 5h

Hahaha I know right, the excessive details and backstory gave it away as creative writing practice or something. No judgment from me, it was an entertaining read at least!

u/struggling-with-reddit · 4h

Next thing you know, OP will be claiming he’s Michael Schumacher or something 😂

r/AmITheAsshole

u/veganGOAT · 8h

UPDATE — I’m the idiot who rejected then realized I loved my fake girlfriend … and she took me back!

When I made my initial post a bit over a month ago about this whole fake girlfriend situation, most of you understandably called it outrageously far-fetched.

Which, fair. How does someone actually end up hiring a woman to fake date them just to make their neighbor jealous? It does sound ripped straight from a Nicholas Sparks fever dream.

Well put on your straight jackets, because this ridiculous saga is 100% real. And I’ve got an update that’s even crazier than the original tale ...

After reading the feedback on my initial post (and getting a whole lot of shit from some friends too), it became crystal clear that I had to make things right. I put her through the emotional wringer by callously rejecting her in the moment, when her feelings were just as tangled up as mine were. I owed her a sincere apology and a proper explanation of why I froze — with no more deflections or excuses.

So I wrote her a long letter. I laid it all out there. How torn I felt about the ethical and emotional complexities of our arrangement. How her vulnerability awoke my own fears about commitment, my transient lifestyle, and whether I could realistically be the partner she deserved. Mostly, I repeatedly owned up to being a thoughtless prick who shattered her trust out of pure pathetic self-preservation.

But above all, I made one thing clear — despite my bumbling, I had fallen for her too. Completely and utterly. She had cracked through my defenses and healing her hurt became the only thing that mattered.

I ended the letter by owning up to the fact that she now held all the power. While she had moved into this arrangement under certain pretenses, I had violated that implied contract. The ball was entirely in her court now. I would abide by whatever decision she landed on — friendship, an amicable parting of ways, or taking the terrifying gamble of trying to make this the real deal.

When she emerged from her room the next morning, I could barely look at her. I was a sweaty, nauseated wreck, steeling myself for the worst. She sat down next to me in silence and unleashed the longest, most blistering dressing down of my life. How I had made her feel so small, so foolish, so painfully vulnerable. Words like “coward” and “asshole” were thrown around. But you know what phrase stung most?

“I wish you had told me all of this up front instead of dealing with it like a child. I could’ve understood where you were coming from.”

It was a dagger — she was absolutely right. My dumb automatic rejection utterly betrayed the openness and intimacy we had built. Still, she didn’t dismiss me entirely. She would need some time to think, but asked that I stand by for an answer.

The limbo period was … not fun.

After four excruciating days, she came to me again. This time, she was almost shy, like her old self. She told me she had thought it over extensively, and ultimately my explanation and full-hearted apology won her over. I may be an idiot, an asshole, and a bit of a mess (her words), but I was an honest idiot with a good heart under all the bravado. And that’s what had drawn her to me in the first place.

So with the understanding that we would both need to work on our communication skills and respective hang-ups, she was in. We would press the reset button altogether, end our old arrangement, and try to make this relationship happen for real — messy origins be damned.

That was exactly a month ago today, and things have never been better. Sure, we still lean into some harmless (and vaguely unhinged) pettiness with my former friend from time to time. Some habits are too fun to quit cold turkey. But ultimately, I’ve never been so grateful for the insane set of circumstances that brought this amazing woman into my life. We may have started as an acting exercise, but we took a leap together into something beautifully real.

And yeah, I still have to hear shit from literally everyone about how our romance origin story is the most unbelievable meet-cute of all time. But I’ve learned to lean into the absurdity. After all, what’s life without a little chaos and a perfect partner to share in the pandemonium?

Thanks to everyone who offered candid advice on my original post. You may have received an update sooner if not for all the people accusing me of faking it! All I can say is … this is my blissfully ridiculous reality now.

u/juryofone · 7h

Well hot damn, I have to hand it to you — this saga is even wilder than the original post let on! I went from being totally skeptical of the whole outrageous situation to being fully invested in this insane romance. Love that she put you through the wringer a bit before taking you back. You absolutely deserved that and more after treating her like you did.

But huge props to you for manning up with that apology and giving her the power to make the next move. That vulnerability and respect for her feelings despite your own doubts is what true partnership is all about. I have a feeling you two chaotic bastards are going to be just fine as a real couple now that all the crazy pretenses have been stripped away. Wishing you both nothing but more pandemonium and pettiness together!

u/neutralpartier · 7h

I’m officially obsessed with this love story. You went from hiring a woman off to punk your neighbor, to breaking her heart over catching feelings, to doing the MOST to grovel your way back into her good graces, to ACTUALLY SUCCEEDING. It’s romcom gold! I need this to get optioned for a movie immediately.

u/glasshalffull · 6h

As wild as this story has been from start to finish, this update has me straight up emotional! The groveling, the way you explained your fears, her roasting you for days before mercifully taking you back … my heart. Love that she cut straight through the bullshit by calling you an idiot AND acknowledging your good heart. That’s the ideal balance.

I’m so invested in this nonsense and need regular updates on how things progress from here. You better not blow it after all this chaos or I’ll be leading the charge to vandalize your apartment!

u/romanticempath · 5h

What a journey! To go from manufacturing a fake relationship purely for petty vengeance, to developing REAL emotional stakes, to breaking each other's hearts quite viscerally, to finding your way back together through sheer vulnerability? Incredible stuff.

I laughed, cried (a little, don’t judge), and cringed throughout this entire saga. Thank you for bringing us all along for the insane roller coaster. I wish nothing but ridiculous happiness for you and her moving forward!

u/fairytaledreamer · 4h

I’m sorry but I still can’t get over the fact that this is somehow a real series of events? You’re a madman and this is truly unhinged (but also incredible). How did ALL of this unfold before your 40s?

Romcoms have been put to bed. Welcome to 2024, where people actually hire fake GFs to get revenge on their scorned former friends, develop legit attachment issues, torpedo everything in a panic, grovel for redemption fit for cinematic history, and somehow STILL end up together in some sort of demented happily ever after!

All I can say is cherish the chaos you've manifested. I can’t wait to see what bonkers plotlines await the two you. Start recording everything for the biopic!

Reply to u/fairytaledreamer · 3h

“Cherish the chaos” is absolutely the perfect sign off for this update. I’m deceased at this whole wild drama, but also soooo invested! Cannot wait for the inevitable Netflix mini series. Thanks for the laughs, drama, and emotional whiplash!

r/offmychest

u/NotBritneySpears · 21h

My ex-bestie’s wedding to his obnoxious girlfriend was a nightmare … and so was their wedding night (unfortunately)

You’ll have to bear with me on this one, because I’m still reeling a bit from one of the most cringey, uncomfortable, and downright baffling weekends of my entire life. I need to get this off my chest before I have a full mental breakdown.

A couple years ago, I made a post venting about my former best friend’s new girlfriend at the time. For those who missed the saga, she was an insufferably loud woman who seemed to take immense pleasure in loudly narrating her sex life with my former friend right outside my apartment door. It was psychological warfare, plain and simple.

Well, I’m sure you can all see where this is going based on the title. Against all odds and reason, this woman and my ex-friend somehow stuck it out … until he put a ring on it last year. Which leads me to the first in a cascading series of mind-numbing events — receiving a wedding invitation from the happy couple!

Now, let’s be clear — I have not spoken to my former best friend in almost a decade at this point. Not since our cataclysmic falling out (a story for another day). We were thick as thieves until our bond was shattered beyond repair. For him to invite me to his wedding with the woman who crudely mocked their intimacy for my benefit was … certainly a choice.

On one hand, why on EARTH would you invite the person whose heart you deliberately stomped on so many years ago? It felt like a cruel joke, rubbing salt in an open wound that never fully healed. A reminder of their domestic bliss and my bitter ostracism.

Yet on the other hand, maybe there was a subconscious part of me that would have felt insulted if he didn’t invite me after so many shared years? As if he had utterly erased me from his life without a second thought? The thought gut punched me too in an admittedly unhealthy way.

Long story short, I RSVP’d yes … half out of morbid curiosity and half out of a deeply unwell desire to not get excluded from such a significant life event. In hindsight, a foolish decision that kicked off a horrifically uncomfortable series of events.

The wedding itself was … a lot. An over-the-top spectacle at an insanely expensive venue. My miserable self stuck out like a sore thumb surrounded by all the adoring couple’s friends and family. I sat through mushy vows reaffirming their “unlikely origin” in the “most unexpected yet fortuitous way” … while trying not to puke.

So yeah, sheer cringe start to finish. Little did I know the worst discomfort was yet to come!

In perhaps the most on-brand grand gesture of the entire weekend, the groom rented out an entire boutique hotel for all out-of-town guests to stay at after the reception. That way we could all keep the party going nearby before he whisked his new bride off to parts unknown on their honeymoon the next day.

Ever the gracious host with a penchant for the spectacle, he let wedding guests draw for their room assignments out of an actual top hat. I somehow managed to get seated right next to his parents who, while cordial enough, knew me as the ex-best friend responsible for so much fractured history.

But wait, there’s more! Wouldn’t you know, the universe is supremely messed up because I ended up with the room directly underneath the newlywed suite. Yes … I spent their wedding night listening to a live-streamed porn broadcast courtesy of the paper-thin walls and floors.

Dolphin sounds didn’t even BEGIN to cover the unholy noises raining down from above around 2am. I’m talking full-on screams of unbridled passion echoing off the walls at maximum volume. Mind you, this woman had become infamous for over-enunciating their coitus for my benefit previously. Now it was a frighteningly real-life rendition that no noise-cancelling headphones could drown out.

I finally had to flee my room to the lobby. I ended up crashing on one of the lobby couches until an employee politely asked me to leave around 6am. Disheveled, disoriented, and officially diagnosed with PTSD from the sounds I cannot unhear.

So yeah … not exactly a therapeutic reunion that could have allowed my ex-friend and I to bury the hatchet. If anything, this wedding was one massive “screw you” that opened up all the same unresolved wounds. I need about 20 years of intensive therapy to move on.

I also need to find a new place to live because I can’t bear returning to that cursed apartment building.

u/chronicgossiper · 18h

Dude, I think you need to get some serious perspective here. Your ex-friend getting married and going on a honeymoon has absolutely zero to do with you. That level of self-centeredness is off the charts.

Why in the world would this guy plan an entire wedding — one of the biggest days of his life — around secretly tormenting you again over ancient history? That makes no sense. He invited you as a polite gesture after years apart, probably hoping to start burying the hatchet. The room assignments were random by your own admission.

As for the … “noises” … look, they were on their wedding night. Maybe overenthusiastic, but 100% to be expected between newlyweds. It’s not some psychological ploy, just poor planning on their part for thin walls. You’re projecting like crazy if you think that was directed at you specifically.

At a certain point, you have to realize the universe doesn’t actually revolve around your grudges or history with this person. They’ve clearly moved on to live their best life. It’s on you to stop obsessing over them and do the same.

Reply to u/chronicgossiper · 16h

I agree, this is just pure paranoia from OP. No newly wedded couple is sitting around thinking “how can we sneakily stick it to your ex-best friend during our wedding festivities?” That’s deranged thinking.

They invited you to be polite, you drew an unlucky room assignment near their suite, and then biology happened on their wedding night. Hilarious and awkward coincidence? Yes. Intricately designed fuck you from the bride and groom? Come on now, that’s giving them way too much credit.

u/NotBritneySpears · 13h

Maybe you all have a point, and I am still holding onto way too much resentment and baggage from our falling out. My intention wasn’t to imply they orchestrated an elaborate sting operation around their wedding. More just a general sense that the universe has a funny way of reminding me about them at highly inconvenient times over the years.

Reply to u/NotBritneySpears · 12h

Even that line of thinking is incredibly self-centered though. Why would random coincidences or them just … living their lives be the “universe’s way of reminding you” about your failed friendship? That makes it sound like they should perpetually be walking on eggshells and avoiding certain life events just because you can’t get over the past.

Look, it sucks that things fell apart so badly between you two. But they have clearly moved on, as you should too. This obsessive framing of their marriage as some universal affront to you is … not healthy, my dude.

u/nosyandproud · 10h

The wedding itself sounds like it was in poor taste for sure, so I can certainly understand feeling aggravated and triggered being there as the scorned former friend.

That said … you’re borrowing A LOT of trouble by assuming any of their private wedding night activities were purposely being broadcast to you specifically. Projection level 1000 there.

At the end of the day, these people have built a whole entire life and future together now that quite literally has nothing to do with you anymore. You looking for “signs” that they’re still fixated on you is just self-involvement. For your own mental health, you have to let go of whatever happened and see them as background characters in the story of your life now.

u/realitychecker · 7h

OP, you need to take a step back and realize that the sheer logistics involved in purposely torturing you at their wedding are just not plausible. Do you really think they were like:

“Alright honey, for our wedding night I was thinking we should make sure your former friend gets the room directly below ours! That way when we really get after it, he’ll be able to hear every excruciating moan and body smacking sound in haunting detail! That’ll show him for being your friend a decade ago! Mwahaha!”

Come on, mate. That’s delusional cartoon villain level scheming you’re attributing to them. Occam's Razor — they just wanted to consummate their marriage in privacy and didn’t account for the thin hotel walls. The world doesn’t actually revolve around your history with this!

Reply to u/realitychecker · 5h

Lmaooo the idea of them sitting around strategizing the most psychological warfare possible on their wedding night is killing me. “Yes honey, we simply MUST reenact scenes from our noisiest adult films for your ex-best friend’s terrible pleasure!”

u/buildingbridges

OP, it seems like you really miss having your friend in your life if I’m reading between the lines here. Getting invested to this level over random coincidences at his wedding doesn’t come from a place of hatred, but hurt and longing for that bond again.

My advice? Use this weekend as a wake-up call to stop obsessing, reflect on whatever caused your rift, and decide if you want to properly reconnect. If not, you need to rip that band-aid off for good and stop torturing yourself over what will never be again. Or the walls between you two will just get thinner and thinner ...

r/ask

u/amateurdetective · 15h

I think these juicy Reddit posts actually interconnect … but I need your help cracking the code

I think I’ve stumbled onto something wild here and I need the Reddit hive mind to help me piece this tangled web together. Are you ready for some batshit conspiracy-level connecting of barely-there dots? Too bad, I’m going in anyway.

So, over the past few years, I kept seeing these extremely juicy, dramatically-written posts pop up every few months that seemed … oddly interconnected despite being in different subreddits.

Hear me out:

First there was the unhinged post in r/offmychest from a guy ranting about his former best friend’s obnoxious new girlfriend. Dude was griping about how this woman would loudly recount the smutty details of her sex life with the ex-friend whenever she was in his general vicinity, seemingly just to mess with the OP. We’re talking legitimately disturbing stuff about feeling “psychologically tortured” by her oversharing.

Fast forward a few months and I stumble across a wild post in r/relationships from the perspective of this same “obnoxious” girlfriend! Except her story painted a whole different, unhinged picture — she was hired on FACEBOOK MARKETPLACE by the former friend to literally move in and fake date him as part of an ongoing revenge plot against the OP from the first post. She rapidly develops legitimate feelings for the guy and it becomes a messy will-they-won’t-they romcom situation.

But THEN there was a follow-up post from the fake boyfriend’s side in r/AmITheAsshole about him realizing he caught feelings too before nearly blowing it, followed by another saga-capping update about them deciding to pursue a real relationship against all odds and absurdity.

Are you seeing the parallels here? These three posters each gave one side of an absolute dumpster fire of a convoluted love triangle situation that seemingly intersected. And based on the intricate backstories, my crackpot theory is they all emanated from the same formerly tight friend group that experienced a bitter falling out.

The insane attention to detail, literary flair, and geometry of it all almost had me utterly convinced these were all fictionalized creative writing exercises posted separately across Reddit … but building on the same unhinged storylines each step of the way.

I’m utterly obsessed with mapping this all out into one cohesive narrative now. My working theory is something like this:

Some guy hired an actress to pose as his fake GF and torment his former friend as revenge for some past betrayal

The two fake partners rapidly caught real feelings amid the ruse, he panics and nearly torpedoes it

Meanwhile, the ex-best friend is losing his mind overhearing the fake girlfriend’s loud performances and comes to Reddit for advice, not realizing it’s all a ploy

After a saga of miscommunication, the fake boyfriend comes clean and the couple decide to actually date for real

Capping things off, the former friend is forced to attend their wedding where he’s subjected to one final night of unholy noises

Does it all track? Or have I completely unraveled the conspiracy and stumbled onto a drastically personal set of circumstances being workshopped on Reddit? If so, that’s some ludicrously elaborate storytelling!

I need to know if I’m onto something here or completely off my rocker. If the former, I’ll burn every last calorie mapping out a master record of events across all the posts. If the latter … someone needs to drop their juicy fanfic writing prompts because these were WILDLY entertaining reads.

Help me connect these dots or point me towards any other potentially linked tales! This has been a public service aneurysm brought to you by pure boredom.

u/scepeticbynature · 14h

Wow, you’ve gone full Sherlock Holmes with this. I’m dying at how insanely detailed your working theory is in tying together these random Reddit posts into one cohesive narrative. This is either a brilliant piece of performance art … or you need your meds adjusted, my friend.

Reply to u/scepticbynature · 12h

Hahaha exactly! The amount of time and brain power OP has devoted to mapping this out is beyond obsessive. I don’t know whether to applaud the commitment to the bit or get them professional help.

u/amateurdetective · 10h

I’m sorry, did you actually read through the posts in question? The intersecting pieces of random, elaborate backstory between all three distinct voices is way too specific and layered for it to be an accidental alignment. There are unambiguous throughlines about:

A pair of feuding former childhood best friends

One hiring a woman off Facebook to pose as his fake GF and torment the other as revenge

Said fake relationship descending into a very real emotional entanglement for both parties

The eventual fallout of the ex-friend having to bear witnessing the real couple’s wedding and chaos that followed

Like that’s such a bizarrely specific plot keeping consistent across three different users’ lenses! So you’re either pointing out the artistry of someone doing an incredibly elaborate creative writing exercise across multiple subs … or these people are just leading unbelievably unhinged lives. And part of me hopes it’s the latter? It’s too batshit crazy not to be true!

Reply to u/amateurdetective · 9h

Or, and hear me out … it’s all an internal dialogue you’re having with your numerous Reddit personalities to work out your own unresolved relationship issues. We’re all just incredibly intricate fragments of your aching psyche!

u/opinionatedtruther · 7h

Lmao you are both nuts, but I have to side with OP on this one. The chances of these being all interconnected fabricated stories is way too perfect to be an accident. All the tiny threads and recurring backstories/character details woven between wildly different subreddit posts? That’s not a coincidence.

I could buy it maybe being some extended Reddit fanfic experiment between a couple of redditors seeing who can craft more engaging characters and drama while world-building off each other’s plot threads. Like a weird form of collabing through the confined lens of Reddit posts. It would be pretty genius if so.

But for it to be entirely real with all the coinciding details scattered across entirely unrelated posts like that? I’m sorry, but there’s just no way. That’s beyond the scope of believability for me. OP may be bungling the conspiracy, but they’re onto something for sure!

u/amateurdetective · 6h

THANK YOU, someone gets it! And to answer your other theory … while I can’t 100% rule out some sort of viral Reddit fanfic experiment, I struggle to believe even the most creative writers would be capable of improvising THAT intricately interconnected of a storyline stream-of-consciousness style like that.

Like each voice and perspective they inhabit remains remarkably consistent across such wildly different contexts (relationship drama, life events, ethical debates, and updates). It would take incredible skill to stay in the headspaces of these distinct individuals and keep their personalities/plot orbits from tangling into an incomprehensible mess. While possible, it seems incredibly unlikely.

That’s what has me believing there’s a remarkable kernel of stranger-than-fiction truth at the heart of this whole saga being teased out piece-by-piece. Or again … I’ve finally been gaslit into being a tin foil hatter of beautiful Reddit fantasies. Either way I’m here for it!

Reply to u/amateurdetective · 3h

All I have to say is please touch some grass and post to r/creativewriting instead 🙄

2K notes · View notes

dr-spencer-reids-queen · 3 months ago

Text

Not-So Secretive Rendezvous

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2k

Warnings: smut, fem!receiving, age gap

Request by anon: I'd love a Spencer X Fem Reader thing, say season 3-4 prince charming hair version ya know? That era is totally hot. Anyway, reader is Hotch's sister or Daughter, 10 year age gap between reader & Spence. I'm a total sucker for a forbidden, sneaking, secretive thing with them getting caught in a very compromising position. Hotch is fine with it but disappointed they didn't clear it with him. Maybe she works in the BAU but maybe not? Some hot spice with his awkward self. I always have a thought of him being so awkward around women in social situations like with JJ in the baseball game stuff, but with his Eidetic memory he definitely knows how to please women for sure. Any other details i'll leave you with free rein!

Summary: You and Spencer are a new couple that is hiding your relationship from the team for two reasons. Hotch is your dad and Spencer is ten years older than you are. That doesn’t stop you from being with him. Not your dad and certainly not an office full of people.

Square Filled: public sex/voyeurism (2021) for @cm-kinkbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

There are two reasons why you’re at the BAU--Spencer and Hotch. This is the place you want to work when you have the proper training and have done everything that’s required of you. You graduated high school before summer started and now you’re taking college classes with a degree in criminal justice while also getting in some hours at the police academy. It doesn’t hurt that your dad is the unit chief of the BAU, but you try not to let that affect how well you’re doing in and out of school.

The other reason is Spencer Reid. You two immediately hit it off when you first met and he’s been showing you around as much as he can without getting in trouble. He can’t tell you much about the cases the team has but he can give you advice and pointers for when you get a job here. Derek helps you with the physical stuff while Spencer is your own personal library book that just so happens to have all the answers you’re searching for.

After a few months of visiting your dad and the team, you and Spencer developed a relationship that only you two know about. Keeping your relationships a secret isn’t something you normally do because if you like someone, you’re all about showing them off to everyone. However, you and Spencer are ten years apart in age, and you don’t think your dad will appreciate his eighteen-year-old daughter hooking up with his twenty-eight-year-old subordinate.

It’s not a big deal to you and Spencer since you’re not newly eighteen. It’s September and you turned eighteen back in January. He’s been so good to you and is such a gentleman. He’s a romantic and loves taking you out on dates as much as he can. Your favorite date is when he puts a tent on the roof of his building, makes everything for a picnic, and you two spend the night stargazing there.

Unlike now when your visit is anything but romantic.

It’s been over a week since you’ve seen Spencer and you’re craving his touch. You’re not normally a sex-crazed teenager but you’re ovulating and you really need to feel his body on yours. You’re not ready for kids and you don’t know if or when you will be, so you’ll be using condoms because it’s a terrible time to get pregnant.

Not to mention your dad will quite literally kill Spencer.

“Hey, Y/N, what are you doing here?” Derek asks when he sees you.

“Just wanted to stop by to say hi. I hear the B Team is out right now so what better time to come?”

“Your dad is in his office.”

“Where’s Spencer.”

“Bathroom.”

“Okay, I’ll wait for him. Thanks.”

You turn to leave but Derek stops you.

“Hey, we’re still on for tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah, I’m ready to learn that new self-defense technique.”

You walk straight for Spencer’s desk only to walk right past it and toward the bathrooms. Derek smirks and shakes his head knowing you’re not here to see your dad at all. Spencer comes out of the bathroom with his phone in his hand so he doesn’t see you right away. You open the door to an empty office and wait for him to pass by it before grabbing his arm and pulling him inside.

“Wha--?” He looks up and smiles when he sees it’s you. “Hey, baby. I didn’t know you were coming today.” You close and lock the door before shutting the blinds so that no one can look inside. “What are you doing?”

“Come here.”

You pull Spencer in and kiss him without warning, and he grips your hips not too hard. He gets lost in the kiss before the alarm bells ring in his head.

“Wait, wait, wait.” Spencer pulls away from you but you’re not done kissing him. You back up into the desk and sit on it while kissing down his neck. “Not that I’m not happy to see you but we can’t do this here.”

“Why not? Don’t you want me?”

“Of course I do.”

“Then get me naked and fuck me.” It’s hard to think when all Spencer is thinking about is getting you naked. He’s not a sex machine who wants it all the time but it has been a week since he’s seen you, and the last case he went on was very stressful. “School has been stressing me out and I really just want some dirty sex with you.”

You don’t have to tell him twice. He spreads your legs and steps in between them before kissing you again. He runs his hands down your thighs and back up, only to slip them underneath your dress. You wanted to make sure you gave Spencer easy access. He expected to feel a barrier between his fingers and your pussy but there is none.

“You’re not wearing any panties?”

“I came here for one thing and one thing only,” you grin. “I wanted to make this easier for you.”

Spencer rolls his head back and cracks his neck before sinking to his knees. He’s not an expert in this department but he’s read enough books and watched enough amateur porn to know what he’s doing. He places a hand on your chest, pushes you down onto the desk, and bunches your dress around your waist.

“Remember, we’re at work and your dad’s office is right down the hall. You gotta be quiet.”

You’re about to respond when Spencer latches onto your clit. You slap a hand over your mouth to muffle the moan that slips out. It would be a disaster if your dad found out about this… or anyone. He kitten licks your clit and circles it before sliding his tongue down to your slit. He straightens his tongue and pushes inside of you, and his right-hand hooks up and over your leg so that he can rub your clit in hard fast circles.

“Fuck, Spencer, right there,” you gasp quietly.

“God, you taste so good,” he mumbles. “I can’t ever get enough.”

You reach down and slide your fingers into his hair before tugging on it gently. This is the exact reason why he’s been growing his hair out. He loves it when you tug on his hair. His mouth and fingers switch positions so that he’s sucking on your clit and sliding a finger into your tight hole. You squeal a bit loudly at the sudden change in pressure, and you bite down on your lower lip to prevent yourself from crying out again.

“Please, Spencer, I need more,” you moan.

He slides in another finger and curls them both so that he’s touching the spot that makes you see stars.

“Are you close?”

“Yes, fuck, yes.”

“Do you want to come?”

“Yes, please, Spencer,” you moan.

“Go ahead, darling.”

He gives a particularly hard suck on your clit that makes you come all over his face. He removes his fingers and laps up every drop you give him before standing to his full height.

“God, you’re so good at that.” You pull him down and kiss him, not minding that you can taste yourself on his lips. “I need to come again. I have a condom in the pocket of my dress.”

“You’re so needy,” he grins but doesn’t refuse you.

He pulls away and takes the condom you give him before unbuckling his pants. He’s always awkward at this part because he still can’t believe that he has someone who is interested in him like this. He’s not ripped like Derek or as confident as him but you like him because he’s none of those things. You love how socially awkward he is. You love his ramblings. You especially love it when he tells you random facts that have you questioning how he came to know that in the first place.

Spencer pulls his cock out and you almost salivate at the sight of it. You’ve given him blow jobs before but there will never be a time when you don’t want to suck him off. However this time, you just need him to be in you. He takes out the condom from the package and carefully rolls it onto his hard cock.

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Yes, Spencer, please. Just get in me.”

You spread your legs wider and allow him to step closer to you. He pumps himself twice before lining himself up at your entrance. You toss your head back and gasp at the one… three… seven inches of him until he is fully seated inside of you.

“Let me know when you’re ready,” Spencer groans.

“I’m ready. Please, Spencer,” you beg.

He doesn’t want to be too loud so he doesn’t fuck you as hard as he wants to. He starts at a normal pace before slowly picking up speed, and you’re trying to stop the moans from coming out but failing. He covers your mouth with his hand as if that will stop you from moaning his name.

It’s been a long and stressful time for you both so it doesn’t take long for the two of you to get close to the edge.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come.” Hearing Spencer swear when he normally doesn’t is so hot. He hates swearing since he has such a big range of vocabulary that he can use, but he can’t help it when you feel like Heaven. “Are you close?” You nod wordlessly since Spencer’s hand is still over your mouth. “Come with me. One.” Thrust. “Two.” Thrust. “Three.”

You explode all over him just as he fills the condom up. He rides out both your highs as much as he can before slowing down. He removes his hand and you gasp when you feel him start to pull out of you.

“I don’t know how you haven’t had more girlfriends before,” you laugh as you pant.

“It’s usually my incessant need to ramble that drives them away.”

He takes the condom off and ties it at the end before pocketing it., He doesn’t want anyone to find it in the trashcan so he’ll throw it out in the dumpster outside.

“Have you seen Y/N? I saw her come in earlier.”

You freeze when you hear your dad’s voice outside the office.

“I think she went to see Garcia. You should ask her,” Rossi responds from right by the door. You hear your dad walk away before Rossi knocks twice on the door. “You two aren’t very quiet or sneaky.”

“Shit, I should go,” you giggle. You fix your dress and Spencer tucks himself back into his pants. The room smells like sex but you’re sure it will air out by the time anyone else comes in here. “I love you and I can’t wait to see you on Sunday.”

You lean in and kiss Spencer before unlocking the door.

“I love you, too,” Spencer grins. “We should do this again sometime.”

“Oh, we definitely are.” You open the door and notice Rossi is in the break room. You make sure the coast is clear before leaving the office. You turn the corner and go crashing into your dad. “Daddy, hi. I was just looking for you. Someone said you wanted to see me?”

Hotch looks up and sees Spencer leave the office from which you just came out. He didn’t bother fixing his hair as much as he should have so it’s a big messed up from how much you were tugging on it, and your lipstick is a bit smudged from Spencer’s hand over your mouth.

Hotch isn’t an idiot.

“My office. Now.”

You look up to see him looking at someone behind you. You look back and see Spencer staring at Hotch with wide, fearful eyes.

“Daddy, listen--”

“Don’t you have a class to go study for? Reid, now.”

“Yes, sir,” he nods and scurries past you to get to his office.

“Daddy, I love him. Please don’t kill him. I’ll talk to you later.”

You leave before your dad can say anything else. Hotch isn’t mad that Spencer is seeing his daughter. He’s upset that you two hid it from him. He’s not gonna kill Spencer but it is sure going to be fun to watch him squirm because he thinks he is.

Want to be tagged? Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fictino #spencer reid fan fic #spencer reid fan fiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds angst #criminal minds fiction #criminal minds fan fiction #criminal minds fan fic

451 notes · View notes

peppermintquartz · 5 months ago

Text

"Tommy?"

"Yes?"

"Did you ever want to date Eddie?"

A little confused by the question, Tommy looks over his shoulder at Evan who's still kneading away the knots in Tommy's back. From his angle, Tommy can't really see Evan's expression.

With a sigh, Tommy flops back onto his forearms. "Why are you asking?"

"Answer me first."

"Never crossed my mind," says Tommy.

Evan's strong fingers dig into a particularly stubborn knot in Tommy's lower back and the latter groans in appreciation. "You flew him to Vegas to watch a fight."

"I flew you to the Grand Canyon to watch a sunrise," Tommy counters. It was to celebrate their three months together and the view had been breathtaking. They had to fly back by mid-morning - they both had work the next day - but it's clear that Tommy has a romantic soul and he's relishing in the free rein to unleash the full force of that romantic soul on his Evan.

"That's different," Evan argues without any heat. "We'd been dating three months by that time. You flew him to Vegas after two weeks of knowing him."

Sighing, Tommy pats Evan's knee, a signal for him to stop and get off Tommy's butt where he's perched. As he rolls over to look at his boyfriend, he wonders what is actually bothering Evan. The most logical thing to do is to ask him, so he does.

Evan scrunches his nose at the query. He's so adorable that Tommy wants to drag him down and kiss him silly, but this seems to be a matter that needs some consideration so Tommy waits.

"I guess... Well, Eddie's good-looking," says Evan, his pretty eyes downcast. "And he has more hobbies that you two share. And you have shared experience in the army. I guess I just... I don't know. Maybe I'm still a little jealous that you spent those first two weeks with him when Eddie and I got to know you at the same time."

"Hmm." Now Tommy has to pull Evan down to kiss him, because he's being silly. "Baby, I flew him to Vegas because that was how I was planning to go to Vegas that night anyway. I had a shift the next day and hell was I gonna drive all the way there and back just for one night." He kisses his boyfriend. "I was happy to invite Eddie along, but if he hadn't accepted the ticket I'd have flown solo anyway."

Evan exhales with a huff. "Okay. Fine."

"As to why I spent time with him first," Tommy continues, grinning widely as he turns Evan by the chin to face him, "he asked if we could hang out. You know, the way someone who isn't flustered by a crush might do?"

"I wasn't flustered!"

"Sure you weren't? Because I seem to remember things quite differently-"

Evan shuts up Tommy's tease and subsequent bark of laughter with a kiss. Tommy smiles into it and wraps his limbs around Evan, trapping the younger man in place.

When they part for breath, Tommy murmurs, "I have never once thought about dating Eddie. He is attractive, yes, but he's not the one I couldn't stop thinking about after the night of the rescue. His smile wasn't the smile I wanted to see up close. And he certainly isn't the one I want to hold like this and kiss, like this," Tommy demonstrates, "for the rest of my life."

Something in Evan's gaze relaxes, grows warm. "For the rest of your life?"

"Yeah. A little early to ask properly, perhaps, but yes. The rest of my life."

Evan takes a deep breath and burrows close. "Okay."

"That's it? Okay?"

"You want more, you gotta wait until you ask properly. But it's... I'm good with it." Evan pecks a light kiss to Tommy's lips. "The rest of our lives."

#evan buckley #tommy kinard #bucktommy #tevan #kinley #i meant to keep it light and teasing #but somehow they have to turn it sappy

678 notes · View notes

lizzieisright · 1 year ago

Text

My heart is thrilled by the still of your hand

power bottom!reader x subtop!Abby

Summary: Abby comes home agitated and asks for a different way to blow off her steam.

Tags: fingering (r and abby!receiving), oral(r!receiving), strap usage(r!receiving), tribbing, face sitting, Abby has to sit and watch as a punishment, light primal play(????), cumming untouched, Abby wears a collar, reader is a little bit of a pain slut, slight degradation (no name calling), begging.

wc: 6.3k

a/n: I was this 🤏 close to writing puppy play with werewolf alpha!abby, I swear

MINORS DON'T INTERACT I'll hunt you for sport

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Abby comes home from her usual “gym rats hangout” with twitchy fingers. You've learnt to notice those things because they signal the same thing to you: Abby is in the mood.

“Hey Abby.” You greet her from your place on the bed where you've been reading the book Abby recommended a week ago. “How did it go?”

“Pretty normal.” She answers and you note her higher than usual tone: she is not telling you the whole story. “I'm gonna go shower.”

You hum and go back to your book, giving Abby the space she needs when she lies to you about her feelings. She will come and talk eventually, so you're not anxious - Abby has a very complicated relationship with being emotionally vulnerable and you follow her pace in these moments, letting her come to you.

Abby takes a shower and comes back in her usual joggers and a muscle tee - you ogle her as a dutiful girlfriend should and she smirks at you.

“Nice to know I don't spend my time in the gym for nothing.” Abby chuckles and you nod, eyes following her movements until she finally collapses on top of you, putting her head on your tits.

Abby doesn't speak but starts to draw circles on your waist and you sigh from contentment: it's nice. Abby's hands always feel nice, and you tune yourself to her mood and relax, giving her the reins: restless Abby likes being in control, likes being busy and likes to take her mood out on you.

“Hey um- Can we try something?” This is not dom Abby's voice. Dom Abby is quiet and cold, concentrated, scary even. This Abby is soft and warm, which confuses you for a second as you come back out of your lazy bliss.

“What's up?”

“I got so pissed at these assholes today and I really want to not think about it.” She admits and you hum again, listening to her. “But I don't want to be in charge.”

You take a second to give Abby's words more precise form in your head. She is not in her usual subby mood, her hands are still gripping you tight, so she is not talking about subbing right now, but she doesn't want to have control...

“So you want me to dom you? But you want to top the whole time?” You finally say.

“Yes.” Abby looks at you with hopeful eyes. “Can we do this?”

You take a moment to think about it. You don't let Abby touch you when you dom her because she is usually in a subspace to escape her daily responsibilities and you decided long ago to spoil her, give her space to do nothing but be pretty. So right now your brain is trying to figure out how to get Abby into subspace by making her work. Ideas pop up in your head fast, and you smile at her.

“Come here.”

Abby climbs up and you weave your fingers through her unbraided hair, massaging her scalp before guiding her into the kiss.

It feels different, having Abby press you into the bed and still maintaining your control over her, but there's really no dominant bone in her body right now. Yes, her sculpted arms are caging your face on the sides, but her mouth is so fucking soft you can help but smile into the kiss.

“You want to fuck me, princess?” You whisper into her lips and Abby nods a few times. “Use your words.”

“Please let me fuck you.” Weak, weak little baby, you think as you caress her pink cheeks while she looks at you with big eyes. “Let me, please-”

“Bring me your collar.”

Abby's eyes glaze over for a second and she rushes to get the collar and give it to you so you can put it around her neck. You fasten it quite loosely, since you got into a habit of tugging on her collar and you don't want to hurt her.

“That's my good girl.” You tell her and Abby tries to kiss you, but you stop her roughly. “Who told you you can do that?”

“I'm sorry, ma'am.” She says, but you hear her impatience, her eagerness. “Can I kiss you, ma'am? Can I?” Abby's hands are twitching by your sides as she restrains herself from touching you.

“Oh baby.” You chuckle, amused. “Not yet.”

“Fuck.” Abby whispers to herself, desperate. “Sorry- I'll be good, I'll wait.”

This is interesting. You are so used to Abby giving you all the control, asking you to do something instead of asking if she could do something that it throws you off balance a little. But you take your time and take a breath, then tug on her collar and kiss her.

Well, you tease her: you make Abby chase your mouth, stopping her from crossing the distance when she almost touches your lips, and you can see a small frown forming. Oh, Abby is not happy with your game.

“Ma'am-” Abby growls and you smirk.

“Watch your tone or go sit and watch me touch myself.” The steel in your voice quickly puts an end to Abby's antics.

“Please, ma'am, let me touch you. I've missed you today.”

Abby's hands hover over your thighs and you take pity on her: you guide her hands to your hips and let her squeeze them.

Feeling Abby's hands on your body reminds you of a second reason why you don't let her touch you when you dom her: she just feels so good. Her strong fingers digging into your flesh make your thoughts go out of your head and you take another breath to collect yourself.

“You wanna kiss me, princess?”

“Yes, ma'am.” Abby rushes closer, a little bold, like an over excited hound who has zero discipline. She likes it, you realise. Abby likes the game, likes pushing on your buttons. She moves her face dangerously close, testing the limits, her breathing fanning your lips. You put a hand on her shoulder to stop her, and she listens, but watches you almost maniacally, tracking your every movement.

“Oh princess, you’re really impatient.” You say, amused. “If you want to kiss me, you’ll have to earn it.”

Abby nods.

“Of course, ma’am. I’ll do whatever you want.” Abby whispers feverishly as she kneads your thighs. “I’ll be good.”

Seeing Abby so desperate but so determined makes you wet in your pants: it’s a new, more delicious kind of power trip. Abby wants to be active and do everything, but your one light touch stops her. One light touch against 5 '10 built like a brick woman who can do whatever she wants with you if she decides to - it makes you dizzy, to have so much power when Abby is not giving up hers.

“Use this pretty mouth and make me cum, princess.” You order and Abby’s eyes go dark. She’d manhandle you usually, but right now she is looking at you, waiting for permission, even though her grip on your thighs is strong. You decide to drive her crazy even more and once again you move your face until you almost touch her lips with yours. “My good girl knows what I like, doesn’t she?”

“Yes ma’am.”

You lick the corner of her mouth and Abby tenses, restraining herself from kissing you. You move your lips to her ear, slightly touching it, and Abby’s hold gets tighter.

“Mark me.” You kiss her under her ear. “Bruise me.” You kiss her under her chin. “Hold me down.” You murmur in a low voice right into her ear and Abby growls, really growls.

“Please, ma’am.” Abby pleads and tentatively tugs on your waistband. “I’ll make you feel so good.”

You lift your hips up and Abby takes them off in a hurry, throwing them somewhere, not caring. You’re tempted to make her go and fold everything to tease her more, but you can’t ignore your own needs: your clit is pulsing, your skin is on fire, and you need Abby’s mouth on you.

“Can I take your shirt off too, ma’am?”

“Go ahead.”

Abby’s fingers are even shaking a little as she takes your shirt off, leaving you fully naked. Her eyes are devouring you, the obsession and lust overpowering her. She doesn’t waste any time and tugs on your thighs to get you comfortable before she buries her face in your cunt, but you tug on her hair in return, moving her head away.

“What did I tell you to do?” You ask her sternly. “Don’t think just because you get to touch me you can do what you want.”

Abby kisses your thigh apologetically, grazing it with her teeth, and you pet her head.

“That’s better.”

This is all Abby needs to latch onto your thigh and suck a bruise into your skin while you hiss and grip her hair tighter.

“Good.” You sigh, your voice breaking just a little when Abby moves to the other thigh and bites you, holds you between her teeth like a prey, sinking her canines to cause the pain she knows you like. “Yeah, good girl.”

Abby snakes her arms around your thighs and pins you to the bed - you know you won’t be able to move until she lets you, and it makes you roll your eyes from arousal.

Abby watches you as she licks her way between your folds, opening you up - your taste weaves the moan out of her and she puts her whole mouth on you, licking and rubbing your clit as you leak on her tongue and sigh so heavy, so pretty above her.

You look back at Abby and she looks absolutely fucking feral, her eyes trained on you like you're her prey, and you can only smirk at her tauntingly.

“Big bad wolf, aren't you?” You mock her and grip her hair to push her further into your pussy. “I might get a leash then.”

The grunt Abby lets out into your cunt and the hold getting tighter signals she likes the idea, and you chuckle before breaking into a moan as Abby doubles the effort and really eats you out. Her devilish tongue destroys you piece by piece, contrasting with the pain of her grip on you as she squeezes your thighs, spilling your flesh between her fingers.

“You're doing, uh- so good, baby, fuck-” You whimper for her and Abby's brows go up in a pleading manner, as if she silently begs you to cum for her. “Add your fingers.” You order her and Abby listens right away, pushing two fingers inside you. “Fuuuuck..”

“Can I make you cum, ma'am?” Abby asks in a low voice and you push her head back into your cunt.

“Yes-yes-yes-yes, fucking- give it to me, princess.”

There is a millisecond pause before Abby gets overpowered by her own desires, and then Abby's fingers start to curl inside you violently, almost lifting you up with the sheer force of each curl. Your moans get higher and higher until you're almost screaming on her fingers and her tongue as your orgasm builds up in geometrical progression, taking you out fully.

You cum, gripping into Abby's hair painfully, clamping down on Abby's fingers as she continues fucking you through your orgasm, lazily rubbing your clit on her flat tongue. You feel like you just exploded, fell apart and can't find your own pieces again after what Abby just did to you. Abby sucks another hickey into your thigh and you melt into the bed, feeling high.

“Can I get my kiss now, ma'am?” Abby asks, almost smirking at you.

“Spoiled little girl.” You murmur, but motion her to come closer. “Barely did her job and already asking for rewards.”

Abby whines quietly, her previous smug face turning into pleading one again.

“Ma'am-” She can't argue with you, you have all the power, but Abby is desperate. “I made you cum, I was good.” She begs and you chuckle, caressing her cheek, cleaning your cum from her chin.

“You fucked my brains out, princess.” You kiss her and Abby moans, turns into mush on top of you, opens her mouth for you, because hearing you say this almost makes her cum in her pants.

You make out for a while, your wet hot mouth on her soft, warm one, feeling each other with your tongues. You calm down from your high, but Abby just gets more restless. She needs her energy released, she needs to burn through it, and you know exactly how she can do it.

“Do you want to fuck me with your strap, babygirl?” You tease her, but Abby can only nod.

“Yes, ma'am.” She gets bold again and kisses your cheek. And then she grinds against you and you can't help your surprised chuckle when you feel the hardness in her pants.

“Oh, you naughty girl. You took it to the shower, didn't you?” You can't help your smile when Abby blushes, caught, hiding in your neck.

“Ma'am, I wanna fuck you so bad.” She admits into your ear and your clit throbs. “Wanna see you cum again.”

“You're so spoiled.” You scold her and tug her hair to make her look at you. “Straighten up.”

Abby sits up and you take her strap out of her pants, lining it up with your hole, and Abby, naive Abby, thinks she can just thrust into you, but you stop her with your other hand on her hip. Again, it's such a light touch, but it stops her immediately.

“No, you're just going to watch, greedy little girl. You're not pushing inside until I let you.”

Abby nods and can only helplessly watch you play with yourself using her cock. You run it up and down between your folds, smearing your slick, and Abby watches it glisten in the lowlights of your bedroom. God she wants to fuck you, she wants to make you scream and leak onto the bed, she wants to hear you whimper how good she is, how good she is making you feel, but instead she watches you nudge your clit with her dick.

You watch Abby's tortured face with a smirk, the soft silicone rubbing you just right.

“I can cum just like this, grinding against your cock, princess.” You tell her and Abby looks at you, genuinely terrified.

“Please, ma'am, I'll do so much better for you, I'll make you feel so much better.” She begs and you smile when her hips twitch.

The relief Abby feels when you nudge your hole with the head of her strap is downright religious. She looks at you, waiting for permission, her fingers lightly squeezing your thighs.

“Prove yourself, then.”

You both moan when Abby smoothly slides inside after you coated her dick with your slick. She watches you, how you arch, how your naked body reacts to her, how your tits spill to the sides and your nipples tighten. She sees the shiver cover your skin from how good she feels inside you, and Abby can't stop herself but to go as deep as she can in your pussy.

“You're beautiful, ma'am.” Abby sighs, her voice trickled in lust, as she thrusts into you slowly, her hips hitting the underside of your ass.

You moan and tug on her shirt so Abby would get closer, and then you push your fingers under her collar, wrapping them around it, and hold Abby down while she ruts into you, desperately grunting into your ear.

“So good f’me, princess.” You sigh and then moan when she thrusts into you so hard it makes you move up on the bed, knocking the air out of you. “Fu-ah-ck, shit, you're barely holding on, aren't you?” You tease her with your broken voice and Abby growls into your neck. “Look how you're fucking me, baby. Fucking look.” You growl in return.

Abby listens and tries to move away to see properly, but you only let her go as far as looking between your bodies since you still hold her by the collar.

“God, ma'am- you're so wet, fuck-” Abby sobs and fucks you hard and slow, hungrily watching her strap move in and out of you.

“You did it.” You say between your whimpers. “Like a good girl.”

Abby scrapes her teeth on your neck, desperate, but you tug her back so she continues watching fucking you while you moan and dig your nails into her shoulder.

“Ma’am, fuck, please-” Abby pants and looks up. “Can I go faster? Please, I'll be good for you, I'll fuck you so good, please.”

You pull her closer and kiss messily, feeling as feral as Abby looks right now, bite her bottom lip painfully and feel her hips snap into you in response.

“Go ahead, princess. Make me cum on your cock.” You pant into her mouth and Abby's eyes go dark.

“Thank you, ma'am.” She tells you in her scary fucking voice and you feel like the power shifts between you for this one second. She places both of her hands by your sides for stability, and you know this is it. You're going to be destroyed.

The first hard thrust makes you squeak and then there is no break: Abby's pace is unrelenting, her hips are strong and she uses it to her advantage, slamming into your pussy, going so deep on each thrust it becomes hard to breathe for you. You moan and whimper into her ear, scratching her shoulder when Abby hits the spot just right, but you keep holding her by the collar to make her remember who is in charge here.

“Fuck, unnnhhh, you're so good-” You tell her and Abby looks into your eyes like she can find a proof there, like the noises she fucks out of you is not enough.

“Thank you, ma'am.” She pants and buries her head into your neck, licking your skin with her whole tongue, lapping at your collarbones.

You feel animalistic, like both of you are stripped down to your instincts with all growls and grunts that leave both of your throats. Abby sucks on your skin and grabs your hip painfully, pinning you down so she can move even faster, harder, making your cunt squelch with how wet she gets you. You don't cling to her - you grip like a predator grips their prey in their claws, and the desire to hurt, the same desire Abby has in her, makes you dig your nails into her throat. Abby whimpers and gently bites your shoulder, licking her bite right away to soothe you, and she feels how your walls grip her strap, not letting her pull out easily, almost with a pop - you're close, you're so close Abby can't help but moan.

“Ma'am, would you cum for me? Please, please cum for me-” Abby says into your neck as her hips keep drilling into you: by this point she doesn't care how tight you are, she is going to keep fucking you until you cum.

“Fuck!” You sob, every movement of Abby's cock making you open up for her. “Fuck, baby- shit, keep going, yeah?” You feel like you are about to cry: it feels so intense, your legs start to shake in anticipation. “Holy shit-” You sob and Abby looks up at you, watching your now wet face with blown out eyes and an open mouth: you look like a god to her. “Baby-”

You squeeze your eyes shut from how much you feel as your orgasm bursts out, dragging you to the pits of hell with white hot pleasure and you can't help the scream ripping from your chest.

Abby moans involuntarily: seeing you like this while she is in subspace, while she is serving you, is goddamn holy. She feels how her own clit pulsates and the desperation takes over her.

“Ma'am, can I cum?” Abby asks you shyly while she is fucking you through your orgasm, but you barely register her voice, so overwhelmed.

“You better, princess.” You growl and then squeak as Abby gains her speed back.

The mess of whimpers and grunts gets louder as Abby approaches her orgasm while she is watching you cry from overstimulation, feels your fingers grip her throat, listens to the best sounds in her life and this all trips her over the edge. Abby ruts into you, chasing her orgasm, and moans into your shoulder when it finally hits her. Her hips erratically slam into you and you tug on her hair: the perfect mix of pain and pleasure makes Abby see stars.

You can't help the quiet moans that leave your throat on every exhale: you're still pulsating around Abby's strap, and Abby lies on top of you, making your sensitive skin feel her everywhere, even though she is fully clothed.

“Holy fuck.” You chuckle, surprised. “Are you okay, babygirl?”

Abby hums in agreement.

“Tired?” You are gentle now, smoothing Abby's hair out: you don't know her limits in this.. order of things, so you're being careful.

“No, ma'am.” Abby presses her forehead to yours and you smirk. “Whatever you want, I'll do it.”

“Yeah? Did it feel good to cum while you fucked me?”

“Yes, ma'am. You're so beautiful when you cum.” Abby looks into your eyes, needy, definitely waiting for something. “Can I kiss you, ma'am?”

You hum and pull Abby into the kiss and she gets bold, kissing you a little too aggressively than she is supposed to, but you let her - she deserves it. She shifts her hips and the strap presses inside you, making you gasp into her mouth. Abby gets excited and presses harder, but you stop her.

“What do you think you're doing?”

Abby just looks at you dumbly, caught in the act.

“Please.” That's all Abby can manage.

“Please what?” You hold Abby's chin between your fingers, making her look at you.

“I want to make you cum again.”

You pretend to think, but then you let Abby go.

“Take your clothes off.” You tell her.

Abby nods and slowly pulls out of you: you feel your hot slick dripping down your ass and it makes you smile - you like knowing how well Abby fucked you.

“You see this, princess?” You nod at her absolutely soaked strap. “You see how good you made me feel?”

Abby swallows, really tempted to lick the strap clean since it has your cum on it, but you asked her a question and she has to answer.

“Yes, ma'am.”

“I bet your pussy is drenched as well.” You smirk and Abby blushes while she takes her clothes off. “Come here, princess, and ride my clit.”

Abby freezes for a second, taken aback, so, “Colour?”

“Green.” Abby says in the husky voice and gets on top of you. She slots herself between your legs and- “Oh my God-” Abby gasps when she feels your hot wet cunt on herself. “Oh my god it feels so good.”

You pant as you look over Abby: her collar is loose around her neck, her hair sticks to her back and her eyes are so wide it is almost funny, and you'd have teased her for this, but Abby starts grinding on your clit and all thoughts leave your head.

Abby's legs and glutes are strong, meaning she moves fast and hard on top of you, bumping your clits together: she slides so smoothly since you're both soaked and you moan quietly, and the idea comes to you.

“You're not allowed to cum until I do, do you hear me?” You tell her as sternly as possible and Abby whimpers.

“Yes, ma'am.”

You smile at her, mean - you know between the two of you Abby always cums quicker, so you just set her up for failure. And Abby knows it as well, looking at you with pleading eyes and an open mouth as her moans leave her lungs - she hopes you'll be kind to her. But you won't.

You try to calm down your breathing and hold off your orgasm, even though Abby is moving perfectly: she is fast and her clit brushes over your clit just right. And then you feel how Abby sneakily tries to slow down.

“Are you tired, princess?” You ask with mock concern.

“No ma'am.”

“Then pick up the speed and make me cum.” You tell her with the steel in her voice.

“But ma'am, I'll cum.” Abby whines. “I wanna be good for you, please.”

“I told you, you don't get to cum until I do. Figure it out.”

You're being mean to her and Abby doesn't have a choice but to pick the speed again and try to not cum, even though she feels how close she is: she is already twitching when your clit touches hers just like she needs it, and it won't take long for her to fail you.

And Abby knows you are good at punishments, so she decides to do only one thing she can:

“Ma'am, please, I can't hold it any longer, please-” You frown and slap her thigh lightly, not pleased. “Please, I'll be good, please can I cum now, I'll do anything you want, I can't- It's too much-”

Abby is sobbing but keeps going, driving herself insane: she can't stop herself from cumming but she also can't stop moving without you punishing her and Abby feels her adrenaline going up at the thought of what you might do when she fails you.

“Don't even think about it, princess. I said no cumming.” You growl at her and Abby is done.

She keeps moving pathetically, riding out her orgasm and thinking you will forgive her if she just keeps going even though her clit is pulsing and her slick is dripping down on your pussy, her pace lost and erratic. You move up and grab her by her collar, letting her moan into your lips as you watch Abby ride out her high. You're pissed off and Abby gets the tingles - the fun ones when she is scared of you but she is also absolutely fucking thrilled about what is to come.

“Oh, this is a bad, princess.” You tell her coldly. You look so calm and collected while Abby is a mess. She can feel her lower stomach quivering from the aftershocks, her hair is stuck to her body and her face is fully red. “I didn't give you permission, did I?”

“No, ma'am. I'm sorry, ma'am.”

“Sorry is not gonna cut it.” You snarl. “You had the audacity to cum before I was satisfied.”

“I'm sorry, ma'am. Can I make you cum? I promise I will make you feel so good.” Abby pleads, but it's to no avail.

“No. You fucked up, you won't get to touch me until I let you. Go sit at the edge of the bed.”

If Abby could whine like a puppy, she would. But she listens and sits where you told her.

“Give me your strap.”

Abby perks up with a small hope as she passes you the harness: maybe you will let her fuck you again? Maybe, at least, she will get to lick your cum from the strap? Oh Abby would give anything to just taste you right now.

But you take the dildo out of the harness and spread your legs, showing Abby your soaked pussy.

“Hands behind your back and spread your thighs, don't even think about touching yourself. Bad girls only get to watch.”

Abby swallows and does as she is told and just watches as you drag the dildo between your folds, smearing it with your slick.

“You see this? Your cum is all over my cunt.” Oh fuck, Abby thinks. Oh no. She will have to- “Watch how I'm going to fuck it back in and make myself cum, since you were so busy being a brat.”

Abby whines. She can't help it - she is supposed to do it. It's her job to serve you, to please you and make you feel good, and you took it away to punish her.

“Yeah, I bet it felt nice, not listening to me.” You murmur and moan when you push the dildo inside. Abby watches how it stretches you and her fists tighten, it is supposed to be her. “Can't wait to have your cum inside me, princess. The only good thing from this.” You scoff.

Abby bites her lip to cope with what she is seeing; you pull out and rub the strap on your pussy to collect the slick on her strap just to push back in. Her cum is in you. This thought makes Abby dizzy and desperate: she really considers not listening to this order as well and just- just touch you and taste you.

“Your cock feels so good.” You taunt her and Abby whimpers.

“Ma'am, please! Let me do it, I'll make you cum, please-”

“Quiet.” You bark at her and Abby listens. “You don't get to ask for anything. Be grateful you get to watch.”

“Thank you, ma'am.” Abby says in a small voice and quiets down.

You relax and continue playing with yourself as if Abby is not even here - you're concentrated on your own needs right now, fucking yourself with the dildo, feeling how it rubs all over your walls, and it's not enough now. So you lick two of your fingers and put them on your clit, rubbing and flicking it the way you like, moaning when you feel yourself tighten around the strap.

Abby is going to cry, she thinks: everything you're doing now is torturing her. She needs to be the one who fucks you and plays with your clit, it's her job. There are red crescents on her palms from how hard she is digging her nails into her flesh, and she is leaking on the bed, because you're so fucking hot. Abby can't take her eyes off you, off your perfect pussy with her cock inside, off your pretty face contorted in pleasure.

“You're beautiful, ma'am.” Abby blurts out, not controlling herself.

“Yeah?” You smirk.

“Yes, ma'am.”

You like it when Abby compliments you, but she is being punished, so you don't give her a chance to redeem herself. You start rubbing your clit faster, feeling your orgasm approaching, and Abby whimpers again: she can see it as well. She wants to beg you again, she needs to make you cum, but Abby also needs to be good, so she stays quiet and doesn't look away. Your thighs start twitching and your moans get louder now, and Abby can't sit still anymore; she almost bounces on the bed, trying to cope with the fact that you're going to cum without her.

“Fuck, it feels so good.” You taunt her again, knowing how much it upsets her. “Oh, I'm going to cum-” You whimper when you feel the first wave of orgasm washing over you before the whole tsunami of pleasure.

Abby is panting, her mind is empty, and she watches you again like a predator, feral eyes trained on your face: you look so good when you cum.

Tsunami hits you and you moan deeply, frozen in place as your cunt pulsates around Abby's strap. Abby doesn't even breathe, waiting for you to come down from your high. She tries her best to be good and patient for you, and you notice it. Abby is damn near tears, but she is still sitting like you told her to, and she is being quiet as well, waiting for you. You feel like this is enough for her and motion her to come to you when your high subsides.

Abby is super fast as she climbs on top of you, getting comfortable between your legs again.

“Hi, baby.” You tell her in a sweet voice and Abby buries her nose in your neck, squeezing you in her arms. “You did so well, sat through your punishment like a champ.”

“Thank you, ma'am.”

“Do you want to stop?”

Abby looks borderline hurt at your suggestion, and you laugh kindly.

“I’ll take it as a no.” You caress her cheek gently. “Well, since you’ve been so good, I suppose you can choose how you want to fuck me, princess.”

Abby moans at your words - she is so greedy she can’t pick an option right away, she can’t believe her luck!

“Sit on my face.” Abby says in a low voice that faintly reminds you of her dominant side, but she quickly remembers her place. “Please.”

“Lie down.”

Abby listens and watches impatiently how you get up and swing your thigh over her chest, your soaked pussy so close to her face she feels how her own cunt pushes more slick onto the sheets.

“Hold me down and leave bruises.” You gasp when Abby immediately wraps her strong arms around your thighs and pulls you down, making you sit on her face. “Good girl.”

Abby moans into your pussy and opens her mouth wide, as if she is really trying to eat you, and you relax in her grip - the pain from her fingers digging into your hips is mixed with the pleasure from her soft flat tongue and you feel amazing. And Abby is so eager, she eats you out feverishly, watching your every movement. Abby needs to make you cum, to hear you choke on your own moans, but right now you only make these quiet breathy moans - so she sucks on your clit and you twitch, overstimulated. Abby grins into your pussy and you frown.

“Oh, you wanna play games, princess?”

And then it’s Abby’s turn to twitch because you push two fingers into her and curl them.

“Don’t you dare to cum before me again.” You growl at her and Abby mewls pathetically, tugging you even harder, pinching your thighs when you curl your fingers and hit her sweet spot. You whimper, getting high on pain-pleasure equilibrium, and all hell breaks loose.

Both of you can’t stop your moans, and everything becomes a chain reaction where you fuck your fingers into Abby and Abby drags her tongue over your clit, sucking and rubbing it while her hands try to break your bones with the force she is holding you down. Your thighs are suffocating her, but she is in heaven: you’re all around her, all she smells, tastes, feels and hears - it’s only you. This is how it is supposed to be: Abby under you, serving you, making you feel good like no one, not even you, can.

“Fuck, baby, just like that-” You choke on your moan and Abby moves her hands to your hip junctions, keeping you in one place as her tongue fucks you like you need her to. “Yes, princess.” You hiss and buck your hips into her mouth, but the iron grip she has on you doesn’t let you.

You keep curling your fingers inside her and Abby closes her thighs around your hand, trying her best to concentrate on you and not cum before you do, but your pace doesn’t falter even when your voice breaks and your hips twitch. Abby concentrates on your puffy, warm cunt and listens to your moans - but it seems to only work against her, spiking her arousal even more, bringing her closer to the inevitable.

“You are tightening on me.” You smirk and thumb at her clit, making Abby’s hips jump. “You’re gonna cum when I cum.” You manage to tell her and then there are only moans and whimpers as Abby sucks your clit.

And then she gently grazes her teeth over it and your climax hits you suddenly; Abby eases her grip on you, letting you ride her tongue while you moan and whine for her. You feel how her cunt sucks your fingers in and Abby is such a mess now, cumming on your fingers while you use her face to prolong your orgasm.

“Good girl.” You whimper and sit on her chest, looking at Abby’s red wet face as she keeps moaning. “Came with me like I told you to, good fucking girl.”

You take your fingers out and Abby makes eye contact with you when you suck your fingers clean.

“Oh god-” Abby sighs pathetically. “Fuck, ma’am.”

You chuckle, still riding your high, but you find your strength to move and lie next to Abby, petting her head gently with your shaking hand.

“You want to cuddle, princess?”

“I wanna hold you.” You are surprised, but you go back on top of her and Abby wraps her arms around you, caressing your back. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, princess.” You gently kiss her shoulder and then her cheek. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired. High.” Abby chuckles. “Thank you. It was amazing.”

“You did amazing, baby. I’m proud of you.” You kiss Abby gently, feeling her whole mouth, trying to show her all the love you have for her.

“You got so pissed at me.” Abby grins and you roll your eyes with a smile.

"Was it too much?"

"I think if you want to punish me again like this, you'll have to tie me down. I almost broke, wanted to fuck you so bad." Abby murmurs and you kiss the marks on her throat. "Does anything hurt?"

You're surprised once again - usually you ask this question, but given the circumstances...

"Deliciously." You murmur into Abby's lips and kiss her again.

"We need to get a leash." Abby says suddenly and you snort.

"Yeah, we do."

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson smut #sub!abby #abby anderson

1K notes · View notes

wilwheaton · 8 months ago

Note

what are your hobbies?

I have a garden that I love to work in every day.

During the lockdowns, I learned the difference between having a garden, and tending a garden. It turns out that I just love to tend my garden. I love to walk in it, smell all the smells, prune it and tie it up where it needs it, keep the soil healthy, and leave it alone when I've done enough.

In a lot of ways, I use my gardening time as a metaphor. One that was particularly meaningful to me lately came when I was pruning this feral tomato that showed up in one of my beds late last year. As a general rule, when I get any volunteers, I leave them alone, except to keep them away from things I've planted myself. But in this case, it was growing so fast and getting so out of control, I had to rein it in a bit, with some pruning and gentle redirection of the parts which were tied to the trellis.

I started thinking about the individual stalks as parts of my life experience: here's one that doesn't have anything growing on it, but if I follow it all the way to this point, I can see that it's providing support and nutrients to this huge, thriving, massively flowering hunk of the plant. It turns out that part may look like it isn't doing anything, but without it, this other part that's gorgeous wouldn't exist.

I could have just looked at it and seen a stalk that wasn't doing anything. I could have easily pruned it right then and there, and only after would I have discovered this lush, thriving, beautiful part of the plant that can't exist without this other part. I was so grateful that I took the time to look at the whole thing, to see that bare stem in context, to appreciate it.

I don't know if this particular metaphor lands on you, but it landed real hard on me. It inspired a wonderful moment of reflection and gratitude, and I also got excited for the ... I mean, it's at least a dozen, but maybe more ... little cherry tomatoes I'm going to get when they finish ripening.

I have recently noticed that, as long as I can remember, I have felt like I can't slow down, like I can't take time for myself, that I should always be working or trying to work. I've been working on healing as much of my CPTSD as I can, and part of that includes doing my best to give myself permission to slow down, to take entire days or even weeks off, because I have earned it. It's such a struggle for me.

And that's where my garden is a metaphor again: it may not be full of blooming flowers or tons of vegetables right now, but that doesn't mean it isn't growing. Maybe it needs to be watered and fed today, and tomorrow, I can just walk through it, and enjoy it.

It's one of my very few hobbies that are mostly private, that I keep for myself. I freely and enthusiastically share my love for classic arcade gaming, Tabletop and RPG games, and all my super nerd shit, so I like that I have this one thing that's just for me.

492 notes · View notes

angelwings-crossbowstrings · 9 months ago

Note

Since you said you were looking at requests could you please do something with Dom Daryl with overstimulation, breeding, and cockwarming? Maybe after the savior war trying to get pregnant or any later seasons Daryl? It’s almost 6:30 in the morning so those are just the prompts that came to me first, anything you write with them will be wonderful, thank you 🩷

If I get a Little Prettier, Can I be Your Baby?

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Alexandria (post Savior's War)

Warnings: Poorly written smut; p in v; cockwarming; forced orgasms; overstimulation; a hint of breeding, I guess? A/N: This request has been sitting in my inbox for weeks. Gods, I am so sorry for making you wait! I'm even more sorry that I was all over the place with this so I hope it's just good at all. I tried, Anon! I promise!

“S’the matter? Thought ya wanted this?”

Daryl was sitting against the headboard, just as bare as you. You straddled his hips, stretched around his cock and had been for—well, you weren’t sure. He had kept you there, softening slightly every once in a while only to press a thumb against your swollen clit to quickly bring you to orgasm. Your convulsing walls brought him to fully hard within seconds. You’d lost count of how many times he’d done it, sometimes not even needing the stimulation. He would be throbbing with just as much need inside of you and still worked at you until you came, shuddering and whimpering his name like a mantra.

“Please, Daryl, I need—”

“Ya need to sit there ‘til I say diff’rent.” His voice was low, gravelly. Stern, even. You felt your cunt clench and his hips jerk. You were so sensitive, yet still craving him. He could work miracles with those fingers but being so full and stretched without feeling him drag along your inner walls was torture. He wasn’t cruel, never. There was a safe word in place, always, no matter who held the reins. Whether out of sheer stubbornness or overwhelming desire, neither of you had ever used it.

“Yes, sir.” You breathed. Your fingers were splayed over his stomach, his muscles twitching with each miniscule movement you made, though you tried to sit stone still.

The battle with the Saviors had been won. Negan was imprisoned. Alexandria was being rebuilt. Everyone was working together and there was, for at least the time being, a feeling of relative peace and safety. While you had never officially married, you had become Mrs. Dixon in every way except on paper, and that didn’t seem to matter much in those days. You and Daryl had talked about a family before, but always seemed to find some reason to deny yourselves. His worries of becoming his father, Wolves, Saviors, and of course, the dead. There was always something.

It wasn’t until Daryl had been locked in Negan’s cell that he came to realize that waiting was futile. The world would never be safe. If you wanted to have children with him, he loved you enough to travel that road with you. He’d love his children because they were a part of both of you.

This? This was the first session in what would be many “practice runs.” Or maybe one time would be all it would take.

“You’re bein’ such a good girl. Wanna cum for me again?” He smirked, tucking your hair behind your ear and letting that finger carve a trail down over your collarbone, circling your left breast before he pinched and rolled your nipple. You gasped and arched your chest toward him, making him hiss when your hips shifted.

“S—sorry, sir.” You gasped, breathing heavily from just that slight stimulation. If he fucked you now, you feared you’d cum so quickly that it’d be embarrassing. From the twinkle in his eye, it didn’t seem like you were going to have a choice. You let out a squeak as he flipped you to your back, never separating from you but punching a moan from you both with the slight friction.

“Think I’ve had enough’a toyin’ around. How ‘bout we get to work on puttin’ a baby in that belly?” Pressing his mouth to yours in a sloppy kiss, a dance of tongues and teeth, he hooked the back of your right knee over the crook of his elbow and rolled his hips. You pulled back from him, lest you bite his lip, which he’d honestly probably rather enjoy. Another deep thrust saw your hips rising to meet his. He didn’t stop you or reprimand you, so it was safe to say this was all about the endgame.

“Fuck, you feel good.” You whined with your nails scratching over his shoulders, red marks all the way to where you settled your hands on his ribs.

“Yeah?” He knew the answer, even if he did make the next snap of his hips a little rougher. Raising your head, you nuzzled your cheek against his and placed your mouth against his ear.

“Don’t hold back.” You whispered, licking the lobe and then the spot where his pulse raced. Daryl growled, letting your leg drop. When he reached up to grab the top of the headboard with one hand and then the other, you knew you were about to get absolutely ruined.

And couldn’t have been more turned on by the thought.

With a smirk of your own, you chose to let your legs fall open as wide as they could, almost to the point of painful. You were soon digging your nails right into his buttocks. It started with a cadence of rough snaps, his pelvic bone and the coarse hair above his cock slapping against your oversensitive clit. He chuckled above you, knowing exactly why you were making those sinful little noises. Your humiliatingly slick cunt squelched with each push and pull of his cock, only adding to the debauchery that could potentially be heard by the others in the house.

You only dug your fingers in harder, drawing up your knees but keeping your legs wide open. “Come on, Dixon.” You panted, biting back a cry when the next thrust made you see stars. “I thought you wanted to fuck a baby into me. Put in a little effort.”

It was that moment, you knew you had fucked up.

Daryl went motionless, looking down at you through that curtain of sweaty, dark hair. He had one brow arched. He never let go of the headboard but leaned down between his arms until he was nose to nose with you, the most deliciously wicked smirk lifting one corner of his mouth.

“Ya better hold on tight, Sunshine.”

The first thrust shunted you straight up to the headboard, one hand releasing its hold on his ass to slap palm down against the wood and protect the top of your head. And then he was absolutely ruthless. Fucking feral. He used his hold on the headboard as leverage and fucked you at a pace you’d never experienced. Soon, you had let go of him altogether, both palms planted firmly against the smooth surface above you. You couldn’t stop shouting long enough to even let him know you were cumming. Once, twice. A third sparking to life low in your belly. His grunts and groans above you were just fucking delectable and you distantly wished you could focus on the sounds your pussy was coaxing out of him but the feeling of him just absolutely splitting you in two took precedence.

“‘Nough effort for ya?” He panted, slowing only slightly, just enough for you to see him scanning you for any signs that you wanted to stop, that you needed to use the safeword. You scoffed at him. However, you couldn’t seem to speak, so close to yet another orgasm. You saw his grip loosen, knew he was getting concerned, so you communicated your consent by flattening your feet on the mattress and rolling your hips up to take him deeper, both of you groaning. He worked his way back to the same brutal pace, his cock swelling and twitching inside of you. He was close.

You were closer.

Drawing in enough breath, somehow assembling enough presence of mind, you moaned out “I’m—I’m close—Please—”

Daryl grunted, dropping down from the headboard with a hand on either side of your head. “Let go, Sunshine.” He commanded through gritted teeth. “Fuck, m’gonna cum.” You had just felt the first tendrils of pleasure rip from your core when he thrust twice more, stilling against you and holding himself deep with a guttural moan, his muscles spasming and body trembling. “Fuck!” You were too lost on whatever cloud he’d sent you to, your eyes rolled back and mouth agape. Your chest was arched into him until you felt the burn in your muscles suddenly dissipate and you collapsed to the mattress, his name falling from your lips like a mantra.

Daryl was still thrusting into you lazily, dragging out both of your orgasms until you just couldn’t take anymore and twisted your hips to the side with a whine. He let you lie down flat again before gently, slowly pulling out of you, barely moving himself over before he collapsed into a trembling heap. You could feel his cum leaking out of you, burning as it slid across the flesh of your abused cunt.

It never failed that no matter how fucked out he was himself, your well-being came first. Rolling his head toward you, he gave you a once over. “Y’alright? Did I hurtcha? Ya didn’t say—”

“I’m so good that I don’t think I’m ever coming back down to earth, thanks.” You blinked lazily at the ceiling before turning your head, letting it lull toward him to meet his eyes with a lopsided smile. “My god, Daryl Dixon, you just rocked my world.”

God, you loved it when he blushed. He could be an absolute beast in bed—as he had just proven—and then go red as a tomato—as he currently was. Licking his lips slowly, he turned to admire the ceiling at the same time you did.

“I’ll get up in a minute an’ get us cleaned up.” He was finally starting to sound like he had found his lungs and put them back in their rightful place. You lazily waved a hand. “Are ya really alright?”

You nodded, smiling stupidly once again. “I may not walk right for a few days.” You moved with a wince. “In fact, when you get up to get that towel, can you grab me a wheelchair? I think you dislocated my vagina.”

Daryl, of course, looked mortified. “Oh, come on. I’m fine. Just a little sore.” Propping up on your elbows, you grinned at him. “Besides, payback’s a bitch and next time, it’s my turn.” He mumbled christ under his breath and rolled off the bed, staggering toward the bathroom while you stared intently at the perfect round of his ass. “I’ll find the blindfold and handcuffs tomorrow!”

#murda writes #daryl dixon #daryl dixon request #anon request #daryl dixon x reader #the walking dead #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #the walking dead daryl dixon #daryl #daryl dixon twd #daryl dixon the walking dead #daryl x female reader #daryl dixon x female reader

955 notes · View notes

fawnsflowerbed · 2 months ago

Text

MDNI!!! AGAIN!!!!

Umm I'm thinking about Vendetta Leon with his puppy/bunny hybrid for this one but it could also just be a regular ol’ AFAB fem reader and YES, IT IS ANOTHER ASMR PORN THING because I can't get it out of my head leave me alone...

UHH CONTENT WARNING FOR ESTABLISHED CONSENSUAL SLEEP-PLAY!!!! This audio specifically from Whorosethinks (love him) gives me SUCH vibes like

Imagining it’s a lazy Sunday morning, and Leon's body is instinctively waking him up early since he's so used to doing it for his old assignments. But then he settles in and realises oh yeah shit it's still the weekend, so he chills out, tossing over only to see you. Oh, you. All soft snores and little twitching nose, your tail wiggling ever so slightly. He loves you so dearly, cherishes you, kisses the ground you walk on for Christ's sake. Railing that perfect pussy is just an added bonus.

But fuck, the position you've decided to flop into. Half on your tummy, one leg tossed over so your pert ass is up and those thighs are parted. It's not Leon's fault that he's got morning wood, it's not Leon's fault that you're dressed in nothing but one of his t-shirts and some skimpy underwear so from this angle has the perfect view of your cunt soaking through the thin fabric. He swallows hard. He might also be a little hungover, that's definitely not helping.

You've already talked this out together, and you'd made it clear in the past that if you wanted dear old owner to bury himself in your cunt even if you're asleep you'll wear a specific colour of panties. So, of course, he gets a closer look through the haze of the early morning.

There it is. Navy blue. Just like his work shirt. All pretty and lacy. He has free rein.

So of course he takes a thick finger to slide the frills to the side, slick coating the digit as he gently handles you. Of course he splays a careful hand over your back as he fumbles to lazily pull down his sweatpants, bare chest heaving as he stares at your twitching hole like he's been fucking hypnotised. He's slow, easing his rock hard dick into you inch by inch, watching that adorable nose wrinkle at the feeling of being stretched and filled by your beloved owner's cock. And god you feel so good, hot and wet, he has to take a second to collect himself.

Shaky hands stabilised on each side of your head, it doesn't take him too long to start gently fucking into you with long, slow strokes, stoking the ache in his guts with every push and pull through the velvet of your heat. He furrows his eyebrows, groaning deep from his chest, losing himself in you to the point of readjustment. He settles you fully onto your stomach, elbows bracketting you and chest to your back, cuddlefucking your sleeping form into the mattress with every clench and twitch of your insides. It should be illegal for someone's pussy to be this good, right? But he loves you, so he tries to be soft, even if he does slowly ramp up a little quicker, a little harder, a little deeper, you've got him panting like he's run a marathon.

So when you stir in your sleep, nose twitching and tail wiggling, giving that broken sleepy whimper of "Daddy?" that he loves so much all Leon can do is shush you. Leaning forward to nudge his face nice and close to your ear, whispering soothingly. "Shh, stay still baby. Daddy just needs to use his pet's perfect cunt." And ever the loyal and loving thing you are you obey with a squeaky whimper, melting into the pillows beneath him. Oh, he adores you. So compliant.

He's groaning, bordering on whiny at the way you simply let him use you, watching you adorably paw at the headboard. Every sweet tired mewl and gasp of yours against the frilled trim of the pillows. You're everything to him, taking him to the hilt, balls deep, even as he gently pins your arms behind your back so he can pronebone you good and deep into the duvet. Even as he picks up the pace, dragging his cock over every ridge of your pussy. The feeling of your hole sucking down on him like you're trying to rip his dick clean off is driving his brain to insanity, making him go dizzy. But watching your eyes flutter shut and tail wag and twitch as he dicks you down good and deep is probably the best thing in the world.

Well, a close second.

The best thing is definitely getting to creampie your cunt, watching you go rigid with perked ears and a high pitched, broken moan from your throat, how you fall to a slack pile of syrupy love stuffed full of his cum, that's definitely in first place.

And then there's the question of where this lies; what he's doing right now, peppering soft kisses across your cheeks, rubbing stubble against your face as he tugs your panties back into place. Cuddling you close with soothing words and soft back rubs until you both pass back out for another hour or so.

Eh. That sits somewhere between first and second. He's just a man, after all.

294 notes · View notes

mydearestbeloved · 2 months ago

Text

Chapter 16 [Draft]

Sung Jinwoo/Trial Player!Reader

CW:

Inspired by @circeyoru ‘s “Future Power Couple”

[Masterlist🦋✨️]

You needed to rein in your anger for now. Jinwoo needed to defeat Baran as quickly as possible to obtain the ingredients necessary to cure his mother. Even though he might not yet know whether it would work, you did. The future you knew was enough to justify setting aside… whatever this was for the time being.

It was clear that Jinwoo wanted your support; otherwise, he would have already gone to the Demon Castle. You should have convinced him to go solo. According to the story, he’d be fine. Your interference might bring troublesome consequences, yet you wanted to help him—perhaps selfishly this time.

You still blamed yourself for what happened to his mother. You knew her eternal slumber was meant to drive Jinwoo to grow stronger. But you had the power to prevent it, to cure her, and yet—

At one point, you unconsciously began to feel that helping him was a way of making amends—for your helplessness, for things out of your control. Not just his mother [Why do you blame yourself?] but also for not arriving sooner from the garden. For being too late to save his father, even if the system might have stopped you anyway. You could have tried. Yet you were too late [it’s not your fault]. Too late to save his father. Too late to help the people devastated by Kamish.

[It was out of your control.]

---

The garden was as serene as ever, a tranquil oasis filled with blooming flowers and butterflies flitting through the air. The soft hum of nature provided a soothing backdrop, yet the tension inside you was anything but calm. You sat at your usual spot by the gazebo, sipping tea from a delicate cup, waiting for him to arrive via the invitation you’d sent with your butterflies.

When Jinwoo stepped into your domain, the portal sealed behind him.

Was it just you, or did he look more haggard than usual? Was it because of your… disagreement? He shouldn’t care that much about you. You needed to be sure of that. Otherwise… you didn’t know what would happen to this story.

"(Name), I'm sorry—" Jinwoo began, his voice tentative, but you cut him off with a raised hand.

"Sit," you said simply, taking another sip of tea. Your tone was measured, calm, but there was no room for argument.

To his credit—or perhaps his detriment—Jinwoo sat immediately, like an obedient dog, responding to its master’s command.

You laughed, and he flinched, thinking he’d done something wrong again. But you laughed because of the irony. Here sat the soon-to-be strongest man in the world, obeying you like a lost puppy. You didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, feel exhilarated, uneasy, or all of the above.

It was both endearing and unsettling.

You needed to address this situation—quickly.

But for now, Jinwoo needed to focus.

"Let’s set that aside for now," you said, waving off his attempt at an apology. You noticed him opening his mouth again, perhaps to protest, but one sharp look from you silenced him effectively. Lovely.

At least he listens when it matters.

"You need to return to the Demon Castle to gather the final material for crafting the Holy Water of Life, correct?"

"Y-yeah," Jinwoo stammered, caught off guard by your directness.

"Then why are you still here?" Your voice held a firm edge. Why hadn’t he already gone? He didn’t need you for this, not really.

"I—" Jinwoo faltered, the words dying in his throat. He was going to ask you to accompany him, but why? Why didn’t he use this time to leave, to step away from your anger? He couldn’t admit it, not even to himself, but leaving without resolving things with you felt… wrong.

Running away from this felt wrong.

You sighed, leaning back in your chair. The tea in your cup swirled as you tilted it slightly, your thoughts as restless as the liquid. "I’ll help you," you said at last, the words measured but sincere. "Though I’m not sure how much help I’ll actually be. Just give me time to prepare.”

He clearly hadn’t expected that. “You don’t have to—”

"I don’t," you interjected, cutting him off once more. Your gaze softened as you set the teacup down and folded your hands on the table. "But I want to. Let’s just leave it at that."

Oh.

Jinwoo felt an odd sense of déjà vu. It reminded him of the past, back when he was weakest. When he didn’t know anything about his mysterious benefactor. When he didn’t know you.

Thank you. He wanted to say it, but it didn’t feel like enough. It never did.

You took his silence as agreement, your lips curving into a faint smile despite yourself.

---

The silence stretched on, the air heavy with unspoken tension. Jinwoo fidgeted slightly.

“I—” Jinwoo hesitated. Should he bring up that dinner? No. It wasn’t the right time, not when you were setting your fight aside for his sake.

“Hm?” you prompted.

“…Can you train Tusk?” Jinwoo blurted out, summoning the High Orc Shaman before he could stop himself. The towering figure of Tusk knelt immediately, his glowing eyes filled with both reverence and curiosity as he regarded you, and… confused by his nervous master.

You arched a brow, eyeing the orc, setting down your teacup with a soft clink.

Jinwoo scratched the back of his neck. “He’s good at casting spells—” He winced at his poor wording. “I… I thought he could learn a thing or two from you—”

You moved, and Jinwoo stiffened. Standing from your seat, you approached the kneeling Tusk, your footsteps soft against the gazebo’s stone floor. Tusk, to his credit, remained perfectly still, though his glowing eyes followed your every move.

Reaching out, you placed a hand gently atop his head, patting him lightly.

The orc blinked. Jinwoo blinked.

"Alright," you said simply.

You smiled—a genuine smile that Jinwoo hadn’t seen in days.

It was meant for Tusk, sure, but his shadows were an extension of himself. And Jinwoo… Jinwoo clung to that small glimmer of hope.

---

“Enchanting equipment?” you asked, your voice cool and composed.

“Yes.” Jinwoo nodded, carefully pulling two items from his inventory. “A few days ago, I bought some gear in preparation to return to the Demon Castle.” He handed you the wind-attribute robe and the nameless ring imbued with a water-attribute.

You regarded the items with a practiced eye, fingers grazing the surface of the robe before both pieces floated midair, enveloped in your signature silver aura. Jinwoo watched as your shoulders relaxed, your eyes fluttering closed.

His gaze remained fixed as your butterflies began to swirl, seamlessly merging with your aura as they danced around the equipment. Your hair swayed gently with the magical currents, and for a moment, Jinwoo was captivated.

The light flared momentarily before dispersing, the butterflies scattering back into the garden. The robe and ring floated down gently into your open hand. Without a word, you handed them back to Jinwoo.

Out of curiosity, he activated the system to inspect their stats, and his eyes widened in shock. The equipment’s overall defense had tripled. Not doubled—tripled!

The robe’s magic resistance and affinity were leagues beyond its original state, and the ring now pulsed with latent power, its water attribute refined into something far more potent. Even the overall quality of the items had improved dramatically.

“You’re… you’re really amazing,” Jinwoo said, awe dripping from his tone as he examined the equipment.

You hummed in acknowledgment, though your focus had already shifted to your butterflies, idly letting them land on your fingers and shoulders.

You still weren’t looking at him.

Oh right. Jinwoo’s expression faltered as the realization hit. You were still giving him the silent treatment.

From the corner of your eye, you could see Jinwoo’s reaction—his head tilted down, his shoulders slightly slumped, his lips pressed into a tight line. He looked like a dejected puppy, an image made even more comical by his flickering gaze, which kept darting to you as if waiting for some kind of acknowledgment.

Your butterflies noticed, fluttering inquisitively toward Jinwoo before retreating back to you. Jinwoo’s shadows, peeking through the faint dark mist at his feet, mimicked the butterflies with exaggerated shrugs, clearly as lost as he was about what to do.

You didn’t react.

---

Yeesh.

Jinho shifted uncomfortably in the driver’s seat, glancing between the two of you as the car sped down the road. The silence inside was suffocating—not quite as unbearable as the last time he’d seen the two of you together, but still tense enough to make him itch for some form of normalcy.

His Unnie sat by the window, her head resting lightly against the glass, staring at the passing scenery. She hadn’t said a word since they left. His Hyung, seated in the opposite side of the passenger seat from her, occasionally flicked his gaze toward her, his brow furrowing ever so slightly before his focus returned to the road.

The tension was palpable.

Jinwoo cleared his throat, breaking the silence. “Were you able to sleep well?” he asked, addressing Jinho.

“Yes, Hyung-nim. Unnie is really a great host!” Jinho replied, his tone overly chipper as he tried to ease the atmosphere.

For the briefest of moments, he caught the smallest of smiles gracing your lips. It was faint and fleeting, but it was there. Before he could even process it, your expression returned to its usual steady, composed look.

The silence resumed.

This time, it was Jinho who cleared his throat awkwardly. “By the way, what business do you two have at the World Tower this early?”

“We’ll be going,” Jinwoo answered curtly.

Your gaze flickered to Jinho, and you added, “Take care of my shop in my absence, okay, Jinho?”

“Wait, what—?” Before Jinho could even finish his sentence, both of you were gone.

Jinho blinked, staring at the now-empty car. “Huh?” he muttered to himself, still processing the abrupt departure.

He sighed, leaning back in the seat. “Well… at least the tension’s gone now…”

---

“As we practiced, Tusk!” Your voice carried across the battlefield, clear and commanding.

Jinwoo stood at a safe distance, watching as the shadow of the high orc shaman obeyed your order, prepared to unleash a spell. Tusk raised the Orb of Avarice high, the artifact shimmering as it expanded to match his increased size.

“Fire!”

The command was punctuated by a deafening explosion of power. The beam tore through the battlefield, obliterating every demon in its path, only leaving a charred crater. The heat from the explosion rippled outward, stirring dust and debris, carrying with it the echoes of decimation.

Jinwoo whistled in appreciation, folding his arms as he observed the carnage. Behind him, his shadows shifted, and your butterflies fluttered in synchronized patterns, as if admiring the display.

Meanwhile, you floated upward, your butterflies swirling protectively around you. Once you reached Tusk’s massive head, you landed lightly, patting the shaman’s forehead.

“Well done!” you praised, your voice warm. A neon blue butterfly followed your gesture, landing on Tusk’s—well, tusk.

The shadow rumbled in satisfaction, his massive shoulders relaxing as he basked in the praise. Jinwoo couldn’t help but chuckle

Yeah, he thought, a small smirk tugging at his lips, leaving Tusk’s training to her was definitely the right call.

---

“Say, can your butterflies level up?” Jinwoo began as his dagger sliced cleanly through a demon, sending the dark creature crumpling to the ground. “Like my shadows?”

You were a short distance away, directing a volley of butterflies toward a cluster of demons. The faint hum of system constant notifications rang in Jinwoo’s mind as both your forces and his defeated demons across the floor in the coordinated teams.

“Yes, they can,” you replied, casting a spell that sent silvery light streaking toward Jinwoo. His health bar filled rapidly, minor scratches on his arms close up. A boost in mana regeneration and overall speed left him feeling reinvigorated as he flexed his fingers.

“They gain power differently, though,” you continued, spinning your scepter once to clear some demons encroaching on your position. “Instead of receiving direct experience points from defeating enemies, they grow stronger by feeding on lifeforce. It’s a continuous process, and it takes significantly more time.”

Jinwoo hummed, parrying a claw strike from a nearby demon. He glanced back at you as you effortlessly destroyed another group with a volley of silver projectiles.

You nodded. “They also have ranks similar to your shadows, but the system referred to them as stages of metamorphosis. Egg, Larva, Pupa, and Adult. Their forms change at each stage. Sometimes they grow larger, sometimes their colors or wing patterns shift, and so on. The last time I maxed them out, though, the ‘Adult’ stage was locked, so my strongest children remained in the ‘Pupa’ stage.”

Jinwoo tilted his head slightly, avoiding a beam of light that zipped past where his head had been moments before. The shot hit its mark, incinerating a line of demons behind him. He didn’t bother turning to check the scorched corpses. His focus stayed on you.

Your scepter glimmered in your hand, its tip still smoking faintly from the spell. You ran a hand down its length, your expression calm and calculated as more demons circled you and him.

“To ascend to the next stage, each butterfly requires specific ascension materials. The materials differ depending on the field I want them to excel in—whether it’s devouring, illusions, healing, or something else entirely,” you continued. Your voice was steady, even as you broke into a sprint straight toward him.

Jinwoo remained perfectly composed, lowering one hand, bracing himself. Without hesitation, you plant your foot in his palm, and he used his strength to propel you into the air. The dagger held in his other hand slashed cleanly through the demon hot on your heels.

Midair, you spun gracefully, casting multiple magic circles that hovered around you like constellations. Beams of concentrated light erupted from them, carving through the horde of demons surrounding Jinwoo with pinpoint accuracy. The spells struck true, decimating the creatures while leaving Jinwoo untouched in the center.

You landed gracefully, the silver aura around you dispersing as your butterflies fluttered back to various parts of the battlefield, supporting Jinwoo’s soldiers.

“It was something I gave the system feedback about. It’s why your shadows only need your permission to rank up.” You brushed a stray strand of hair from your face.

“A single Larva-stage butterfly is more than equal to an entire kaleidoscope of its siblings still in the Egg stage. And that comparison holds for the higher stages as well.”

Jinwoo’s eyes followed the graceful movements of your butterflies, a thoughtful look crossing his face. “So… when do you get to name them?” he asked casually, flicking the blood from his blade.

You turned to him sharply, your expression almost scandalized. “My children are living, sentient beings, Jinwoo. I name them as I see fit.”

Jinwoo smirked. “You’re telling me you memorize all their names? From the look of it, you’ve got hundreds—no, thousands of them.” He chuckled, expecting you to roll your eyes or laugh.

Instead, you looked at him blankly, reply just as flat, “Yes.”

Jinwoo opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. After a second, he closed it again and shook his head with a soft chuckle. “Of course, you do,” he murmured, bemused. Honestly, he should’ve expected that. It was just so you.

A voice echoed in your mind, soft and respectful.

My Lady, Sir Jinwoo’s shadows have located the entry permit. We can now ascend to the next floor.

“Red informed me that Igris’ team found the entry permit,” you relayed to Jinwoo.

He raised a brow. “Red?”

“The child who always hovers to my right,” you said, and as if on cue, Red fluttered down to your shoulder. You patted her wings lightly, murmuring, “Well done.”

Igris materialized behind Jinwoo, confirming the butterfly’s report with a respectful nod.

Jinwoo made a mental note to ask you more about your telepathic connection and the mechanics of how your butterflies were born. For now, it was time to ascend.

“Let’s move.”

Together, you ascended to the 80th floor.

End Note:

Unfinished Draft of [18/11/2024] -

#solo leveling imagine #solo leveling #only i level up #solo leveling x reader #sung jin woo x reader #sung jinwoo x reader #jinwoo sung x reader #sung jinwoo #solo leveling jinwoo #sung jin woo #yandere sung jinwoo #solo leveling fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #reader insert #x reader #fem reader

138 notes · View notes