#but they only enjoy them more what it’s just the adults and they get a few drinks into Aaron and he’s all over the place

[alsofoundinpeas]

Beyond the Window

Summary: With her package plan a success, the only thing standing between Y/N and Spencer now was his job. But as soon as he returned home, nothing would hold them back from finally acting on their feelings—this time, with no windows in the way.

CONTENT WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI!! This fic is intended for adult audiences. Some might consider this dubcon (talk of Spencer watching reader through her window but reader had wanted him to) so please be aware of that! Fingering (f!receiving), oral (both m and f receiving), unprotected P in V sex (birth control mentioned), overstimulation/multiple orgasms (both m and f receiving), dry humping (if you squint), creampie (fuck I hate typing that), minor corruption kink, heavy praise, Virgin!Spencer, Sub!Spencer (he is pathetic and LOUD in this FYI), Soft Dom!reader, Perv!Spencer and Perv!Reader (they're back at it again LMFAO). Both fluffy and smutty. They match each other’s freak your honor!!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader/afab!reader

A/N: Anddd done! This was, to date, the filthiest thing I've written so I'm nervous but I also loved writing it LMAO. I hope you guys enjoy part two as much as I enjoyed writing it :') I'll be putting out more sub!Spence in the future, but for now I hope you guys like this!! As always, please let me know what you guys think and if you do enjoy it then please like, reblog, and share it with your friends. <3 Thank you and I love you all!! :)

Spencer was certain the universe was playing a cruel, twisted prank on him.

It was the only explanation for being called into work early on a Sunday morning when he was supposed to be off. The night before, he’d gone to bed without replying to Y/N, hoping to come up with the perfect witty, flirty response the next day—when his brain wasn't a pile of mush. As he hurried to pack a go-bag and get dressed, Spencer cursed under his breath for waiting. Now, he’d have to send a hasty, jumbled apology and hope that Y/N would still want him to come over when he got back.

While Spencer drove—a task he loathed but had no choice in, given the lack of time for the metro—Penelope briefed him on the case details. The team was being sent to Wyoming to assist with a rapidly escalating unsub, which explained the need to get there quickly. Spencer couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt as Penelope spoke. Even with the case's urgency, his mind kept returning to Y/N.

“Reid?” Penelope sighed, then tried again. “Hello? Earth to Reid?!”

Spencer snapped back to reality, his face flushing as he cleared his throat. “Sorry, I got distracted. What was the last part again?”

Penelope's laughter echoed through the phone. “What’s keeping your mind so busy? Besides all your usual genius stuff, that is."

Spencer groaned, knowing that the blonde wouldn’t stop pressing until she got an answer. With a heavy sigh, he reluctantly began to explain.

"There’s this girl who lives across from me, and I’ve had a crush on her for a while… We’d run into each other a few times at the library and the coffee shop near my place, but recently, a package of hers ended up at my door. I took it to her yesterday morning, and we ended up hanging out—" He paused, swallowing hard as his mind drifted to what had happened that night, but he quickly pushed the thought aside. "Anyway, she texted me to come over again, but then I got called in for the case. So, yeah, she’s just been on my mind."

Spencer winced as a loud squeal erupted from the phone, quickly followed by the sound of enthusiastic clapping.

“Spencer! That’s adorable! What’s her name?”

“Nope. Not a chance. I know you’ll look her up and start stalking her!” Spencer protested as he pulled into the parking garage. “Look, I just got here, so I’ll see you when we get back. Please keep this between us for now, alright? I don’t need everyone hounding me about it while we have a case to focus on.”

Penelope groaned dramatically but gave in, sighing in playful annoyance. “Ugh, fine, lover boy. You just ruined all my fun,” she grumbled. “Be safe, my sweet angel, and tell Derek to call me when you guys land!”

Spencer finished the call and hung up, swiftly typing out a message to send to Y/N before he had to go in. His thumbs clumsily pressed the buttons as he hurried, letting out an annoyed sigh as he fumbled with his flip-phone. He’d never been a fan of modern technology, but if getting a new phone meant it would be easier to talk to her, he’d consider it.

Good morning! I hope you slept well. Apologies for the late response. I’d love to come over, but unfortunately, I’ve been called in for a case. Would you still like me to come by once I get back?

Spencer gave a nod to himself, hit send, then gathered his things and stepped out of the car.

Y/N paused when she heard her phone ding, toothbrush still in her mouth. She quickly finished brushing, swishing mouthwash as she walked to her room to grab her phone. Returning to the bathroom, she spat out the mouthwash before finally glancing at the waiting text.

A small giggle fell from her lips as she read Spencer’s message, leaning back against the sink as she responded.

Of course, Spencer. Only if you want to :) xoxo

He texted like an old man (which wasn't surprising, considering his wardrobe). She thought it was charming. She placed her phone on the bathroom counter and stepped toward the shower to start the water, a smile still playing on her lips from his message.

A content sigh fell from her lips once she stepped into the hot stream of water, letting the water relax her tight muscles.

As her soapy hands began to wander her body, her mind wandered back to Spencer and just how deliciously pathetic he’d looked stroking himself to the sight of her. Honestly, Y/N had worried she’d scared the poor guy with her message after he’d watched her the night before, so seeing his text was a relief. Now, she just had to wait for him to return from his case—and then he’d finally be all hers.

The week crawled by, each day stretching on painfully, leaving both of them restless and longing for each other's company.

Each night when Y/N came home, she’d glance out of her curtains, hoping to see that Spencer had returned, only to let out a quiet sigh when she found he hadn’t. She couldn’t remember ever being this excited to see someone before. Something about Spencer had her completely hooked—not just his looks, but the man behind them. After spending time with him, she was eager to uncover more about the sweet, brilliant person who lived across from her.

Another four days went by before the text she’d been waiting for finally came through.

Hey pretty girl, we just landed so I’ll be home in about an hour. Are you up for some company?

Y/N arched a brow as she read the message, re-reading it a few times to make sure she wasn’t hallucinating. That didn’t sound like Spencer at all… but she was too eager for him to come over to worry about it now. She’d figure out who actually sent it when he arrived.

With a small grin, Y/N typed her reply, then set her phone down to get ready and tidy up her apartment.

“Morgan! Come on! Are you serious?” Spencer griped, swatting at the man in an attempt to grab his phone back. “What did you say to her?”

Penelope had (accidentally) let it slip to Morgan that Spencer was, in her words, "dating but not dating this super cute girl who lives across from him." Naturally, she’d ignored his requests for privacy, tracked down the tenant list for Y/N’s building, and found her online after figuring out she was the one. So, when Morgan glanced over Spencer's shoulder and saw the carefully composed message he’d written, he snatched the phone and sent something entirely different.

“Relax, kid! I’m just helping you out. You’re going to scare her off if you keep talking to her like a geezer,” Morgan chuckled, tossing him back his phone before standing from his seat and stretching. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

Spencer sighed, shaking his head in frustration before unlocking his phone to check the message. He cringed at what Morgan had sent, but then his heart skipped a beat as he read Y/N’s reply.

Come over whenever you’re ready, pretty boy. I can’t wait to see you. :)

Spencer’s face flushed as he brushed off the curious looks from the team, eager to get off the jet and head home to drop his stuff off—then straight to Y/N’s. A mix of nervousness and excitement churned inside him, his hands trembling as he started the drive home. It felt surreal to him, knowing not only that she was excited to see him, but that she wanted him just as much as he wanted her.

A firm knock at the door pulled Y/N’s attention from the couch, a bright smile spreading across her face as she jumped up to answer it. "Coming!" she called, quickly unlocking the door. When she opened it, Spencer stood there, looking a bit nervous and holding a bag of takeout from her favorite diner.

"Oh, Spencer," she murmured, her gaze softening as she noticed the bag. "You’re so sweet! You didn’t have to get dinner—I was planning to order something when you got here." She stepped aside to let him in, closing the door behind him and taking the bag from his hand so he could slip off his coat.

Spencer waved it off with a sheepish grin as he followed her into the kitchen. "I wanted to," he said. "I noticed you ordered from them a lot and thought it would be a nice surprise." His eyes widened in panic. "Not that I’ve been, like, stalking you or anything! And, um, I'm sorry if I didn’t pick the right thing. I can run back and grab something else—"

“Spencer.”

Y/N sat down the plates she'd gotten out for them and silenced his nervous rambling by gently cupping his cheeks. Spencer froze mid-sentence, his mouth slightly open as he looked down at her. She smiled up at him, softly stroking her thumb along his cheekbone.

“You did perfect, sweetheart,” she reassured him, her gaze flicking to his lips for a moment before meeting his eyes again. “It was so thoughtful of you to pick up dinner. I'm sure I'll enjoy whatever you ordered. Thank you.”

Spencer swallowed, his heart pounding at the feel of her hands on his face. He drew in a deep breath, steadying himself before he whispered, “Of course.”

Y/N smiled, brushing her hand over his cheek one last time before turning back to plate the food, which looked and smelled delicious. Once she finished, she headed to the fridge, glancing back at Spencer. "Wine, water, or soda?"

"Water, please. Thank you."

Nodding, Y/N poured herself a glass of wine and then filled one with water for him. They walked into the living room, both of them buzzing with anticipation for what was to come later. They sat side by side, enjoying the warmth that came from being pressed together as they began to eat.

"So," Y/N started, laughing softly before continuing. "Who texted me from your phone earlier today? Unless the grandfather ghost inhabiting your body decided to take a rain check."

Spencer groaned in embarrassment, chuckling awkwardly as he glanced at her. "Sorry about that… that was my co-worker, Derek. And best friend too. He accused me of 'talking to you like a geezer' and decided to try and do better himself."

Y/N laughed even harder, putting her fork down to take a sip of her wine before replying. "I knew it wasn’t you!" she said with a triumphant grin, then paused, a new realization dawning on her. "You talk about me to your team?"

Spencer hesitated, finishing his bite slowly before taking a drink and nodding. "Sort of… I told Penelope about you, and then she mentioned it to Derek. I’m sorry—i-is that okay?" His fingers pushed his glasses up, a nervous habit of his.

It was more than okay. A giddy feeling rushed through her at the idea of him talking about her to his co-workers, recalling how he'd mentioned during their first hangout how much he valued them. She nodded, nudging him with her shoulder gently.

“You apologize too much, Spence. It’s totally fine. If anything, I’m flattered,” she admitted with a grin.

It didn’t take long for them to finish eating. Once the plates were cleared and placed in the sink, Y/N turned to Spencer, a small smirk playing on her lips. Spencer swallowed, leaning back against the counter, his eyes locked on her with a mix of curiosity as she began to speak.

"Do you watch every girl you're interested in through their window? Or am I just special?"

Her tone was playful, not angry or accusatory, but Spencer still tensed, stumbling over his words as he tried to explain himself.

"I swear I didn’t mean to come off as creepy or anything," Spencer stammered. "It’s just… from the moment I met you in the library, you were so captivating. And when I found out you lived across from me, I couldn’t help myself—"

Y/N's gaze softened as she realized just how nervous he actually was, and she took a step forward, shushing him with a finger to his lips.

"Spence, hey. Look at me, sweetheart,” she murmured, her arms loosely wrapping around his neck. She waited until their eyes met, then continued, her fingers gently twisting the hair at the nape of his neck. “I was just teasing. I wanted you to watch. That’s why I left my curtains open.”

Spencer’s eyes widened at her admission, a shaky sigh escaping his lips as he recalled every time she’d left her curtains open. All this time, she had wanted him to watch. The realization sent a strange warmth through him, and he carefully placed his hands on her waist.

“So, was the package at my door part of your plan too?” he breathed, his expression a blend of lust and adoration as he looked down at her.

Y/N's answer came in the form of a nod and a smug grin. Spencer chuckled, his nerves easing the longer he held her in his arms.

"I didn’t think you’d ever make a move, so I decided to take matters into my own hands," she said softly, still grinning as she met his gaze, mirroring the admiration in his eyes.

Spencer wrapped his arms around her, drawing her closer. “Is it wrong to say I’m glad you did?” he murmured, his hands gently caressing her lower back through her shirt. “You’re just… perfect. I was afraid you wouldn’t even give me the time of day if I’d tried to.”

Y/N’s mouth fell open in surprise, her brows furrowing as she tilted her head. “Are you serious?” she asked incredulously, letting her hands slide to rest on his shoulders as she leaned back in his embrace. “Spencer, I adore you. You could’ve asked me out in the library, right then, after just thirty seconds of knowing each other, and I would’ve said yes without a second thought. You really don’t give yourself enough credit.”

She tilted her head up, brushing her nose against his, continuing before he could speak. "Let me show you just how incredible I think you are. Please?"

Spencer sucked in a sharp breath, his heart racing at her words. It was exactly what he wanted, more than anything. But he hesitated, his mouth working as he fought to find the right words.

"I'm a virgin!" he not-so-eloquently blurted out instead.

Y/N's head jerked back, blinking hard as she processed his words. Had she heard him right?

"Wait... what did you just say?"

Spencer blushed hard, averting his gaze to the ground as he repeated himself.

"I'm a virgin."

It was Y/N’s turn to suck in a sharp breath, the admission arousing her more than she’d care to admit. She rubbed his shoulders gently before using one of her hands to guide his face back to hers, her gaze earnest as she looked at him.

“Honey, we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. We don’t have to do anything at all—“

Spencer shook his head vigorously at that, a low whine emitting from his throat as he pressed his forehead to hers. “I want to do everything with you. I want to more than anything, I swear! I-I just… I don’t want it to be bad for you,” he whispered, unnecessary shame lacing his words.

“Spencer… sweetheart, it would never be bad for me as long as I’m with you,” Y/N whispered, her voice warm and steady. “I don’t want you to feel pressured, babe. Honestly, we could just curl up on the couch, watch a movie, or talk. I love talking with you, about anything.”

Spencer’s heart swelled at her words. No one had ever told him they truly enjoyed his company before, nor had anyone ever shown such genuine affection or concern for his emotions. It was a feeling he hadn’t known he was missing.

“I’m more than sure, Y/N. Please?” he mumbled, his grip on her hips tightening slightly. “I-I want to make you feel good.”

She paused, her eyes closing as she carefully considered her next move. After a long breath, Y/N gave a small nod, then pulled away from him completely.

“Follow me, then.”

Spencer hurried after her, nearly stumbling over his own feet in his eagerness to keep up. Once they reached her bedroom, Y/N shut the door and turned to face him, leaving him standing in the middle of her dimly lit room. He glanced around, almost in disbelief, as if he couldn’t quite believe he was really here—standing in her room and not caught in some dream.

“Bet it feels different being in here rather than just looking in,” Y/N teased, stepping closer to him.

“Very. I’m still waiting for the cameraman to jump out and tell me it’s all a prank.”

A soft laugh escaped her, and she shook her head with a smirk. “Sorry to disappoint, but that’s not happening. No prank, sweetheart,” she hummed, her eyes catching the way his gaze swept over her, full of unspoken desire.

Y/N smirked as she took another step forward, urging Spencer backward until the backs of his knees hit her mattress. She reached up, pushing down gently on his shoulders until he gingerly sat on the bed, looking up at her with wide eyes as she moved to straddle his lap. Her fingers carded through his hair, tugging gently and eliciting a whimper from him as she cocked her head.

“Quit looking at me like that,” she murmured, scratching her nails gently against his scalp.

A shiver ran down Spencer’s spine, his brows furrowing at her words. He shifted underneath her, resting his shaking hands on her hips. His tongue poked out to wet his lips, and he didn’t miss the way her eyes darkened at the sight.

“Like what?”

“Like you want me to ruin you.”

Y/N’s words lingered in the air, their breaths the only sound breaking the stillness. The tension between them was electric, each waiting for the other to break first. Finally, Spencer did, his voice barely a whisper as he spoke.

“That’s exactly what I want you to do.”

The slight tremble in his voice and the doe-eyed look he sported were all it took for Y/N’s resolve to crumble completely.

With a low groan, her lips crashed onto his. Their mouths melded together, the small whine bubbling in Spencer’s throat encouraging her to kiss him even harder. His hands reached up to cradle her face, matching her intensity as their lips moved together.

It wasn’t what she’d expected at all.

Spencer didn’t kiss her like the shy, hesitant man from earlier. Instead, his kiss was fiery, almost desperate, as though he wanted to drown in her and never resurface. And she found herself wanting exactly the same.

Y/N’s hands wandered from his hair down his chest, letting her fingertips dip beneath the hem of his shirt as their tongues brushed together. Her nails gently dragged along the soft skin there, and she felt his erection twitch from where it was firmly pressed to her core. Spencer whimpered, breaking their kiss with a soft gasp as he looked up at her pleadingly.

“Please,” he panted, his hands reaching for her hips to pull her down into him. Y/N rolled her hips against his, moaning lowly at the friction. She repeated the action once before stopping her movements, climbing off of him despite his protests with one simple command.

"Take off your clothes, Spence."

He complied immediately, scrambling to stand and strip out of his clothes. His fingers fumbled as he worked at his tie, his focus stuck on her as she undressed before him. A frustrated groan left his lips as he finally yanked the tie off, his hands moving too slowly for his own liking.

Y/N arched a brow, chuckling at his irritated noise as she stepped out of her pants. She reached up to stop his hands, beginning to unbutton his shirt herself. "What's got you so worked up, hm? It's not like it's anything you haven't seen before," she purred, sliding her hands under the fabric and slipping it off of him.

The shirt hit the ground with a muted thump, and her eyes roamed over his newly exposed skin hungrily. Spencer whined at her teasing, letting his hands roam up and down her sides as she worked on getting his pants off.

"I could see you like this an infinite amount of times, and it would still take my breath away every time," he murmured, his hands gently squeezing her hips.

A faint pink spread across her cheeks at his words, and she lifted her face to place a soft kiss on his lips, a silent thank you. No one had ever made her feel as treasured as Spencer did. He gazed at her with a devotion that felt almost reverent, as though she were someone to be worshipped—and he longed to be the one to worship her.

Which was highly ironic, considering she was the one sinking to her knees the second his pants pooled around his ankles.

"Wh-what are you doing?" Spencer's voice raised pitch as she steadied herself with her hands on his thighs, looking down at her with wide eyes, pushing his glasses back up his nose as they threatened to slip down from the angle.

"What does it look like I'm doing, sweetheart?" Y/N murmured, leaning forward to press an open-mouthed kiss to his hip. "I want your pretty cock down my throat. You okay with that?"

The sound Spencer made was almost pained, his fists clenching at his sides as he struggled to figure out what to do with his hands. His mouth parted, a stutter escaping him before he finally gave in, nodding instead. His cock twitched in his boxers, aching to feel her touch.

"Words, baby. Use your words."

Y/N's lips skimmed across his navel, peppering kisses along the smattering of hair there as she waited for his response.

"God—yes! I'm okay with that," Spencer whined, his hips bucking forward instinctively from her touch. "Please... please touch me—"

Y/N couldn't deny such sweet begging. It would be downright cruel if she did.

Her fingers found the waistband of his boxers, tugging them down slowly. She kept her eyes locked on his, carefully assessing his every reaction to ensure there was no trace of doubt before proceeding. When she saw none, she swiftly yanked them down the rest of the way, letting them pool around his ankles with his pants.

Spencer gasped as the chill of her bedroom air met his warm skin, goosebumps spreading across his arms as he fought the urge to shy away from her gaze. He never thought that highly of himself in the physical aspect— all lean muscles, lanky limbs, and pale skin spattered with freckles and a few random scars. But his insecurities faded the moment he heard her breath catch, her eyes filled with admiration as they lingered on him.

"You're so beautiful, Spencer," Y/N breathed, bringing a hand up to grip him gently. "So, so beautiful."

Her mouth was on him before he could respond.

A keening sound filled the room as he watched in pure awe as she dragged her tongue up and down the length of him slowly before her lips wrapped around the flushed head of his cock, a spark of pleasure shooting up his spine as his hands flexed by his side. She sucked gently, swirling her tongue around the tip before pulling off of him to speak.

"Don't be afraid to hold onto me, sweetheart. Go ahead."

Spencer's hands immediately came up to cradle the back of her head, finding purchase as she returned to what she was doing. The sight of her on her knees and taking the length of him into her mouth had his knees almost buckling. It was something he'd dreamed about for nights on end, but now that it was actually happening, he didn't know what to do with himself.

"F-fuck—" He whimpered, his eyes squeezing shut to prevent himself from cumming right then and there.

All he'd ever experienced before was his own hand (and occasionally some desperate humping against his mattress), so the feeling of her mouth around him was otherworldly. Just when he thought it was safe to open his eyes again, Y/N smirked around her mouthful and pushed her head down to take him in completely.

"Oh—!" Spencer cried out as he hit the back of her throat, jolting and stumbling backward and falling out of her mouth with a slick 'pop'. His chest heaved as he reached down to grip himself tightly, staving off his orgasm. He didn't want to cum yet. Not this quickly.

"I-I'm sorry, it just felt too... too good—"

Y/N gently stroked his trembling thighs, pressing a kiss beneath his belly button before rising to her feet. She shushed his stammered apologies with a kiss on his forehead, caressing his face as he caught his breath. His face was flushed, both from embarrassment and arousal, and the sight was more endearing than it should have been.

"You have nothing to apologize for, sweetheart. Absolutely nothing," she whispered, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips before turning to crawl onto her bed. “Get up here, baby,” she crooned as she laid back against her pillows, patting the spot beside her.

Spencer almost tripped over his pants in his haste to follow after her, kicking the fabric away before he kneeled onto the mattress, smiling meekly at Y/N as she watched in amusement. "I w-want—" Spencer paused as he watched her lean forward so she could unclasp her bra, completely enraptured. "I want to taste you. Please?"

Desire coursed through her at his words, searing through her veins as she met his gaze. She loved how pretty the word please sounded falling from his kiss-swollen lips. She slipped free from her bra, tossing it to the ground before answering his pleading.

"Go ahead, baby. Take whatever you want—I want you to have it all."

Spencer swallowed hard at that, a small grin playing on his lips as he moved forward to settle between her spread legs. He kneeled between them, taking off his glasses and setting them on her nightstand before lowering himself to hover over her. He bumped his nose against hers, his grin widening as he moved to tentatively kiss along the side of her neck.

Y/N moaned at the feeling, tangling her fingers into his tousled strands. He continued, trailing his kisses down the slope of her shoulder before pausing to suck a small mark into her skin, relishing in the soft noises falling from her lips. Once he was satisfied with his mark, he brought his lips down to mouth along her breast, laving his tongue over the taut bud of her nipple.

"Spence—" she whimpered as he closed his lips around the hardened peak, suckling with a low groan that rumbled against her skin. She tugged at his hair, pulling him impossibly closer. "Feels so good, sweetheart."

Spencer hummed, pulling off her breast after a moment and switching to the other to give it the same treatment. Y/N whined, arching into his touch as he began to move down her body. What he may have lacked in physical experience, he more than compensated for with knowledge.

Contrary to popular belief, he wasn't a prude. He'd read plenty of erotic novels, as well as countless books all centered around the female anatomy and how to inflict the most pleasure so that he could at least pretend to feel prepared for his first time. It seemed to be paying off, though, if the noises she made were any indication of how he was doing.

Spencer's hands came up to rest on her hips as he settled on his stomach between her thighs, hissing softly when his erection pressed into the mattress. His eyes met hers, and the clouded look in her eyes was all the encouragement he needed.

"God, you're soaked," he whispered in astonishment as his finger traced the damp spot in the front of her panties, causing a breathy chuckle to slip from her lips.

"How could I not be?"

Spencer blushed, leaning down to kiss her inner thigh before pulling the fabric down her legs. His breath hitched at the sight of her glistening pussy, fully on display for him without the barrier of their windows in his way. Any coherent thought that was swirling around in his head vanished, replaced with an urgent need to taste her. He moved without thinking as he latched his mouth onto her eagerly, groaning against her slick skin as he began to lap at her hungrily.

"Fuck! Spencer—" Y/N cried out, her grip on his hair tightening at the unexpected pleasure. Her head tipped back against her pillows as her hips writhed under his ministrations, rolling against his mouth as he devoured her.

There was little to no technique— just pure, unbridled enthusiasm. But it felt so good that she didn't care. He alternated between sucking at her clit and thrusting his tongue into her, needy moans slipping from his lips the entire time he did.

"Fingers, baby—" she gasped, biting her lower lip harshly to stifle a loud moan. "Use your fingers, too."

Spencer didn't need to be told twice. He pulled away from her, licking the taste of her from his lips as he brought two fingers up to her entrance. He focused his gaze on her face as he pushed them inside of her, his mouth hanging open and soft breaths panting against her skin as he began to thrust them.

"Like this?"

His tone wasn't cocky or arrogant. It was curious, like he was genuinely invested in finding out what felt the best for her. She nodded, a choked moan slipping from her lips as he grazed against that rough patch of nerves inside of her that had her hips thrashing.

Spencer watched in fascination for a moment before bringing his head back down, his eyes fluttering shut as he began to trace her clit with his tongue. His hips rocked instinctively against the bed, grinding against it in a desperate attempt to find some relief for his aching cock as he brought her closer and closer to her climax.

"Spence—" Y/N whimpered, her hands falling from his hair to grip the sheets as she clenched around his fingers. "I-I'm cumming—"

Spencer groaned against her, doubling his efforts so he could watch her fall apart on his fingers. With a soft cry, Y/N came hard, her eyes squeezing shut as she trembled underneath him. He continued his movements, pumping his fingers into her gently until she was whining and wriggling away from his touch.

Spencer watched her in awe, kneading her thighs and hips to help her come down from her high.

"C'mere," she panted after a few minutes, finally opening her eyes to look up at him as he moved to hover above her.

A proud grin made its way to Spencer's face as he obeyed, resting on his forearms as he looked down at her. The hazy look in her eyes made his heart race, knowing that he was the cause of it doing more for his ego than he cared to admit. She returned his grin, leaning up to kiss him softly and tasting herself on his tongue.

"You did so good, sweetheart. Such a good boy for me," she mumbled against his lips.

She broke the kiss to press on his shoulders, rolling them over so she straddled him once more. A lazy smirk adorned her lips as he looked up at her, his pupils so dilated that the soft brown of his eyes was indiscernible. She began to rock her hips against his aching cock, a sigh slipping from her lips as her folds dragged over him.

Spencer moaned lowly at the friction, bringing his hands up to palm at her ass as she continued her movements. His fingers dug into her flesh as she spoke, but he didn't hear a single word she said as he kept his gaze locked on where her pussy was gliding along his length.

"Hey," Y/N cooed, patting his cheek gently to guide his eyes back to hers. "Eyes on me, sweetheart."

Spencer whined, his hips bucking underneath hers in an attempt to bring back the delicious friction that had been taken away when she lifted her hips. "I-I'm sorry. I wasn't listening," Spencer mumbled sheepishly, his face flushed as he held her gaze.

Y/N chuckled, tutting in mock disappointment as she gripped his chin. "I know you weren't," she muttered with an arched brow before continuing. "I was asking if you wanted to use a condom or not. I'm clean and—"

"No condom!"

Y/N jumped, startled. The urgency in his voice sent a wave of warmth through her as she eyed him in amusement, enjoying the bashful look that immediately appeared on his face after his exclamation. Spencer cleared his throat, attempting to regain some of his dignity.

"I'm sorry… I didn't mean to borderline shout that," Spencer said softly, his voice cracking slightly. "I just— I want to feel you, please. Without a condom in the way, preferably."

The grin that spread across her face could only be described as salacious as she nodded, cradling his face before leaning in for a tender kiss.

"No condom it is, then."

Y/N shifted up onto her knees, reaching between them to align him with her entrance before pausing when he spoke up.

"I— um... C-can I be on top of you instead?" he whispered, looking up at her with nervous eyes.

Her gaze softened at the sight, and she nodded immediately. "Of course, sweetheart. Whatever you want, remember?" She murmured with a fond smile, rolling off of him to lay back against the pillows.

Spencer thanked her quietly, moving to hover above her once more. His body trembled as he propped up on one arm, reaching down to line himself up with her once more. She cradled his face, stroking her thumb along his cheekbone reassuringly. He took a deep breath to steady himself before pushing forward, sinking into her.

The feeling of her tight walls wrapping around him had him keening while she moaned just as loudly in return, dropping his head into the crook of her neck as he sucked in desperate, shaky breaths. He'd never experienced pleasure so overwhelming before. He was honestly convinced he'd died right there in her arms, pressing sloppy kisses to her skin just to prove to himself that he was, in fact, still alive.

"God— feels so good," he began to babble, moaning softly as he pulled his hips back slightly before thrusting forward again. "So tight... so wet— fuck!"

Y/N dug her nails into his shoulders, whimpering as he thrusted into her again, this time a little harder. "That's it, Spence," she panted, encouraging him to begin really moving. "You feel so good, baby. So fucking deep."

Spencer's hips jerked at that, his head dropping back into the crook of her neck as he began to drive into her in short, jagged thrusts. Moans slipped freely from his lips, mingling with hers as their bodies moved in tandem.

It didn't take long before the familiar tightening in his stomach came back, but he was too lost in the pleasure to stop. The feeling of Y/N around him was addictive. He seeked solace in her walls, rutting into her like a man possessed now as he sang her his praises against her skin. His hips stuttered as he lifted his head up, crashing his lips onto hers in a messy kiss as his hips pounded against hers even harder.

"Gonna— cum, fuck, I'm cumming—"

Spencer cried out against her lips, burying himself as deep inside of her as he could before filling her with rope after rope of his release. A pitiful noise fell from his lips as he broke the kiss, his eyes wide as he gawked down at her. His hips stopped moving, but before he could speak, Y/N was looping her arms around his neck and pulling him down.

“Did I say you could stop fucking me, Spencer?” Y/N’s voice was taunting in his ear, her nails digging into his shoulders as she wrapped her legs around his waist to keep him in place.

Spencer’s brows pinched together as confusion washed over him, and his arms trembled as he struggled to remain hovering above her. His cock twitched inside of her as she canted her hips up, causing him to hiss softly from the overstimulation. His lower lip wobbled as he stared at her with a half-dazed, half-pleading look.

"W-what?"

“You greedy boy,” Y/N purred as she rolled her hips again. She smirked at the whimper he let out before tilting her head to skim her lips across his. “Don’t you want to feel me cum on your cock? Hm?”

Spencer shuddered at her words, chasing helplessly after her lips. He whined petulantly when she tilted her head, keeping him from succeeding in getting his kiss.

“I do,” Spencer whimpered, nodding fervently. “I wanna feel it so bad,” he groaned, his words beginning to slur from the pleasure coursing through him from head to toe.

“Then keep fucking me, sweetheart.”

A determined look crossed over his face, his brows knitting together as he shifted up onto his knees and pulled her hips up before thrusting forward. The change in angles had her crying out as he brushed against her sweet spot, and he grunted as he began to rock into her slowly, pushing past the sweet sting of overstimulation. He tightened his grip on her hip with one hand while his other moved to where they were connected, rubbing small, sloppy circles against her clit as he began moving with a purpose.

“Mm—“ Y/N groaned out, her eyes threatening to close as she struggled to keep them focused on his face. “Just like that, Spence. Ah—!“

The sound of his hips snapping against hers paired with the slick, crude sound of him fucking his cum back into her had his head lolling back, a guttural moan rumbling in his throat.

His hips were relentless, chasing her pleasure more so than his own now. It was messy and borderline feral—their mixed arousal coated his pelvis and her thighs and one of the corners of the sheets had come up from Y/N yanking at them. But neither of them could find it in themselves to care.

“Cum for me, Y/N,” Spencer begged, shifting her legs up onto his shoulders and clinging to her thighs as he drove into her. “Please—wanna feel you cum on my cock… I need it—“

The sound of his pleading hurled her over the edge. Y/N’s nails nearly tore through the sheets as her eyes squeezed shut, cry after cry of his name falling from her open mouth as she came around him. Her body trembled from the force of her orgasm, her walls clenching so tightly around him that it triggered his second climax unexpectedly.

“Oh my God— oh— fuck!” Spencer wailed, devolving into a series of whimpers as he spilled everything he had into her.

After a moment of ragged breathing, he turned to press a kiss to her ankle before easing her limp legs off of his shoulders and to the bed. Y/N stroked his hair with shaky hands as he crumpled over on top of her, their bodies warm and damp with sweat. Their chests were heaving as they struggled to catch their breath, with Y/N whispering into his hair how good he did and how perfect he’d made her feel.

They stayed curled up for a while, but eventually, the stickiness became too much to ignore. They both stumbled into her bathroom—both for a quick shower and for Y/N to pee to avoid a UTI. After changing the sheets, they returned to her bed, and Y/N turned away to switch off the lamp, leaving them wrapped in the peaceful darkness.

“Does this mean you’re my girlfriend now?” Spencer asked, a shy grin on his face as she turned back to him, snuggling into his embrace as he pulled her closer.

Y/N huffed out a soft, sleepy laugh, nodding against him. “If you want me to be, sweetheart,” she murmured, her voice heavy with exhaustion as her eyelids fluttered shut.

“Of course I want you to,” Spencer replied, his words followed by a small yawn as sleep started to take hold of him too.

“Looks like it’s official then. I’m your girlfriend, you’re my boyfriend. Now, get some rest, my sweet boy.”

It wasn’t until the following evening, after a full day spent with Y/N on their first official date—a trip to the museum and lunch at his favorite restaurant—that he noticed something tucked into his pocket. A giddy grin spread across Spencer’s face as he unfolded the lacy pink panties, a small note tucked inside that read: For you to take on your next case. ;) xoxo - Y/N.

Spencer glanced down at the fabric in his hands, a soft chuckle escaping him as he silently thanked whatever force had made her the one to fill the vacant apartment across from his.

Continued A/N’s and tag list!! <3: Big big thank you to everyone that enjoyed part one and came back to read part two :’) And thank you to everyone that wanted to be tagged!! If you guys would like for me to start doing an official tag list, please let me know :’) <3 @halfbloodwriter , @opheliahotchner , @mothgrrrl666 , @silver138, @elliet1ou

REMINDER: I do not give permission for my work to be re-uploaded to any other platforms (c.ai, Tiktok, ao3, etc.) under any circumstances. If you'd like to translate my work, then please just ask me before doing so. I know it sounds whiny, but I (as well as many other fanfic writers) spend so much time on these and it's genuinely not okay to take credit for work that isn't yours. It's insulting and completely unnecessary. If I do see my work uploaded anywhere without explicit permission, I WILL say something.

[baptismbaby]

★ ⁺.𝘜𝘕𝘗𝘜𝘕𝘐𝘚𝘏𝘈𝘉𝘓𝘌

toxic!ellie x reader summary: you and ellie are on and off constantly and have been for years. but you can’t stop coming back for more… until finally, you’ve just had enough. warnings: this one is gonna be PRETTY rough. slight age gap but nothing toooo crazy (reader is 21, ellie is 28). ellie isn’t just toxic but she’s also kinda insane. Weird as hell matter of fact. slapping, choking/breath control, hair pulling, strap(r!receiving), fingering (r!receiving). ellie is manipulative. ellie’s bit of a player but doesn’t actually physically cheat. she just flirts w other girls smh my head (fr irritated over this fact as if i aint the one who’s writing her this way) note: listen to unpunishable & crush-stripped by ethel cain. hope u guys enjoy the ride Wc: 5.1k<3

God, you hated and worshipped Ellie at the same time. She was simultaneously the worst and best person you’ve ever met. You remember how infatuated with her you were when you were a senior in high school. She was the town’s local mechanic. The shop was owned by her step dad, Joel Miller, who did a lot for the school you attended. You would see her pretty often due to the shitbox you drove back then. You were only seventeen at the time so she never seemed too interested in you but would compliment you here and there when she wasn’t being dry. You thought she looked so cool with her oil covered hands, marlboro red stuck between her chapped lips, and camo jacket sleeves pushed up to her elbows to reveal her tattoos and randomly placed scars. You thought you were in over your head, trying so hard to catch her attention knowing she was bit of a whore who fucked women and pushed them aside. You’d wear short skirts that revealed your ass with the tiniest gust of wind and low cut crop tops. You’d linger around to watch her work on your engine, eyeing her skilled fingers and later touching yourself to the thought of them. You wanted her to really notice you and give you a chance, even if it meant she’d treat you how she did all the other women. Just a random fuck.

On your eighteenth birthday, you made sure you would run into her at some point during the day to let her know you were officially an adult. You remember being crushed when she laughed and rolled her eyes at you, informing you that you were still too young for her. But it didn’t stop you from getting what you wanted. You showed up pretty often at her job for six months after that until you got a new car. Ellie noticed your absence and went looking for you at your college. When she showed up to your dorm, it was from there the two of you formed a relationship. In the beginning, Ellie was quite gentle with you. It shocked you at first considering her reputation but you adored every second of it. You were fine if she used you too and Ellie knew that. After a while, that was what Ellie really loved most about you. How you were willing to try filthy things with Ellie just to please her, whether you liked it or not, and how you dressed how Ellie told you.

But Ellie always gets bored after a period of time, always needing something to happen so she isn’t in a routine. So she broke up with you right before your nineteenth birthday. To this day, your reaction to the news is still one of the best moments of Ellie’s life. You couldn’t stop blowing up her phone, begging her to come back. Showing up at her job and at her house just to ask her to tell you what you did wrong. It wasn’t until one day, you pushed past her and went straight to her bedroom, that she actually took you back. Walking in to see you fully undressed and on your knees waiting for her made her melt. You were wrapped around her finger completely and would do anything to please her. Even if it meant Ellie was just using you.

Once again, Ellie was acting strange. You knew this meant she was about to break up with you and you mentally started preparing yourself for it. You created scenarios in your head and created a script on what to say when she finally does it and how you would come back to her this time. You often considered just waiting for her to come to you but were too afraid that she wouldn’t. You needed her more than you’d like to admit and it’d kill you if she didn’t take you back or wanted you. 

Ellie took you to the bar to “dance,” she said. But you were left alone for a whole half hour, downing a variety of fruity cocktails until you could hardly see.

“Ellie,” you slurred under your breath, looking side to side to see if she was nearby. “Where the fuck are you?”

You stumbled out of your seat and stood up straight, pulling down on your skirt a bit before slowly walking through the crowd. You kept gently bumping into people which felt like you were being pushed due to how drunk you were. You’d hiccup out an apology before continuing your search. You stopped when you noticed a girl towered over another one against a wall, her hand brushing up and down the woman’s side. You thought your blurry eyes deceived you but from this distance, it looked like Ellie. Ellie was a lot of things but she sure as hell wasn’t a cheater. You began to tip toe over, too nervous for the unknown couple to see you so it wouldn’t seem as if you were being a creep if it wasn’t Ellie. But the more your eyes focused, you could see her camo jacket and messy short hair clearly. Your heart sank to your stomach, tears filling up your eyes and threatening to fall down. But the sadness that engulfed your heart quickly turned into anger. 

“Ellie!” you roared, catching her attention. She didn’t jump or seem surprised. She just sent you a sly smile while backing away from the girl who looked at you like you were crazy.

“Relax,” yelled Ellie calmly over the music. “We’re just talking. Making friendly conversation.”

“Yeah, too friendly!”

“What, I’m not allowed to talk to other people?”

“Who is that, Ellie? Your girlfriend?” the other girl questioned.

Ellie eyed you up and down with a smirk. Perfect, she thought. “Nah,” Ellie drawed out. “Just some chick.”

“Some chick? Some chick?!” you screeched. At this point, the whole bar was watching everything go down. Someone was already out looking for the shit security so they could put a stop to it.

“Yeah, some chick,” Ellie spat out at you. “Go get a ride home and leave me alone.”

Something took over you in that moment. You were used to Ellie’s little games but this was new. This was different. You didn’t care about the other toxic shit she did but this was unacceptable. You didn’t prepare yourself for this and was unsure what to do. Without a second thought, you charged towards her and back handed her so hard she lost her balance. She fell against the wall, her hand clutched to her cheek and eyes wide. You’ve never seen that expression on Ellie’s face before. She was so stoic, nonchalant and cool. You weren’t sure if it was hurt you were seeing or if she was impressed that you actually hit her.

“You wanna be that way, Ellie? Huh? Fine! I’ll leave you to it!”

Before you could say anything else, a pair of strong arms wrapped around you and picked you up. “Hey, let her go, you don’t have to do that asshole!” you heard Ellie shout from behind you. You were steady beating and kicking the man but he kept a firm grip on you. Before you knew it, you were on your back and you yelped out in pain. “What the fuck, man?”

You opened your eyes to see Ellie shoving the security man inside, hearing him say something about calling the police. Ellie turned towards you and kneeled down. “You okay?”

She tried helping you up but you shoved her hand off, getting up on your own and backing away from her. “Leave… me… alone! God, this is all your fault!”

Ellie’s face dropped in anger. “You’re the one who fucking hit me!”

“Whatever, Ellie! I don’t want to talk about this anymore! I want you out of my life!”

“Fine! I’ll call you an uber and I’ll stay the fuck out of your life!”

While the two of you sat on the ground waiting for your uber, Ellie kept thinking about how happy she was. You hitting her was the last thing she expected and she was proud of you for it. She almost wanted to backtrack and tell you to come home with her, that she’d make it all better. But that wouldn’t be fun. It’s better to see how long it takes for you to break down and come running back. And it didn’t take long at all. The longest time was two and a half days. She suspected you’d think about it and try to hold out for three. The uber finally arrived after what felt like forever. You walked slowly towards it in silence, refusing to look back at Ellie. But once you were in the car, you glanced out the tinted windows. You could’ve swore she was smiling. A real smile, not her usual smirks or pursing her lips together in an awkward “smile” if you could call it that. She genuinely looked happy.

-

Four days had passed since the incident. Ellie was starting to wonder where you were, why you hadn't showed up or called crying. She kept telling herself you were holding out as long as you could.

A week had passed, Ellie was starting to worry. This wasn’t like you. Ellie’s house felt so empty without you, she felt like she would go crazy any second. She started spending the days on the couch in the living room, watching the door carefully and waiting for you to burst through it.

Two weeks. For the first time since she was a kid, Ellie was distraught. Confused. Hurt. Where were you? She was fighting the urge to call and text you. Now, this wasn’t like Ellie. Real feelings, wanting to skip work to show up at your door and beg for you to come back. She’d get on her knees if you asked, she’d kiss your feet and try her best to reason with you. She was willing to feel uncomfortable in her own skin just to get you back. 

Three weeks, Ellie started calling your phone. The first time it immediately went to voicemail. Ellie slammed her phone down on the floor and watched it shatter. Fine, you don’t want to talk? You’ll never be able to reach her again. Now, you’ll have to show up and boy did she want you to show up. She had so many thoughts she needed to let out, she needed to blame you for this when deep down she knew it was her fault.

One month. Ellie had gotten a new phone and was now texting you off an app.

where the fuck are you???

why wont you come over

why would u block me

what the fuck

wheres my sweet girl

i need you.

The texts popping up on your phone concerned you. You knew it was Ellie. You were done with her for good but you weren’t expecting her to reach out to you ever. You were devastated, crying yourself to sleep every night wondering why you were never good enough for her. She was cold. You knew that before you got with her, why were you so stupid to keep trying to get her attention? You just wished you could go back in time and change everything. 

please baby

come home

“Who’s that?” your mother asked as she entered the room.

“Ellie… I think I should go see her,” you said with a sigh.

“Honey, when is enough enough?”

You ignored your mom, walking past her and heading towards your bedroom. You shoved on your shoes and grabbed your keys, once again ignoring your mom’s warnings as you left the house. Maybe it’ll be different this time. It had to be.

-

You parked in Ellie’s driveway, sitting there for a second after turning off the ignition to collect yourself. You weren’t sure what you were walking into. A part of you was excited to see Ellie. You missed her terribly. But the other part of you was scared. Could you control yourself and not fall back into her arms? Is it possible that you really can be independent and move on with your life? You stepped out of the car and made your way towards the door, reaching up to knock. You flinched when it swung open, revealing Ellie with a slight crazed look in her eye. When she saw you standing there, looking exhausted and sad, she let out a sigh of relief. “Baby,” she whispered, holding the door wide open so you could come in. You walked inside and passed her, ignoring her open arms. 

“Come here,” she spoke once again after shutting the door. “Please?”

“Ellie… I just wanted to check on you, that’s all. I wanted to see if you were okay.”

“I’m not okay. You didn’t come back to me. I thought something was wrong.”

“There is something wrong.”

“Tell me,” she breathed, rushing towards you and gently grabbing your face. Her thumb began to caress your cheek, a gesture she hasn’t done since the two of you first started going out. You clenched your eyes shut and let out a shaky breath. You so badly wanted to fall apart. Maybe she’d listen to you this time and comfort you. Maybe she would change. “Baby, please.”

“You were flirting with another girl, Ellie. There’s a lot I can tolerate, a lot I can handle, but not that”

“You know I didn’t mean it.”

“But it hurt me,” you responded, your voice cracking. A tear slipped down your face, Ellie quickly catching it with her thumb.

“I know, baby.”

“You ruined me…”

“Shh,” Ellie cooed, pulling your body against hers and resting her chin on your shoulder. “I know, baby. I know I did.”

“I don’t know why I’m this way,” you wept softly. “When is enough… enough?”

Ellie knew she finally did it this time. It made her heart ache. She was used to seeing you cry but this made her want to cry with you. She realized just how fucked in the head she was, hurting the only girl who ever truly loved her and looked past her flaws. Hurting the only girl she ever loved and still loves. Despite being together for years, Ellie couldn’t remember a time she told you that. It was always you saying it to her, Ellie responding with an “I know, me too.” But she can’t actually think of a time when she said it outright. She had to force herself to face her feelings if she wanted to keep you. She needed to stop playing her little games on you, pushing you away just to drag you along once you came crawling back. Ellie finally understood that she can’t live without you. And that meant having to change for you, do right by you, and be a better woman to you. You changed so much for her, it was only fair for her to do the same.

“You know I love you, right?” Ellie muttered. You froze, your grip on Ellie tightening.

“You… you wh-what?”

“I love you,” Ellie repeated. “I never say it but I do. I’m… an idiot.” She pulled away so she could look you in the eye. “I know I fuck up… a lot. I don’t want to do that again. I want to be better.”

You weren’t sure what to say. It meant a lot to hear that from Ellie. You knew she wouldn’t say it if she didn’t mean it, either. It was obvious to you from the beginning that Ellie was awkward discussing and being open about her feelings. Hell, most of the things you knew about her came from her step dad, Joel. She refused to talk about her past or talk about anything too personal. In all reality, you only knew the Ellie with the walls she built around herself. This was a huge step for her. And you wanted the wall to collapse even further. You wanted her to give herself completely to you as you’ve done with her.

You decided that words weren’t enough. Instead, you pressed your lips against hers, moaning softly at the contact. God, you missed her lips. Ellie’s arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you closer, deepening the kiss. Her nails dug into your slightly exposed hip bone, causing you to whine. Soon enough, Ellie was picking you up and taking you to her bedroom. She threw you on the bed and crawled over you, eyes taking all of you in before stealing another kiss from you. The makeout session was sorta rough and messy, the two of you clawing at each other and groaning, desperate to be closer. 

“What do you need from me, baby?” Ellie asked between kisses.

“Hurt me… please, Ellie… hurt me.”

Ellie wasted no time grabbing a handful of your hair and yanking it back, forcing you to look at her. You moaned loudly, watching her carefully with your mouth hung open. She used her thumb to part your lips more before shoving it inside, making you suck and bite on her thumb.

“Do you think anyone else would have you if they knew how dirty you are?” Ellie asked in a condescending tone. You shook your head no. “Atta girl.” She pulled you towards her until you were sat up straight. She grabbed the bottom of your shirt and yanked it roughly over your head, throwing it down to the ground. You lifted up your hips to make it easier for Ellie to pull off your pants and underwear in one swift movement. “Fuck, baby. This mess for me?”

“Ellie-” Ellie cut you off with a slap before wrapping her hand around your throat, pressing the sides of your neck gently.

“All I need is a yes or no, got that?”

“Y-Yes,” you whined.

Ellie let you go and leaned forward to give you another kiss before shoving you back down. She hovered over you, her free hand travelling down your body until it reached your throbbing cunt. She pressed a finger against your clit, watching in awe as your body jolted from the contact. “You want more, pretty girl?”

“Please?”

Ellie smirked, bringing her fingers down to your entrance and pushing them in roughly. She placed her thumb on your clit and began rubbing in circles while her fingers slowly curled up inside you, going in and out. You arched your back in pleasure, groaning at the agonizingly slow pace she was going. It felt so good that you were almost lightheaded and the slow pace almost made it feel tortuous. 

“Fuck, I missed you like crazy. I was going insane without you. I was convinced I would die without you,” Ellie whispered in your ear. “I missed your pretty cunt. I missed how desperate you are for me. Are you still desperate for me?”

“Mmm, yes, Ellie, I-I am.”

“Hm.. I don’t think so. If you were, you would’ve been back in my bed weeks ago. You would’ve gotten this every night. Instead, you had your fingers and imagination and that’s just useless. It isn’t me.”

Ellie’s breathing grew heavy as she watched you get off on her fingers, your hips bucking up and down, needing for her to speed up. But she refused. She liked it better when you fucked yourself against her.

“You know I just wanted to piss you off. Tell me you know that, baby. Tell me.”

“I-I know, I know,” you moaned.

“No other woman could ever take your place. You’re my angel,” said Ellie. You opened your eyes to look at her, almost falling apart to see her eyes staring down at you with an unfamiliar softness. Something changed in Ellie while the two of you were apart. It was a good change. A change you hoped stayed.

“Fuck me, please E-Ellie. I need… I need to feel you inside me,” you mumbled out. “Please!”

Ellie wasted no time getting her fingers out of you, sucking them clean and moaning at the taste of you. She began to quickly undress herself, going to the drawer to take out the harness and toy. She slipped it on once she was finished putting it together and made her way towards you. She grabbed your hair, tugging it until you understood that she wanted you to stand up and get on your knees.

“Get it ready, baby,” she demanded, placing the tip of her strap on your bottom lip.

“But Ellie, I-I’m so wet already… please, I need you.”

Ellie gave you a quick yet harsh slap, shoving her fingers inside your mouth to open it. She pushed the strap inside, sighing at the sight of her cock in your mouth.

“I don’t care how wet you are, I just love facefucking you.”

You slowly bobbed your head back and forth, looking up at Ellie through your eyelashes. Ellie placed her hands on either side of your head and began to push you further down, thrusting her hips forward. The sight of you on your knees while Ellie fucks your face was enough for Ellie to believe she could cum by just watching you do this. She knew if she didn’t look away, she probably would. Especially when tears started to fill your eyes. She pulled it out, leaning down to your level to give you a sloppy kiss.

“You’re so beautiful,” Ellie said when she broke the kiss. “I want you to bend over at the edge of the bed, okay baby?”

“Yes ma’am,” you responded, receiving a good girl from Ellie. You stood up and went to the side of the bed, bending over and slightly arching your back. You felt Ellie’s hands caress your ass before giving it a smack. You jumped at the contact and moaned, shivering as a rush of excitement ran through you. You felt the tip of Ellie’s strap brush against your entrance. Ellie thrusted harshly into you, moaning out at the sound of you calling her name.

“Is this what you needed?” Ellie asked, pulling out to thrust into you harder.

“Fuck!” you whined, gripping onto the bed sheets.

Ellie began fucking you roughly, at a speed that was so unbearable yet you couldn’t get enough. “Is it? Hm? Is this what you needed?”

You tried to answer but couldn’t. The only thing you could do was whine louder, the feeling of Ellie’s cock slamming into you making your brain foggy. You could only focus on one thing at a time and answering a question was the last thing on your mind. Ellie wrapped both of her hands around your neck and pulled you back, forcing you to arch even more. You let out a whimper at the sudden contact, unable to breath as the blood rushed to your head.

“You can’t be a braindead whore already,” Ellie spat out. “Tell me this is what you needed or I’ll stop.”

“I.. needed… th-this,” you gasped out, squeezing your eyes shut as you started to feel lightheaded. Ellie let go, smirking as you took a deep breath, your head dropping to the mattress from feeling too heavy. You could hardly think or even feel relief from being able to breathe again. Ellie wasn’t letting up, only fucking you harder and deeper that you were convinced she would tear you apart. The room was filled with the most obscene, filthiest noises. If anyone were to walk by the house, they’d probably think someone was watching porn on full volume. Or that someone was getting murdered.

“That’s it, sweet girl,” Ellie praised. “Taking every inch of my cock so well.”

You felt your legs start to wobble, unable to hold yourself up from how weak you were getting. “E-Ellie, please, I can’t hold m-myself up… anymore… please!”

“You can take it baby, I know you can,” Ellie encouraged you. But you couldn’t. You really couldn’t. You barely raised your head just enough to catch a glimpse of you and Ellie in the mirror in front of you. Fuck, the expression on her face as she fucked you made you whine even more. You couldn’t take your eyes off of her, glancing back and forth between her face and her tits bouncing. It wasn’t long until you felt close, your moans getting raspy as your voice gave out, your breathing uneven and legs trembling.

Ellie grabbed your hair and yanked your head up, forcing you to make eye contact with her through the mirror. She leaned forward and pressed her lips against your ear, kissing it softly and biting it afterwards. “I want you to watch yourself come undone for me,” she whispered. “Hold on a little longer. You’ve been taking my cock so well, keep going, baby.”

“I-I c-can’t!”

“Yes you can, don’t think about anything else. Just let go, I’ll keep you up.”

In a swift movement, Ellie pushed you forward slightly so that your left knee was on the mattress and grabbed your right leg to hold against her hip. While it relieved you to be off your feet, this new and strange position only made her go deeper. You cried out in pleasure, almost going crazy feeling your orgasm build up. You were so desperate for release, ready to collapse onto the bed and catch your breath. Ellie kept your head held up by your hair, her nails digging into your right thigh as she picked up the pace. It wasn’t only but a few seconds after that that you were cumming, screaming out her name and attempting to pull yourself away from Ellie by clawing at the bedsheets. Ellie let go of your hair and leg, wrapping her arms around your waist and pulling you back so that her cock was fully in you again. It was unbearable feeling her still thrusting inside of you, riding out your high.

“Don’t fight it, baby,” she said.

You gave up and crumbled beneath her, letting her slowly thrust into you as you started to come down. “Just like that… good girl.”

Ellie finally pulled out but kept her arms around you, picking you up and setting you on your feet. She turned you around to kiss you, her tongue going in circles around yours. She laid you down onto the bed and broke the kiss to lay next to you.

“Fuck,” you whined out, receiving a chuckle from Ellie. “I thought you were going to kill me.”

“You’re dramatic,” Ellie said with a playful scoff. “I fuck you that hard all the time.”

“Not… like that.”

“Mhm, like that.”

Ellie pulled you against her side, your head now resting on her bare chest. You focused on her heartbeat and smiled. You missed the sound of her heart beating. It soothed you to sleep every night. As if you were conditioned to it, you felt your eyes grow heavy and shut them, wanting nothing more than to fall asleep.

“Hey, did I say I was done?”

Your eyes shot open. Before you knew it, Ellie was pulling you on top of her. “I’m sleepy, Ellie,” you said with a yawn.

“I’ll let you sleep in a minute… I want you to ride me. You haven’t in so long. I know you can take it.”

Even though you wanted nothing more than to ride her, you were pretty convinced that you wouldn’t be able to. You were so weak from before, just now catching your breath.

“You know I’m not gonna push you if you can’t take it,” Ellie reassured. “But if you really think you can’t right now, that’s okay. I’ll hold you while you sleep.”

You gave Ellie a sleepy smile before bringing your hips up and lining the tip of her strap to your entrance. Ellie’s eyes widened. She wasn’t expecting that. She thought you would lay back down. She watched in awe as you slid down her length, whining out at the feeling of her filling you up once again. 

“My sweet girl,” Ellie whispered. “No matter how tired you are, you just can’t get enough of my cock, can you?”

You hummed out a response, slowly bouncing up and down on her strap. Your legs trembled as you tried picking up the pace.

“Hey, c’mere,” Ellie held out her arms, letting you lay down on her chest. “We can go as slow as you’d like.”

You nestled your face in Ellie’s neck as you slowly rocked your hips back and forth, whimpering softly as her tip brushed against your cervix. It was sore but so sensitive, enough to already send you over the edge again. But you didn’t want that yet. This softness Ellie had in her all of the sudden made you want to ride this out as long as you could. Even when you lost her virginity to her, she was gentle but not intimate whatsoever. But this was. You could feel the warmth in your chest growing more and more, loving this new feeling. You were so used to everything else that you never thought you’d want it to be this way. But with Ellie’s hands on your hips guiding you up and down slowly as she pressed kisses along your temple every now and then made you pray that something like this could happen again. You loved the pain Ellie made you feel, you loved being nothing but her fucktoy. But now, especially now, you knew you would need and want this too sometimes.

“Does it hurt?” Ellie asked, bringing one of her hands up your spine all the way to the back of your head. She caressed it gently, making you lift your head up and make eye contact with her. Her brows furrowed at the sight of tears in your eyes. “Wait, is this too much?”

“N-No,” you stuttered. “This is perfect. It’s… new.”

Ellie smiled. You grinned back at her, leaning down to kiss her softly. “I l-love you, Ellie.”

“I know, me…” Ellie paused and shut her eyes for a second. “I love you too.” As you continued to slowly ride her, you kept thinking that this is all you’ve ever wanted. To be enough for Ellie. Maybe you were stupid to feel it now, knowing that at any moment she could pull away again. And because of that, you knew you had to soak this all in. Focus extra hard on the things you don’t want to forget so that when she does leave, and you knew she probably would despite finally telling you she loved you, you’d have something beautiful to hold onto until you were back in her arms again.

[queervegancryptid]

Joker and I agree on one thing, I guess.

Following you and a couple other people on here has made it clear that I really need to read more comics. As a kid, I was raised in a rural area by conservative parents. Not outright abusive, mostly, but definitely not people I could be myself around, and basically anytime I was enthusiastic about something, people gave me shit for it. So if childhood was an exercise in learning to hide in plain sight in order to survive, adulthood for me has been a journey of letting myself be myself and explore stuff I wasn't allowed to explore as a kid.

It's also been a journey of realizing how much the adults in my life fully failed me as a kid. I only really understood how much their shit affected me when I first really felt loved and accepted by someone, without having to hide, and that didn't happen until I was past 30. Now that I'm able to start making moves to sort my shit out, the Orange Menace is being sworn in, so there are about to be more forces than ever invested in keeping me miserable and beaten down.

So in a very real sense, I'm scared about what's happening politically. I'm angry, too, for obvious reasons, many of which are not personal to me. I don't have to be an undocumented immigrant to think they should be treated with basic human decency, for example. I don't have to be Jewish to be horrified by people chanting shit about them. I don't have to be a target at all to give a fuck, but I'm trans, so I have the distinction of being labeled a problem and the knowledge that I'm in one of the last groups that will be defended when shit hits the fan.

But I am angry and frankly annoyed for personal reasons. And one of those reasons is that I spent my life hiding and trying to be acceptable, and when it didn't work, I thought it was my fault. I'm not perfect, but I feel like the deck was stacked against me from the start, and making it my fault was just one big scam to keep me complacent. I'm annoyed that it fucking worked so well and for so long.

The annoyance also comes from the fact that these people are living rent-free in my head and controlling so much of my life. But that's part of how they make you feel helpless, you know? You focus on all the weight they're throwing around, and you get overwhelmed by the brutality and cruelty of it all, and you feel so exhausted that you start to wonder what the hell the point even is of talking about it.

But that's what they want. I've survived out of spite before, and I'll do it again. The last thing they want is for people like you and me to enjoy anything in life and find reasons to keep going, which is exactly why you have to keep finding reasons wherever you can, in whatever form they take. So I'm going to enjoy what I enjoy and explore what I want to explore, because finding some kind of joy and good in the world when and where I can is the only way I'm going to survive all the things that are coming.

Thank you for existing, by the way. Sorry I wrote a book on here. I'm going through some stuff, as you might have guessed lol

🚨WATCH: Donald Trump and JD Vance mockingly laugh at the National Prayer Service when the National Cathedral Bishop proclaims "let us pray for the most vulnerable."

These monsters are the antethesis of what Jesus preached.

[drgnflyteabox]

red ochre [5]

series masterlist previous || part five -> kermes || part six -> madder

pairing: viking goap x fem! nun reader summary: big nun, little nun w.c: 3.5k tags/warnings: guilt, religious / moral turmoil, stockholm syndrome, child abuse (past), scars, simon returns, corruption (past), misogyny (past), whipping (past), blood, suffering (past mostly), power imbalance, freeze response (past), guilt, dissociation, dom/sub dynamics, we're learning consent (kinda? eeh), violent imagery, dubcon/noncon, vaginal fingering, choking, throat grab

When Johnny asks how it felt to go from there – the convent, you think he means – to here, you can only describe it as dunking your hands into ice water. 

Shocking, painful, and prickling all over.

He only says hm, and moves on. His face is pensive. You don’t tell him that sometimes, you wake up and aren’t in the water anymore.

Even in prayer, you hadn’t thought as much as you had since you’d been taken. Hadn’t worried as much. Teachings from adults since youth had told you that everybody was inherently sinful, even children.

So why is the community around you so happy without God? They have their own, you know this, but the multitude of them and their roles in divine hierarchy aren’t necessarily about absolute power.

There are woman-Gods, Gods without designations, Gods for the earth and the children and unions between people. You find it hard to continue calling them heretics, devils, when they’re really just people. Different, yes, strange and incomprehensible, but people nonetheless.

Heathens, you try to think. Heathens, devils. They took you

You wonder when the last time you thought of yourself as just a person was, when you weren’t a thing set within a rigid mold, beaten down in more ways than one.

On the eve of Simon's return you catch Johnny doing something secretive. He's hunched over the table, the tip of his tongue stuck out of his mouth in concentration. The soft sound of scraping, of wood gently knocking is all you can hear over the fire.

“What's that?” you ask, when your curiosity gets the best of you.

Johnny turns, one eye squinted, the every picture of concentration. He holds up a carved figure – a woman, it looks like. Ah, it’s you. Though hard to tell, the woman wears a veil and sits on a chair, hunched.

Your veil. You’d nearly forgotten what it felt like. It used to be a weight, heavy and pressing, a shackle. Now you miss the safety of not feeling so exposed all the time.

Somewhere in the journey here it had been lost, or maybe thrown overboard. Your habit, too, replaced for the woolen Viking-style dresses bought and bartered for by Simon and Johnny. Even you have to admit you enjoy the colours more, even if the conformity of the convent felt safe.

“How long were you watching me?” you breathe, eyes wide and still staring.

“Not long, lamb,” he smiles disarmingly. “Ah just remember ye, sittin’ pretty.”

“Working on the tapestry,” you correct him, though it doesn’t really matter.

He looks back down to his little figure, pensive.

“Ah guess so,” he says jovially.

“It was my punishment,” you add. This probably matters even less, but the clash of worlds has thrown you off balance. You feel unbearably present, unbearably lucid.

I was a nun, you think. Am I still a nun?

“Punishment?” he frowns. “Ah thought they struck ye?”

“Sometimes. But sometimes I had to work extra hard.”

“Like a bairn?”

“A what?”

“A child, lamb,” he smiles again.

You look into the fire, thinking. Punishment applied to everyone, not just children, no? Even Simon and Johnny had punished you. But who had given them the right? Had you, with your secret want? Your secret lustful sin?

“You punished me,” you settle on.

“Aye, we did,” he nods. “Ye needed it.”

“Then why do you… ah, disparage the church for doing the same?”

He turns to you.

“Ah think ye got it all wrong,” he says simply. “We don’t give it to ye to make ye hurt. Aren’t ye better after? Righted?”

Righted. That’s a word worth its weight in gold. As is the truth of his words, but you stay quiet and look into the fire instead of responding.

You take up Johnny’s offer to spend time with Kari. Johnny walks you there, holds your hand in the cold and blows hot air on them as you wait together outside their door.

When Gaz opens it, he hoots and hollers as if the frigid air outside has no effect on him, as if his inner warmth and naturally excitable disposition is no match for the cold.

You have to admire that. At least a little.

“Hi there,” Gaz says to you, a greeting softer than the one he gave Johnny.

“Hello,” you try to subtly peek inside, “it’s… nice to see you.”

He doesn’t take offence to your awkward, stilted attempt at politeness. Maybe he knows you’re not quite comfortable here, to put it lightly, and only claps your shoulder gently to pull you in.

“Have fun!” Johnny shouts, already leaving, “and give me my wife back in one piece!”

That makes you sheepish, but you try to ignore your feelings in favour of moving towards Kari and the little baby, Tyra.

“Hello again,” she greets, smiling. The baby stares at you, babbles ceasing as if she’s seeing you for the first time. Her little head swings towards her mother, hiding despite her clear curiosity.

“You’ve met me before,” you say softly, trying valiantly not to frighten her as you take a seat opposite to Kari.

“She’s feeling shy lately,” Kari looks down and tuts, swiping a thumb over Tyra’s chubby cheek, “needs her mama.”

Weaving here is not much different than weaving at the convent. Once you get the basics down, you’re threading dyed wool into cloth astride Kari.

Some spirit of confidence grips you.

“Will you tell me anything about Simon and Johnny?”

“About-” she lifts her head, “Simon and Johnny? Don’t they speak to you?”

“They - do,” you rush to assure her, though your voice maintains a weary unsureness.

Luckily for you, she gives you a small but comforting smile over the wool.

“You’re looking for an outside opinion? That’s okay, lovely girl, I just might not know as much about them as my husband does,” she gestures with her chin towards Gaz, who walks towards you both.

“What d’you need to know?” he asks casually, sidling up to Kari affectionately, “think they’ll be able to answer better than me.”

“I only really know… what I’ve seen. I haven’t…” your mouth twists as you trail off, frustration germinating as you struggle. Right, you can commit sins of the flesh but you can’t ask a question to sate curiosity — one which might be the difference between surviving and not surviving.

Knowledge is important, after all. Powerful. You think of Eve, who doomed humanity for it, naked as the day she was born and as clueless as Adam yet ate the apple anyway.

“I know they’re… warriors,” you pause, “since they’re all scarred, but—“

“Well, not necessarily—” Kari starts, until Gaz puts a palm on her thigh and gives her a look you can’t discern. 

“That’s not something we should share,” Gaz says tightly, but kindly.

“How else..?” you frown.

Tyra stirs, and Kari gives Gaz another look.

“Simon’s father used to be chief,” she lifts the babe back into her lap, patting, cooing, “it’s not a nice story, but if you need it to understand them better then I don’t mind telling it.”

“I want to know about them,” you insist, trying to push past the sense of danger, the sense that you’ll be hurt or killed for toeing out of line.

Testing the elasticity of safety here perhaps isn’t wise, but testing it might be what you need to settle. Knowing where the boundaries are, what’s expected, where they come from… you wonder if you’ll doom everybody, like Eve.

“Believe it or don’t, but we’ve only just rekindled the hunts, the raids. How it should be,” she starts.

Gaz sighs, leaning back where he’s sitting. You assume his hesitance is out of loyalty for his comrades, but you choose tentatively to ignore him in favour of his wife.

“We had a lazy, drunken leader,” Kari continues, “Simon’s father inherited the title through lineage, not through prowess as is… more natural to us.”

You nod slowly, trying to imagine. In the church, such things were often gained with corruption: any wealthy lords’ son could rise high in the ranks, if he had the money and means.

The convent had somewhat of a similar issue, though the women were ‘married’ into the church and the power rested in the hands of their families. 

Such was the world.

Not always, but you’d heard of it often enough. One of the abbots of the monastery in the closest town had been the son of an affluent donator, and thus received power of authority over the other monks.

“To make a long story short, and more respectful to Simon—” Gaz looks at her then “—his father was needlessly cruel both to his own children, his wife, and to those he was responsible for.”

“So, those scars…?”

“Some are from fighting, of course. But usually, no one’s getting close enough to those two to land that kind of damage. I’m sure you can fill in the rest.”

Gaz butts in here,  “or, you can ask him yourself.”

“How did that woman, I forgot her name, come to be chief?” you frown in thought.

Gaz takes over again, his hand dragging up from the small of his wife's back and squeezing her nape. It’s as much of a warning as you’ve seen, though it’s quiet and Kari looks sheepish, not afraid, “Kate challenged him.”

“A challenge?” you frown, “such as?”

“A fight to the death.”

“Oh,” your lips close, and thin, and your eyebrows fly up. “I didn’t realize… I mean, violence is…”

They don’t do you the courtesy of filling in for you, so you go silent and the air settles.

Johnny picks you up later, when you’ve helped Kari with a big portion of her weaving. You love the threads, the dyeing process. It’s meditative.

“Good ?” Johnny nudges your side, slipping a hand to just above your waist, fingers tickling the side of your breast.

“Yes,” and it’s honest.

He walks you home, hand in hand, and cannot stop talking about Simon's return.

“Ah’ve never been without him this long,” he rambles over the fire, stirring a potato soup, “think yer gonnae be witness to something dirty. Sorry, lamb.”

Only he’s grinning, and he’s not sorry, and you can see the front of his pants begin to tent.

Johnny later offers you that very same sin, tilting his hips towards you and swinging his cock obscenely, cheekily. You do not take him up on it despite the smolder that begins between your legs – you simply turn, and try to sleep through the sounds of his self-abuse.

Simon returns without much fanfare, slipping into the house with a seemingly practiced silence. He moves like a ghost.

Johnny doesn't wake yet, sleeping like an affectionate log behind you.

His gaze meets yours, as impassive as always, framed in a halo of white winter light. He looks handsome this way, though it also has the effect of making his scars look deeper – crevasses on his face for shadows to lay in.

You watch as he strips his winter garments, slipping then beside you, evening out the weight on the bed.

“How did it go?” you whisper. If he's surprised that you spoke he doesn't show it, staring up at the ceiling, muscles decompressing. Sighing like a big dog.

In lieu of speaking, he lifts something into your focus. Oh, it's a tooth, sharp and white. A predator's tooth.

“The rest tomorrow,” he says quietly.

You can tell he's tired. His face looks weary. How far do they travel for these hunts? You assume quite far, as it’s enough to tire even a seasoned warrior.

So, rather than speaking, asking him from which creature he took this tooth, you tentatively reach your hand up to press your fingers against his thick scars.

Simon freezes, as do you. Then, as he relaxes, you trace the grooves on his face with your fingers tightly. Very lightly.

A delicate moment is born then. Johnny's deep, sleepy breathing behind you, Simon's acquiescence – it's a tranquil thing. As thin as lace, as sweet as a crisp apple.

After some time, when you've traced his face twice over and his eyes are half-lidded, you speak softly.

“Why me?”

“You're beautiful,” he says simply, sighing again, “we wanted to.”

It becomes harder, again, to hold the belief of them as devils. That they smelled the sin on you and picked you that way.

“Don't you think it's cruel?”

“No,” finally, he turns to you.

“It was,” you assert recklessly. Fear twists in your gut, poisonous.

“You were scared.”

“Yes.”

“Are you still scared?”

“I feel like you can see right through me. That scares me.”

“Not at first.”

“Then when?”

His hand finds the dip of your waist. Squeezes.

“On the boat, when you pushed up against me like a wet kitten. Even scared, you needed it.”

“You were cruel to me then, too.”

“I’m a cruel man.”

There's a stray thought that wiggles to life in the back of your head that suggests sympathy for him despite his statement. That you can begin seeing the path of his life and understand how he came to be.

You think of punishment again; about parents and children, husband's and wives, about Simon and his father. That wasn't punishment, if you're understanding it the way Kari implied.

A memory strikes you, unbidden and unwelcome. 

Salt blows in the air,  metallic and thick in your nose. Not sea salt, not the wind you love so much, but from blood spraying. 

The man brought his son to the convent, citing his bad behaviour as ungodly. Sister Margret was pleading with him, hands clasped in desperate prayer and voice high, reedy, as she begged him to just stop hitting him – please, just stop hitting him!

The boy cowered. Not a child, but a boy nonetheless. Young enough to make an impression, round-cheeked, on the cusp of manhood. Stained with blood.

He lifted the rope, again and again and again, even as Margret leapt for his arm and tried to stop him, pulling, shouting.

You were stock still, frozen, not even a tremble in your body. Your eyes had widened when he first struck the boy and you’d been stuck since.

Simon takes your hand, peels it away from your dress, pulling you bodily towards him and out of the memory.

With your cheek pressed close to his bare shoulder, you murmur, “did you take me to hurt me?”

“No,” he says, sounding for once like he isn’t hiding anything.

“Did you hit me to really hurt me?”

“No,” he repeats, then, “I hit you because you needed it, because you liked it.”

“I’ve seen…” you don’t continue.

“I know.”

“We’ve both been hurt,” your voice is a whisper.

“Mm,” Simon confirms.

You think of the boy. Of his father. Of his terrified, deer-like eyes, blood splattered on his back and on the ground and soaked into the rope – about how four townsmen had to pull his father away for fear of killing the boy.

How you felt when you hit yourself, when the abbess hit you, how different they were to when Simon took his palm to your ass.

Shame. That had been in the boy's eyes that day. He had hid his face in his arms, cowering not only from fear but from being seen.

You’d felt that same shame each time you’d been punished, intensifying, twisting together until you’d learned to turn the same pain inwards.

 “Are you afraid of being seen?” you murmur to Simon.

“No.”

You don’t have to say the silent part; that you’re the afraid one. That Simon correctly interpreting your need for a different kind of control, one that let you lose yourself, felt like you’d been flayed for all to see.

Simon moves his hand lower, cupping the soft curve of your behind, staring at you, testing the waters. You know that if you said no, he might anyways, but you stay quiet as his fingers lift the hem of your dress.

The fabric slides over your skin, a whisper in the air, tickling you. He rubs his rough, hairy knuckles against your thigh close to where it meets your leg.

He pauses there, breathing slowly, before he slides a finger up your slit and through the thatch of hair above it.

“If I made a request,” you murmured, “would you grant it?”

“Make it, and I’ll tell you.”

He slips a finger to rub your hole, just outside, teasing, while his thumb finds your clit.

“I don’t want you to take me until we’re man and wife… men and wife.”

Simon hums, rubs gently, makes your hips undulate.

“Do you think you’re in a place to be making requests like that, love?”

“I haven’t asked for anything else.”

He raises a brow, sliding his finger inside you to the knuckle when you’re wet enough.

“Haven’t you?”

Your breathing deepens, hands coming down to hold his thick wrist, pulling almost subconsciously. Even now, you can’t totally let go, leaning away from him and the pleasure.

But he understands, leaning over you, using his other hand to pin you to the mattress by your throat. It’s not the nicest hold, but the burning of your lungs heightens the pulsing in your cunt.

“Think you just made a few requests right now,” he grunts, using your leg to rub his hard, clothed cock.

There’s a stirring beside you. Johnny groans as he wakes up, then laughs sleepily.

“Ah woke up just in time,” his voice is rough with sleep.

Simon hums, mmm, in that deep rumble of his. He slips another finger inside you, crooking them, making you gasp raggedly. Your hands still clutch his wrist, weaker now, but it’s half resistance half comfort.

“Mm, good girl,” Johnny murmurs. He curls into your side, cock growing against your hip, wrapping a leg around you while his hand climbs beneath your pulled up dress and palms your tit.

God, you could die just like this: fighting for breath, touched all over, held down and made free. The hate you had for them feels irrelevant, the fear, the brutal way in which they stole you.

You can’t even think about if Simon will disregard your request – your last frontier against them, the treasure between your legs for a husband only.

Simon’s knuckle deep in it, but still, you can’t let go of that final tether. Not yet, not without any other internal pillars to hold you up.

Everything else has been wiped away. Drawings in the sand on a beach swept by foamy white waves.

Johnny leans in and bites your shoulder, gnawing, hips moving against you. You can’t arch like you want to, but you try.

Wet, sinful sounds grow as you gush around Simon’s fingers, as they use you to get off.

When you peak, white spots dance in your vision, mouth open in a silent scream choked away by Simon's heavy palm.

It’s like flying.

In the afternoon, when you’ve all slept, Simon leaves to speak with John and you prepare lunch with Johnny.

More fish, more potatoes. It’s growing on you.

When Simon returns, he has in his arms a rolled up fur. Though unprocessed and still wet underneath, it’s beautiful, pale, spotted.

He takes a heavy seat in front of you, laying the skin over his knees, taking your hand in his and bringing it to the fur.

Soft. Dense. Your fingers move through the pelt.

“For you,” Simon says.

You look up at him, heart dancing.

His gifts. The apple, the orgasms, this– you don’t know what to make of it. Yes, it’s a kindness, but he’s a cruel man. He’d said so himself, and you’d felt the brunt of it.

Leaning into that cruelty has given you a strange power, a strange solidity. You’d so begun to familiarize yourself with his harshness that you’d forgotten this complexity.

You pinch the fur, feeling it between your fingers, breathing slowly. Your neck ached, but it wasn’t a bad ache; it felt like a phantom hand.

“For me?”

Johnny slides three bowls on the table, grinning.

“Yer first wedding gift,” he says jovially.

 “Oh, I see,” you murmur, but it isn’t a disappointed oh.

Simon leaves later again, full of soup, to process the rest of the hunt’s boon with John. He takes the pelt with him, a snowcat pelt you’ve learned.

Yet, he’d returned with not much more than scratches on him from travel. Tired, yes, but a few hours of sleep and splattering his spend on your belly had fixed that earlier.

You’d bathed, since, though the feeling was hard to shake.

Johnny putters about again, returning to his carving of the little mini you. A peek into the past, one you no longer embodied.

“Can I see when you’re done?” you ask, slipping your favourite wool dress on. The red, well worn one. Soft, comforting. 

“Course,” he mumbles, concentrating. Then, his head shoots up.

“Ye want one o’ Simon ‘n’ I, lamb? Carry us around?” Only it sounds like aroond.

You nod, walking on socked feet to where he’s carving.

“Yes.”

[avonne-writes]

Ooo what about HS Bucky’s hair journey? Does he always have his curls or shave it, bleach it etc?

Gale's hair journey

Hahaha okay, let's see! 😄

1. Bucky has fluffy, messy curls all through high school. His mom cuts his hair herself, and he usually tries to get out of it because he’s lazy about it and doesn’t want to sit still. He’s one of those boys who only knows that conditioners exist because his mom uses them. He pretty much just leaves his hair alone, except for a few dates in the beginning of his and Gale's relationship, when he tries to comb it straight - with questionable results. Gale has a secret kink for seeing Bucky's hair stick to his sweaty forehead, it turns him on.

2. In college, Bucky gets wild. He’s excited to be an adult, to be able to make his own decisions and to experiment. He gets his hair bleached, gets an ombre, dyes it green, red, even pink one time, gets a buzzcut to complete a dare... He is a sight. (Gale doesn’t mind.) Bucky also enjoys wearing shirts that put the most amusing, exasperated looks on Gale’s face. He calms down in his senior year.

3. After graduation and his and Gale's wedding, Bucky starts working full time. He’s ambitious and wants to be regarded positively, so he starts putting some effort into actually caring for his hair. He keeps his curls slightly longer.

4. He grows a mustache and keeps it most of the time in the second half of his twenties. Gale loves it (loves this period in their lives in general), and he finds this one of Bucky's hottest looks. He likes Bucky a little messy.

5. In his mid-thirties, Bucky switches to a shorter haircut, which Gale likes less than the fluffy curls, but it's easier to keep it neat. Since Bucky's going up in the corporate ranks, it's more efficient to keep it like this.

6. Later on, when Bucky enters his silver fox era, Gale's really into it. He loves the way it looks on him and encourages him to let his curls grow and leave them their natural mix of silver and dark.

[durgeapologist]

I'm confused, durge. Do you like Solrook or Solavellan? Your post bashing Solavellans contradicts your recent reblogs defending them. What are your actual thoughts on these ships? Because I cannot tell.

alright i feel like this needs to be said here and now. buckle up because this is long, and probably the only time i will be commenting on this ever again.

i do not hate the solavellan ship. i have stated many times across all my socials that i used to be a hardcore solavellan shipper. i am IN LOVE with my lavellan. i literally started playing the dragon age series because i heard about the betrayal in solas' dai romance, and i am a sucker for angst. i played through dao and da2 just to romance him with my lavellan in dai.

when dav came out, first day of release, i set my world state up to be solavellan. i redeemed him and sent her off to the fade with him. point blank.

however, even before i started shipping dreadrook, i was wary of solavellan FANS. not the ship, the FANS. i am a solas lover to the ends of the earth and back. i can get behind ANY ships that involve him. what i cannot, and will not ever, get behind is the absolute infantilization of both solas and lavellan that many solavellan shippers i have interacted with engage in.

i had to leave and the solasmancers subreddit because they bashed the fuck out of epler for having SANE and NORMAL takes on solas' villainous behavior. because: YES. solas is a VILLAIN. he is an ANTAGONIST. and for some reason, most of the solavellans i was friends/mutuals and most other VOCAL solavellans i saw refused to admit as much.

they baby solas, they baby their self-insert lavellans, and they romanticize the ship without acknowledging the (imo delicious) potentials for a tragic, toxic, and morally-grey partnership. they whiddle solas down to this abused, kicked, drowing puppy that must be saved- nay, can only be saved by their adoring, kind, never-angry-always-understanding lavellans.

i also dislike immensely the way rook gets dragged through the mud, killed off, belittled, bullied, etc. by some (not all) solavellans who cannot handle solas having insane chemistry with another character. because the chemistry between dreadrook is insane.

i could drone on for hours my issues with the solavellan fans that twist and bend the relationship dynamic between the two, but i won't. it's been regurgitated by so many people so many times, and i would be adding nothing new to the conversation.

my canon lavellan romanced solas and moved on to cullen after the events of trespasser. my canon lavellan would never leave her life behind in southern thedas to follow solas into the fade for eternity, especially not after he killed varric. if your lavellan would do that, then kudos to you! really! i am so thankful many solavellans have a way to get their happy endings! i did it the one time for the novelty, and never will again.

but i can't stand solavellans who can't admit to themselves that their pairing is just as toxic as (if not more than) the dreadrook pairing, and i doubly cannot stand solavellans that baby the fuck out of the pairing. these are two grown (pixelated) adults. they are not infants. their relationship is built on lies and deceit (again, delicious dynamic to me!) and it heavily annoys me when people cannot admit that.

THIS IS ALL TO SAY: i do not hate ALL solavellans. my bestest mutuals and online friends are major solavellan shippers. i am a solavellan shipper. i just so happen to enjoy dreadrook a thousand times more, and therefore have my lavellan married to cullen in my canon world state while my rook and solas frolick off into the sunrise together.

tldr; it's a CERTAIN TYPE of solavellan FAN that i do not enjoy interacting with. i do not think ALL solavellan fans are like this. i KNOW they are not. it's just the ones that ARE happen to be the loudest in a room at any given time. that is all.

[bbywhitefox123]

description: the tape Rafe and Mia filmed backfires, but Mia still has hope that Mason might want to sleep with her. So Rafe ends up bringing Mia to a party that Mason is supposed to attend.

warnings: semi-public sex, car sex, p in v

Mia leaked the video the second she got home, and only two hours later it went viral. Not for the right reasons, though. It was hard for a blowjob tape to go viral for the right reasons, anyway. However, Mia had hoped that at least Mason would now think of her as more than a pillow princess. She didn't know what Mason thought, however, she was very aware of everyone's thoughts in Outer Banks.

They thought that Mia’s daddy wasn't giving her enough money, so she began to sell her holes.

“What were you thinking?” Sarah exclaimed the moment she arrived at Mia’s house.

Mia’s eyes traveled from her bathroom door to Sarah’s concerned face. It hadn't even been twenty-four hours since the video was uploaded, and Sarah was already panicking.

“Thinking…” Mia repeated, trying to remember what thoughts might have crossed her mind while she had Rafe’s fat cock in her throat. Frankly, it was quite hard to think while being deep-throated. “I thought that it might be thrilling, no?”

Sarah’s eyes widened at the calmness of her best friend's voice. “No!” she shouted, throwing her hands in the air in frustration.

“Oh,” Mia said, looking down at her lap. She was sitting on her bed in her tinnie-tiny pj shorts.

Sarah’s brows furrowed at her friend’s child-like actions - except for the fact that children didn't film adult videos and leak them.

But before she could say anything else, her phone buzzed. Mia couldn’t help but feel a wave of relief wash over her. Sarah had been relentless with her lectures on keeping private moments… well, private. And after that video leak, Mia had heard enough. No one knew Rafe was the one behind the camera, and she planned to keep it that way.

“I have to go, M’s. Topper got in a fight,” Sarah sighed, grabbing her things. “But don’t think we’re done here.”

Mia plastered on a polite smile, nodding as Sarah left, the sound of the door clicking shut signaling her true relief. The moment Sarah was gone, Mia let herself fall back onto her bed, stretching out with a deep breath. “Finally,” she murmured, closing her eyes.

A creak from her bathroom door pulled her attention, and she looked up, watching as Rafe strolled out with that smirk of his, waving his phone lazily in the air.

She raised a brow, eyeing him with a half-smile. “What’s that? You filming yourself jerking off to my laundry?” she teased, crossing her arms as she settled into the mattress.

Rafe scoffed, tossing his phone onto the bed beside her. “Got my annoying sister off your ass. You’re welcome.”

Mia rolled onto her stomach, glancing at the texts he’d sent to Topper. She realized there was no actual fight — just Rafe, manipulating the situation to his advantage. She felt his gaze lingering, and a sly grin crept onto her face as she caught him in the act. The position she was in gave Rafe the perfect view of her heart-shaped ass.

“Oh, enjoying the view, are we?” she teased, arching her back just slightly, making it clear she knew exactly what he was looking at. Rafe felt his dick twitch at the sight of her ass peeking out of the short cotton material.

Rafe tilted his head, not even bothering to hide his stare. “Peach suits you,” he murmured, his voice low, teasing yet undeniably admiring.

Mia smirked, meeting his gaze with a defiant glint in her eyes. “Guess you can look,” she said, barely a whisper, “but don’t think you’ll get away with anything else.”

Rafe snorted, walking around the bed and letting his hand travel from her tight to the center of her lean back. He did exactly what she told him he couldn't. And in one swift motion, he undid her bra through the thin material of her tank top.

Mia’s mouth went dry as she looked up at Rafe, who was smirking devilishly down at her. His fingers moved to her jaw, caressing, and then he tugged on her lower lip.

“We’re friends, remember?” Mia found a little power in her voice and decided to use it.

Rafe smirked, pushing his thumb inside her wet, warm mouth, “The best of.”

Mia leaned in close, brushing her fingers along Rafe’s hand, her gaze steady and unwavering. Her lips quirked up in a teasing smile as she looked up at him, her eyes wide and unguarded. Rafe felt a rush of heat, his pulse picking up as he tried to keep his cool. She didn’t say a word, but the way she lingered, so close he could feel her warmth, said enough.

“You know,” she murmured softly, taking his finger out of her warm mouth and watching the saliva string between them. Her voice was laced with playful defiance, “I could keep you here all night if I wanted.”

Rafe’s jaw tightened as he fought the urge to give in, knowing he had somewhere to be. If only it wasn't for the damn party where he would get his next dose. But the thought of leaving was getting harder with each passing second. And so was his dick.

“Don’t tempt me,” he replied, his voice low, catching the glint of mischief in her eyes as she slowly pulled away, leaving him with only a taste of the tension hanging between them.

Mia wiped her mouth as she rolled back to the middle of the bed. “Where are you going, anyway?” she asked, sitting up.

It was a little after eleven p.m., and she was ready for some Netflix before she could fall asleep. Mia took her bra out and threw it on the edge of the bed before she pulled her laptop closer.

“Nate’s party,” Rafe answered quickly as if he wanted to get over with it.

Opposite to Rafe’s disdain, Mia’s eyes sparkled with excitement at his words. She looked over her shoulder. “Nate like Nate Richards? Mason’s friend? Is that the Nate you’re talking about?” Mia asked question after question, her chest rising with excitement while Rafe furrowed his brows at her.

“I guess—”

“Cool. I’m coming too,” Mia declared, getting up from her bed and quickly walking to her closet without waiting for Rafe to finish his sentence.

Rafe watched her with parted lips, his eyes glued to her jiggling ass. He would’ve much fathered have Mia cumming in her bedroom, instead of her coming to this party.

“Yeah, I’m not taking you,” Rafe said nonchalantly.

Mia stopped herself before she could take out a dress from her closet and turned on her heels to look at him. She pouted her glossy lips and gave him the biggest eyes she could. “Please, Rafey,” she begged.

Rafe gulped, the image of her sucking him on her knees playing in the back of her head. Fuck, he was getting hard all over again.

“I’ll do as you say. I just want to talk with Mason, nothing more— I’ll listen to you, and we’ll leave whenever you want… I’ll be good, I promise, Rafey,” Mia uttered on and on, but not a single word reached Rafe. He was too focused on watching her pretty nipples and the outline of her pussy that the shorts gave.

When Mia noticed where Rafe’s eyes were, she quickly took her tank top off her body without a second thought. Rafe watched with a watered mouth as her perky tits spilled out before he looked up at her face. The power she had on him was unbelievable.

“—You can even pick my outfit and all,” Mia finished her rant but by the look in Rafe’s eyes she knew he heard only the last bits of her words.

“Huh?” He furrowed his brows, fighting the need to look back at her bouncy tits.

Mia chuckled at him, biting her lip as she began to walk closer to him. Rafe’s hungry eyes were glued to her tits that bounced with each of her steps. He couldn't help but imagine how soft they would be in his palms and how she’d moan when he sucked on them. She gave him good material for his late-night jerking sessions.

Mia wrapped her hand around his arm, feeling his hard muscles. She had seen his body more times than any girl had, and she knew how strong he was. And that turned her on more than she cared to admit.

“C’mon,” she smiled at him, pulling him closer to her closet.

Rafe stood in front of the hung clothes and looked at her all confused. The Mia he knew hated when guys had opinions on her clothes and here she was, letting Rafe pick her outfit. He wasn't even sure she was serious until she stripped off her shorts. Rafe’s eyes widened as she took in the view. Mia, his best friend, stood in front of him with her tits out and her pink thong buried between her pussy lips.

“You’re wet,” Rafe pointed out before he could stop himself.

Mia looked down and chuckled. “I guess you’d have to pick a pair of panties, as well,” she said, folding her arms in front of her tits.

Rafe drew a sharp breath as he turned his attention back to her closet. He scratched the back of his head as he looked through her stuff. Outer Banks was one Hell of a hot place and Mia was known for having her ass out, so Rafe had to work with little less fabric than he had imagined.

“I like that dress,” Mia pointed out when Rafe pulled one of the many hangers. A short white dress was dangled down on the gold hanger.

Rafe smirked as he looked at it, “Didn’t I buy it?”

Mia nodded sweetly, the memory of his surprise gift causing her to bit her lip.

“Uhmm…” she hummed, folding her arms behind her as she stepped forward. “I love it when you buy me things.”

Rafe scoffed, trying to bite down his smirk. “Do you now?” he teased, his arm sneaking around her bare waist as he pulled her against his body.

Mia nodded, looking up at him. Her glossy lips twisted into a smirk, catching his gaze. She couldn’t stop herself from giggling. Mia had him wrapped around her pedicured finger. He was sooo whipped.

“So, Rafey. Why don’t you choose the dress Nate Richards would be taking off tonight?” she said, batting her long eyelashes at him.

Rafe snorted, biting back a remark that would’ve had her mood ruined. For a second, he thought whether he should tell her anyway - having her not go to that party was the best outcome. And he likes to gamble.

“How are you so fucking confident he’ll want you?” Rafe breathed out, furrowing his brows. He was so damn fascinated by her.

Mei cocked a brow. “You, boys are very simple. There’s nothing you wouldn't do for sex.”

Rafe tilted his head to the side. He did understand what she meant, but oh how much he loved to watch her lips move. Mei made her point and Rafe daydreamed about that glossy mouth of hers. The same mouth he had around his dick a few days ago. Even the thought of it made his dick hard.

“Just like you’re taking me to that party with the hopes of getting under me,” Mei gave another example, taking her hands off him.

Rafe leaned against the closet door. Biting his lip as Mei bent over to take the dress he had dropped. She had the best ass for doggy style or spanking. And Rafe was getting heated-up just thinking about it. It didn’t help that Mei used to date some of Rafe’s friends and he got to hear about the bedroom part from both sides.

“M’not a bottom,” Rafe muttured, his eyes glued to her tight body.

Mei only rolled her eyes at his statement before she put her dress on and turned around for Rafe to zip it. His cold hands melted against her hot skin as he dragged the zipper as slowly as he could. And when he was done, he placed a kiss on her bare shoulder. Mei laughed at the gesture before she walked away to pick some shoes.

“I’m not carrying you, Peach,” Rafe tasked the moment she picked up a pair of high heels.

Mei groaned, turning to look at him. “Okay, when has that happened— You know what, I take it back,”

Rafe smirked at her. “Exactly. You’ve got the stamina of a baby deer in those things, and I’m not breaking my back dragging you around again.”

Mei rolled her eyes, slipping her feet into the heels anyway. “First of all, I’ve never asked you to carry me. Second, you’re just mad I get more attention than you when we’re out.”

Rafe laughed, pushing off the door to close the gap between them. “You’re delusional. Nobody’s looking at you when I’m in the room.”

Mei gave him a playful glare, her hands going to her hips. “Oh, really? Last time I checked, you were the one begging me to zip this dress so I could distract your enemies.”

“Enemies? Nah, sweetheart,” Rafe said, tilting his head as he let his eyes sweep down her body, slow and deliberate. “They’re just guys who want what I’ve got.”

Mei’s cheeks flushed, but she kept her composure, shooting him a smirk. “What you’ve got? Hate to break it to you, but this—” she gestured to herself— “isn’t yours.”

Rafe stepped closer, close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from his body. “Sure about that?” His voice was low, teasing, with just enough of an edge to send a shiver up her spine.

She held his gaze, refusing to back down even as her pulse quickened. “Positive.”

Rafe’s smirk widened, but instead of pressing further, he backed away, his hands raised in mock surrender. “If you say so, Peach.”

Mei huffed out a laugh, brushing past him to grab her bag. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love it,” he called after her.

She didn’t respond, but the faint smile tugging at her lips was all the answer Rafe needed.

The party was already in full swing when they arrived. The bass from the music thrummed through the walls, and the smell of booze and smoke hung heavy in the air. Mei walked in first, her heels clicking confidently against the floor, her dress hugging her body in all the right places. Rafe trailed behind her, his jaw tight as his eyes swept the room, already annoyed by the way guys were looking at her.

Mei’s target wasn’t hard to find. Mason stood near the kitchen, a beer in one hand, his other slung lazily around some guy’s shoulders as he laughed at something. Mei’s lips curved into a sly smile, and Rafe immediately picked up on the shift in her demeanor.

“You’re not seriously thinking about him,” Rafe muttered as he leaned down to speak in her ear, his hand brushing against her lower back.

“Why not?” Mei replied with a coy glance over her shoulder. “He’s hot, and I’m bored.”

“Hot?” Rafe scoffed, straightening up. “You’ve got low standards if that’s your type.”

Mei rolled her eyes. “Just because I don’t want to bang you doesn’t mean my standards are low.”

“Cute,” Rafe drawled, crossing his arms. “But Mason? Come on, Mei, the guy’s dumber than a bag of rocks.”

“That’s okay. I’m not trying to have an intellectual conversation with him.” Her tone was sharp, but her grin was teasing. She gave Rafe a little wink before striding off toward Mason.

Rafe watched her go, his jaw clenching as she swayed her hips just enough to draw attention. He wanted to roll his eyes at how obvious she was being, but the truth was, it pissed him off more than he cared to admit.

By the time Mei reached Mason, Rafe had already decided he wasn’t going to let this happen. Not tonight. Not with him.

Mason grinned when Mei sidled up to him, her hand brushing his arm as she leaned in close. Rafe could see her laughing at whatever Mason was saying, her hand lingering on his chest. It made his stomach churn.

Without thinking, Rafe grabbed a drink off the counter and strolled over. “Hey, Mason,” he said, clapping him on the shoulder a little harder than necessary. “Didn’t think you’d show up tonight. Weren’t you saying something about skipping this one?”

Mason looked confused, glancing between Rafe and Mei. “Uh, no, I don’t think so—”

“Really? Could’ve sworn you said something about how boring these things get.” Rafe cut him off smoothly, his tone casual but his eyes sharp.

Mei narrowed her eyes at him, catching on immediately. “Rafe,” she said sweetly, her smile tight. “I’m sure Mason doesn’t need you putting words in his mouth.”

“Oh, I’m just making conversation,” Rafe said, shrugging innocently. “Didn’t mean to interrupt.”

But he didn’t leave, and his presence was enough to throw off whatever vibe Mei had been trying to create.

It happened again ten minutes later. Mei had managed to pull Mason onto the makeshift dance floor, her hands running up his chest as she pressed closer to him. Rafe leaned against the wall, watching with a dark expression before deciding he’d had enough.

He pushed off the wall and cut through the crowd, grabbing Mei’s wrist lightly but firmly. “Can I borrow her for a second?” he asked Mason, not bothering to wait for a response before pulling Mei away.

“What the hell, Rafe?” Mei hissed, yanking her arm back once they were out of earshot.

“You looked like you needed saving,” he said, his smirk infuriatingly smug.

“Saving?” Mei repeated, glaring at him. “From what? Having a good time?”

“From making a mistake,” Rafe shot back, his voice low but heated. “You don’t want Mason. Trust me.”

“Why do you even care?” Mei snapped, crossing her arms.

Rafe opened his mouth, then closed it, his jaw working as he tried to come up with a good answer. When he couldn’t, he just shrugged. “I just do, okay?”

Mei arched a brow, her lips curling into a smirk that held more frustration than amusement. "You just do, huh?" she mocked, crossing her arms. "That's not an answer, Rafe. It's an excuse."

Rafe's jaw tightened, his blue eyes locking onto hers. "Why are you making this such a big deal?"

"Because you're being a hypocrite!" Mei snapped, taking a step closer. "You screw around with half the girls in this town, and I don't say a damn thing about it. You're at every party, pulling girls into closets, making out with them in kitchens, and I don't care. So why the hell do you care if I want to have a little fun with Mason?"

Rafe's face darkened, but Mei wasn't finished. "Should we list names? Jessica, Lauren, Kate, Ashley, Sofia... oh, and let's not forget Clara from last weekend. Everyone knows about Clara, Rafe."

His lips parted, but no words came out. She'd hit a nerve, and they both knew it.

Mei leaned in, her voice dropping to a lower, more pointed tone. "You don't see me pulling you away from girls, do you? You don't see me cockblocking you. You can do whatever the hell you want, Rafe. So why can't I?"

For a moment, Rafe just stood there, his fists clenching at his sides. He hated hearing her say it-hated being reminded that she didn't care what he did, because maybe a part of him wanted her to. But he also hated the thought of Mason-stupid, clueless Mason-touching her, kissing her, taking her away from him, even for a night.

"You're right," Rafe said finally, his voice tight. "You don't care, and I shouldn't either."

Mei blinked, her anger faltering for just a second. She hadn't expected him to admit it so quickly-or at all. But before she could say anything, he stepped closer, his tone softening just enough to catch her off guard.

"But maybe I don't care about them," Rafe said, his eyes searching hers. "Not the way I care about you."

The words hung between them, heavy and unspoken for far too long. Mei's breath caught, her heart skipping a beat. She didn't know whether to believe him or to laugh in his face.

"You're full of shit," she said, her voice quieter now, though it lacked the usual bite.

"Maybe," Rafe admitted, a small, rueful smirk tugging at his lips. "But I meant it."

Mei scoffed at Rafe, a sharp, bitter laugh escaping her lips. “You meant it? Sure you did,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m going to find Mason and finish what I started.”

Rafe opened his mouth to protest, but she was already walking away, her heels clicking against the floor. His stomach churned, but he stayed rooted in place, watching as she disappeared into the crowd.

Mei found Mason near the kitchen again, his easy grin and casual demeanor drawing her in like a magnet. She didn’t hesitate, slipping into his space and tilting her head up with that signature coy smile.

“Hey,” she said, her voice dripping with honey. “I was starting to think you were avoiding me.”

Mason raised a brow, his grin widening. “Avoiding you? Nah, Mei, you’d know if I was avoiding you.”

Her smile deepened as she leaned closer, her fingers brushing against his forearm. “Good. Because I was hoping we could pick up where we left off earlier. You’re the only person here who seems remotely interesting.”

Mason chuckled, taking a sip of his beer as his eyes scanned her face. “You’re bold. I’ll give you that.”

“You like bold, don’t you?” Mei countered, her voice teasing.

“I do,” he admitted, his gaze dropping to her lips before flicking back up to her eyes. “But…you’re kind of young for me, Mei.”

Her smile faltered, just for a second, before she quickly recovered. “Young? I’m eighteen. That’s hardly young.”

“For me? It is,” Mason said, his tone gentle but firm. “You’re…I don’t know, innocent. Sweet.”

Mei raised a brow, her ego bruised. “You think I’m innocent?” She laughed, but it sounded forced. “You don’t know me very well, do you?”

Mason shrugged, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Maybe not, but I can tell. You don’t belong in a room full of assholes like me, Mei. You’re better than that.”

Her jaw tightened as his words sank in. Better? Innocent? She wasn’t sure if she was insulted or flattered, but she didn’t like how it felt.

“Well,” she said, straightening up and tossing her hair over her shoulder, “maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do. I’m not as sweet as you think, Mason.”

Mason chuckled, shaking his head. “Whatever you say, Mei. But I’m not going to be the guy who proves you wrong.”

Her lips parted in surprise, but Mason gave her an apologetic smile before stepping away, leaving her standing there, her pride wounded and her determination burning.

Mei downed the her drink, the alcohol doing little to temper the frustration bubbling in her chest. If Mason thought she was too innocent, then she’d make damn sure he saw otherwise.

She spotted him a little while later, leaning against the wall with a group of friends. Her steps were purposeful as she approached, her hips swaying just enough to catch his attention.

“Mason,” she said smoothly, interrupting the conversation. “Dance with me.”

He hesitated, glancing at his friends, but Mei wasn’t about to take no for an answer. She grabbed his hand, tugging him toward the dance floor before he could protest.

Once they were surrounded by the pulsing crowd, Mei turned to face him, pressing herself closer than she normally would. Her hands rested on his chest as she leaned up to his ear. “Still think I’m too sweet for you?” she whispered, her voice low and sultry.

Mason’s jaw ticked, his hands hovering at her hips before he reluctantly pulled back. “Mei, you’re proving my point.”

“Am I?” she challenged, her eyes flashing as she took a step closer. “Or are you just scared?”

Mason didn’t respond, his gaze flickering between her lips and her eyes before he finally stepped back, his hands falling to his sides.

“You’re gorgeous, Mei,” he said, his voice soft but resolute. “But you don’t need to prove anything to me—or anyone else. Trust me, you’re better off without guys like me.”

Mei’s heart twisted, anger and embarrassment warring in her chest as she watched him walk away. But as she stood there, her cheeks flushed and her pride bruised, she realized she wasn’t done yet.

If Mason wanted her to prove him wrong, then that’s exactly what she’d do.

~~~

Mei’s fingers slid up Mason’s chest as she backed him into the bedroom, her confidence radiating even as her heart raced. She’d caught his attention again, and this time, he didn’t stop her. His lips tugged into a slow smirk, and she leaned in, her breath brushing against his ear.

“So, still think I’m too sweet?” she murmured, her tone dripping with challenge.

Mason chuckled, his hands finally landing on her waist. “Maybe I was wrong about you,” he said, his voice low.

She grinned, pushing the door closed behind them. Her lips found his, the kiss hot and electric as her hands tangled in his hair. For a moment, she reveled in it—the thrill of the chase, the satisfaction of proving herself. But as Mason’s hands began to roam her body, a flicker of doubt crept in.

The taste was wrong. The way he held her was wrong. It wasn’t…

Rafe.

Her mind betrayed her, conjuring his face instead of Mason’s. She could practically feel Rafe’s cocky smirk, hear his rough laugh, smell his familiar cologne. The thought jolted her, but instead of pulling away, she leaned in deeper, trying to shake it off.

“Mei,” Mason murmured against her lips, his hands tightening on her hips. But his voice wasn’t the one she wanted to hear.

Outside the cracked door, Rafe leaned against the wall, his jaw clenched so tightly it hurt. He’d been watching them earlier, his blood boiling as Mei had flirted her way into Mason’s arms. It didn’t matter that some blonde was draped over him now, her lips on his neck and her hands pulling at his shirt. His eyes kept flicking back to that door, his imagination running wild, each thought worse than the last.

“You good, baby?” the blonde purred, her nails raking down his chest.

Rafe forced a smirk, his hand sliding to her waist. “Never better,” he lied, pulling her into him. If Mei wanted to play this game, so could he.

Back in the bedroom, Mason’s kisses trailed down Mei’s neck, but her mind was far from the present. She closed her eyes, biting her lip as her thoughts drifted to Rafe. The way he teased her, the way his hands lingered just a second too long when he zipped her dress, the way he always seemed to know how to get under her skin.

Her breathing hitched, and Mason paused, pulling back to look at her. “You okay?”

She nodded quickly, her hands framing his face to pull him back to her. “Yeah, I’m fine,” she said, her voice shaky.

But as their lips met again, she couldn’t stop herself. In her mind, it wasn’t Mason she was kissing anymore. It was Rafe—arrogant, infuriating, complicated Rafe.

Her fingers curled into Mason’s shirt as she kissed him harder, desperate to drown out the confusion swirling inside her. But the more she tried, the more Rafe’s face, his voice, his touch consumed her thoughts.

And it was driving her crazy.

Mei's back hit the mattress, and her heart pounded against her ribs as she pulled Mason-or at least she thought it was Mason-closer. The room was dim, lit only by the faint glow of the moon filtering through the curtains. She closed her eyes, her hands running up his chest, and in her mind, it wasn't Mason above her anymore.

It was Rafe.

His smirk burned into her thoughts, his cocky, teasing words echoing in her ears. His hands weren't soft or cautious like Mason's-they were rough, confident, possessive. As her nails dragged along his skin, she could almost hear Rafe's low chuckle, the one that always made her stomach twist in the best and worst ways.

"Thought you wanted Mason," the Rafe in her mind teased, his lips brushing her ear as his hand pinned her wrist to the bed.

Her breath hitched, her body reacting to the idea of him rather than the reality in front of her. "Shut up," she murmured, the words spilling from her lips before she could stop them.

Mason froze for a second. "What?"

"Nothing," she said quickly, pulling him back down, desperate to keep going, desperate to hold onto the fantasy she was spinning in her head.

Rafe's voice was still there, taunting her. His lips moved from her ear to her neck, his teeth grazing her skin just enough to send a shiver down her spine. His hands roamed her body like they owned it, rough and unapologetic, setting her every nerve on fire.

"You like this, don't you?" his voice growled in her mind, and she could only gasp in response.

The lines between fantasy and reality blurred as she arched her back, her fingers digging into his shoulders. "Rafe..." she whispered before she could stop herself, the name slipping out like a confession.

Mason pulled back, his brows furrowed. "Did you just say Rafe?"

Her eyes snapped open, the illusion shattering as reality crashed back in. Mason stared down at her, confusion and hurt written all over his face, and Mei's stomach dropped.

"I-" She scrambled for an explanation, but her lips wouldn't form the words. Her heart raced, her mind a mess of guilt and frustration.

Mason sat up, running a hand through his hair as he sighed. "Mei, what the hell?"

She couldn't answer, her thoughts still spinning with the image of Rafe - his smirk, his touch, his everything.

"Maybe I should go," Mason said, shaking his head as he climbed off the bed.

Mei didn't stop him. She couldn't. Because deep down, she knew the truth.

It wasn't Mason she wanted.

It had always been Rafe.

Mei stormed out of the bedroom, her mind racing and her chest tight. Her body was buzzing with frustration, not just at Mason for turning her down, but at herself for not being able to get Rafe out of her head. She needed to find him - now.

She moved through the crowd, ignoring the drunken laughs and blaring music as she asked around. "Have you seen Rafe?" she demanded from a girl near the drinks table.

The girl pointed toward the corner of the room with a smirk. "Over there, probably charming the pants off someone."

Mei's jaw clenched as she turned in the direction she'd been given, and sure enough, there he was. Leaning against the wall, Rafe had a blonde pressed up against him, his hands gripping her waist while his mouth worked against hers. The sight sent a flash of heat and anger surging through Mei, her nails curling into her palms.

What the hell was he doing?

Without thinking, she marched across the room, her heels clicking loudly against the hardwood floor. Rafe didn't even notice her approach, too caught up in whatever nonsense he was whispering in the blonde's ear. Mei felt her stomach twist at the sight, her frustration boiling over as she shoved her way between them.

"Move," Mei said sharply to the blonde, who blinked in shock but stepped aside, intimidated by Mei's sudden burst of authority.

Rafe raised an eyebrow, his smirk lazy and amused as he looked down at Mei. "Jealous, Peach?" he teased, licking his lips as if to taunt her further.

Instead of answering, Mei grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked him down to her level, crashing her lips against his in a kiss that was equal parts anger and need. Rafe froze for half a second, startled, but quickly recovered. His hands found her waist, pulling her closer as he kissed her back, just as fiery and aggressive as she was.

The room around them seemed to disappear, the music fading into the background as Mei poured all of her pent-up frustration into the kiss. Her fingers twisted into his hair, tugging hard enough to make him groan against her lips.

"What the hell are you doing?" Rafe muttered when they finally broke apart, his voice rough and breathless.

Mei glared at him, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. "You're mine tonight," she said, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Rafe's smirk widened, his hands tightening on her hips. "Oh, is that how it is?"

"Yeah," Mei said, her voice low and daring. "You got a problem with that?"

"Not at all, Peach," Rafe replied, his eyes darkening with something that made her stomach flip. "Not at all."

Without another word, she pulled him back down, her lips crashing into his once more, determined to drown out every thought and feeling in the only way she knew how-with him.

Rafe let out a low chuckle as Mei yanked him toward the door, her grip firm on his wrist. "In a rush, Peach?" he teased, though the heat in his voice betrayed that he was just as eager.

"Shut up and move," Mei snapped, throwing a glance over her shoulder. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes blazing with determination.

The cool night air hit them as they stumbled out of the house. The muffled thump of the party music faded into the background, and Mei's heels clicked against the pavement as she led him to his car.

Rafe smirked when she stopped in front of his sleek black SUV, her chest heaving with adrenaline. "Could've just asked nicely," he drawled, unlocking the car with a click.

Mei didn't bother with a reply. She shoved him against the side of the car, her hands gripping the collar of his shirt as she crushed her lips against his. It was messy and desperate, her frustration pouring into every kiss, every nip of his bottom lip.

Rafe groaned against her mouth, his hands sliding to her waist and pulling her closer. "Damn, Peach," he muttered, his voice rough and teasing. "Didn't know you were so needy."

"Shut up," Mei hissed, her fingers already fumbling with the handle of the back door. She yanked it open and shoved him inside, climbing in after him.

The space was tight, but Mei didn't care. She straddled him on the backseat, her dress riding up as she settled on his lap. Her hands tangled in his hair, pulling him into another searing kiss.

Rafe's hands roamed her thighs, slipping under the fabric of her dress and gripping her hips. "You sure about this?" he murmured, his lips brushing her jaw.

She glared at him, her nails digging into his shoulders. "Do I look unsure?"

Rafe grinned, his eyes dark and hungry. "Fair point."

Their movements became a blur of urgency-clothes tugged aside, breathless gasps filling the confined space. Mei's mind was a whirlwind, her frustration and desire finally colliding in the only way she could think to satisfy them.

Every touch, every kiss, every groan that escaped Rafe's lips sent a jolt of electricity through her. And when he finally pressed her back against the seat, his hands firm on her hips as he moved against her, all the tension she'd been carrying melted away, replaced by pure, unfiltered heat.

"Peach," Rafe groaned, his voice low and wrecked, his forehead resting against hers.

"Don't stop," Mei whispered, her nails raking down his back.

And for once, Rafe didn't have a smart-ass comment. He just gave her what she needed, every moment a chaotic, messy, and perfect blur.

Rafe's hands gripped Mei's thighs tightly, his fingers digging into her skin as if anchoring himself. The cramped space of the car only heightened the heat between them, their bodies pressed together with no room for hesitation. Mei's dress was bunched up around her waist, the fabric forgotten as Rafe's rough palms slid along her bare skin, his movements deliberate and teasing.

"God, Mei," he muttered, his voice thick and uneven, lips brushing against her ear. "You're driving me fucking insane."

"Good," Mei shot back, her breath hitching as his mouth trailed along her neck, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses. Her hands fumbled at his shirt, pushing it up and over his head with a huff of frustration when it got caught on his arm.

Rafe chuckled darkly, helping her with a cocky smirk. "Impatient much?"

"Shut up," she snapped, her hands moving to the button of his jeans, popping it open with more force than necessary. She didn't have time for his snark; her body was buzzing with frustration and need, and every second they spent talking felt like a waste.

Rafe leaned back against the seat, watching her with hooded eyes as she worked on freeing him. His lips quirked up in that familiar smug grin, but there was something more in his gaze-something darker, hungrier.

When she finally succeeded, her hand wrapped around him, and Rafe let out a sharp breath, his head falling back against the window. "Fuck, Peach," he groaned, his voice low and guttural.

Mei shifted on his lap, aligning herself without hesitation. Her eyes locked onto his, daring him to say something snarky, but Rafe was too far gone for words. The moment she sank down onto him, a sharp gasp escaped her lips, her nails digging into his shoulders as her body adjusted to the intrusion.

"Jesus," Rafe hissed, his hands flying to her hips to steady her. His grip was firm but not controlling, his thumbs stroking her skin almost tenderly. "You're-fuck, Mei."

Her head fell back as she began to move, slow and deliberate at first, testing her limits. The stretch burned in the best way, and the friction sent shocks of pleasure through her body, curling in her stomach like fire.

Rafe's control snapped as she found her rhythm, his hips lifting to meet hers with every thrust. His hands guided her movements, his fingers pressing hard enough to leave marks. The car was filled with the sounds of their heavy breathing, the slap of skin against skin, and Mei's soft, breathless moans.

"Rafe," she whispered, his name falling from her lips like a prayer, and it sent him over the edge.

He surged forward, capturing her mouth in a searing kiss, his tongue tangling with hers as their movements grew more desperate, more frantic. One of his hands slid up her back, tangling in her hair, while the other stayed on her hip

Rafe's hands gripped Mei's thighs tightly, his fingers digging into her skin as if anchoring himself. The cramped space of the car only heightened the heat between them, their bodies pressed together with no room for hesitation. Mei's dress was bunched up around her waist, the fabric forgotten as Rafe's rough palms slid along her bare skin, his movements deliberate and teasing.

Rafe's grip tightened as his movements became rougher, need overtaking any restraint he might've had. Mei's fingers dug into his shoulders, her nails dragging down his skin, leaving red trails in their wake. Every roll of her hips sent shivers through her, the pressure building inside her like a storm ready to break.

"God, Rafe," she gasped against his lips, her voice breathless and trembling. His name spilled from her mouth like a mantra, each syllable laced with desperation and pleasure.

"You feel so fucking good," he growled, his voice gravelly and low. His lips trailed down her jaw to her neck, sucking at the delicate skin there, his teeth grazing just enough to leave a mark.

Mei's head fell back, her hair brushing against the roof of the car as her body arched into him. "Harder," she demanded, her voice low but commanding, and Rafe didn't hesitate.

He gripped her hips harder, lifting her slightly before slamming her back down, each thrust hitting deeper and harder than the last. Mei's cries grew louder, her hands tangling in his hair as she tugged, pulling his head back to capture his lips again in a messy, heated kiss.

The car windows fogged up, the air inside thick with heat and the scent of their bodies. The cramped space forced them closer, their movements tangled and frantic as they chased their release together.

"Look at me," Rafe demanded, his voice sharp but full of want. His hand cupped her jaw, tilting her face toward his as his dark blue eyes burned into hers. "I want to see you."

Her eyes fluttered open, locking onto his, and the intensity in his gaze sent a new wave of heat rushing through her. Her body trembled, her breaths coming in sharp, uneven gasps as she teetered on the edge.

"I can't-" Mei started, her words breaking off into a moan as her body tightened around him.

"You can," Rafe murmured, his lips brushing against hers, his voice softer now but no less commanding. "Come on, Peach. Let go."

That was all it took. Her body shuddered, waves of pleasure crashing over her as she cried out his name, her nails biting into his skin. Rafe wasn't far behind, a low groan tearing from his throat as he gripped her tightly, his body tensing as he found his release.

For a moment, the only sound was their ragged breathing, their bodies still tangled together as they came down from the high. Mei rested her forehead against Rafe's, her eyes closed as she tried to steady her racing heart.

"Feel better now?" Rafe asked after a beat, his voice teasing but still rough from the intensity of what they'd just shared.

Mei let out a soft, breathless laugh, her lips quirking into a small smile. "Shut up," she muttered, but there was no bite to her words.

Rafe smirked, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Didn't think you'd actually go through with pulling me out of the party for this," he said, his tone smug.

Mei rolled her eyes, but the corners of her mouth twitched upward. "I needed to prove a point," she said, leaning back slightly.

"Oh, you proved it," Rafe replied, his grin widening. "And I think I won."

Mei scoffed, sliding off his lap and smoothing down her dress. "Whatever helps you sleep at night," she shot back, though the faint blush on her cheeks gave her away.

Rafe leaned back, watching her with a satisfied smirk as she adjusted herself. "You're not getting rid of me that easily now, Peach," he teased, his tone light but his eyes lingering on her with something deeper.

Mei didn't respond, but the way her lips curled into a small, secretive smile told him everything he needed to know.

previous next

[jazzy96scorpio]

Your Wish is my Command

Part 2

Description: You are still a Brat, and you talk to much. And Joel knows how to deal with that. 🥵

Pairing: You / Joel Miller

Warnings ⚠️: adult content, oral sex (male r), rough sex, unprotected sex, dirty talk, SMUT

🖤

You, Joel, and Ellie had stumbled upon the Bill and Frank house a beacon of hope amidst the desolate landscape. It offered a semblance of shelter, a respite from the constant threat of the infected. You found out they were dead. You decided to find useful stuff and continue your trip. While Ellie, oblivious to the somber realities of the situation, enjoyed a much-needed shower, you decided to check on Joel. He went to garage.

You found him in the garage, he looks at you as he rummaged through a dusty toolbox.

"What are you doing?" you asked, leaning against the doorway of the garage.

Joel jumped slightly, startled by your sudden appearance. "Trying to get this damn battery to work," he grumbled, fiddling with some wires. "This thing's seen better days."

"Okay," you replied, watching him work. "Ellie's in the shower. I'm next. You really need one. Do you want to join me." You teased him playfully.

Joel glanced at you. "Very funny," he muttered.

You stepped closer, your hand brushing against his arm. "I was asking nicely," you purred, your voice husky.

He looked up, his eyes hardening.

"Is anything on your mind other than sex?" he growled, his voice rough.

You laughed, a low, provocative sound. "Nope," you admitted, "I'm horny, Mr. Miller. May I suck your cock?"

You leaned closer, your breath fanning his face. He felt a surge of desire, a primal urge that threatened to consume him. But he also felt a flicker of unease, a fear of losing control.

"Please, don't," he muttered, his voice strained. He wanted it, desperately.

"Okay," you said, stepping back. "I'm not going to beg you." You turned away, your voice laced with a hint of defiance. "You grumpy asshole."

He grabbed your arm, his grip tight.

"What did you say to me?" he growled, his eyes narrowing.

You turned to him, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "I told, you are a grumpy asshole. Looks like the old man is a little numb."

He chuckled, a low, rumbling sound. "Can you shut up your little mouth just for a second?" he demanded, a playful edge to his voice.

"Only if you fill them with something interesting," you countered, your voice a playful challenge.

He shook his head "You're impossible," he muttered.

"I like it when you're angry," you teased, leaning closer. "What are you going to do about it, Mr. Miller?"

He leaned in, his breath fanning your face. "You're going to find out," he growled, his voice a low rumble.

"Get on your knees," he growled, a playful glint in his eyes.

You smiled, a mischievous glint in your own.

"I'm going to fill this filthy mouth of yours," you countered, crouching down in front of him.

He chuckled, a low, rumbling sound. He unbuckled his belt, his movements slow and deliberate, his eyes fixed on your face. He pulled down his pants, revealing himself in all his glory.

"Open your mouth, you needy slut," he commanded, slapping your cheek.

You complied, your eyes widening at the sight of him. He guided his thick cock into your mouth, the sudden intrusion a jolt to your senses. He groaned, his hands gripping your hair, his movements slow and deliberate.

"Shit, sweetie," he muttered, "I can't hear you. What did you say?"

You hummed, your eyes fluttering shut, enjoying the feel of him deep inside your mouth.

"Yeah," he growled, "Fuck...you like it."

He continued his movements more roughly, he could hear you gagging but he doesn't slow down. Your saliva dripping down his length. Then he pulled back, his eyes burning with intensity. "Stand up," he commanded.

You obeyed, your body trembling with anticipation. He stood there, his cock still hard, his eyes fixed on you with a possessive glint.

"You're going to regret those words," he growled, his voice a low rumble.

He grabbed you by the waist and lifted you onto the hood of the truck. He moved with a surprising grace, his hands strong but surprisingly gentle. He began to tear off your shirt, his eyes burning with a lust.

You felt a thrill of fear and excitement course through you. This was no longer a game. This was real, raw, and undeniably passion.

He quickly stripped off the rest of your clothes. He leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a fierce, demanding kiss. His hands roamed your body, exploring every inch of your skin. He cupped your breast roughly, eliciting a gasp from you.

He entered you with a powerful thrust, his cock filling you completely. You cried out, a mixture of pain and pleasure. He moved with a hard intensity, his hips grinding against yours.

"Shit," you gasped, "I will never get enough of this cock."

He smiled, a predatory glint in his eyes.

"This pussy was made for me, sweetie," he growled, his voice rough.

He reached down, his thumb gently rubbing your clit. You arched against him, your body trembling. He teased you, circling his thumb, bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

Then, with a final, explosive thrust, you erupted, your body arching against his. He held you close, his breath ragged, his body trembling.

He pulled out, his cum dripping down your stomach. You lay there, breathless, your body still tingling from the intensity of this sex.

"Look what can an old man do to you sweetie" he said, his voice husky. "Will you be silent now?"

You smiled, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "Oh, Fuck yes," you purred, "Until next time, Mr. Miller."

He chuckled, shaking his head.

"Maybe I will join you in the shower," he whispered, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

You smiled back, your heart pounding.

He leaned in, his eyes searching yours. You closed your eyes, anticipating his touch. His lips brushed against yours, a soft, tentative touch.

Thank you for the reading 💜 Please like, share and comment. Send me your reviews ❣️

Part 1

[wasabikitcat]

community college is so funny because half of the teachers are like "For this class you need to use lockdown browser for all quizzes and tests. You need to buy this 70 dollar textbook, and all papers turned in must be in APA format with a title page even if they're only 500 words long. I will not accept late assignments. Also you have a minimum of 4 assignments a week." and the other half are like "you don't need proctoring for the final exam I trust you. here's a download link to a pirated copy of the textbook. as long as your writing is coherent and demonstrates an understanding of the material I literally could not care less what format you use. I can't figure out how canvas works so I'm not giving you due dates, just make sure it's turned in before the grading period ends. your only weekly assignment is a forum post with a minimum of 100 words."

[tariah23]

I rly don’t see how ppl be 20+ shipping kids anymore tbh… like, it’s so rampant and I don’t see the appeal to it anymore being as tho I’m in my late 20’s.

[lightblueminecraftorchid]

they call me the griever because halfway through a thing I enjoy I’m already sad that it’s closer to being over

[torchickentacos]

[void-tiger]

Trying to keep a lid on it but. Yeah. Literally don’t know what’s it like to NOT be platonically neglected IRL my whole damn life, only that I know this One Person doesn’t deserve to be at the epicenter of it anymore than I deserved to have been at the epicenter of theirs a year ago now.

…why am I like this. Why are we like this.

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

Me, aged 5. Spoken to my extremely Catholic grandmother, matriarch of the family, who had crosses and pictures of saints hanging in every room of the house: [little, uncannily-enunciated voice] “Grandma, when your church gets destroyed in Armageddon, you can come to our kingdom hall!”

[notmoreflippingelves]

EoA for ask meme

otp: *coughs* Elena/Esteban. sorry not sorry.Look if they didn't want me to be unhinged about them, they shouldn't have spent an entire season soulmate-coding them and then capping it off with a BATB homage.

favourite canon pairing: ymmv on how canon it is, but considering it was pretty strongly teased in the series finale, Julio/Doña Paloma. I do find Carla/Mateo pretty cute as well.

worst pairing ever: I wouldn't say any of the pairings for the show are bad. It's just a lot of them don't particularly interest me. I could say Elena/Mateo, because personally I find it overrrated and I'm already gonna talk about it later. But I am going to go with Esteban/Doña Paloma.

I did actually kind of ship it the first time I watched the show...right up until the episode where their AU selves got married. And even though the whole point of "to Queen or Not to Queen" is that everything is absurd and everyone is wildly out-of-character (especially the two of them), they just seemed so miserable together and I couldn't unsee it. I also find it kind of annoying that Paloma is treated as sort of the default "acceptable" Esteban shipping option for people who don't want to pair him with OCs. And just...it's fine and I understand why many people would feel uncomfortable shipping him with certain characters (even if I don't)...but like...Victor is also right there. And honestly, I'm able to get a lot of the same vibes that I initially liked about esteoma out of estevictor, esteban/naomi, gaberico, and Julio/ Paloma---plus just I find those dynamics are more interesting in general.

guilty pleasure pairing: It used to be estebalena, but now, I have much less shame over it. It helps that I really only see it happening in S3 or later and that I hc that Elena would be the much more dominant/instigating partner in the relationship. I mean I guess Shuriki/Esteban is the obvious answer. But it is worth noting that I don't like it when it's genuine/mutual/romantic. I only like esteriki in the noncon/dubcon "Shuriki abusing her power" sense. So my guilty pleasure ship is less Shuriki/Esteban and more "Esteban/severe Shuriki-related trauma that leads to extreme woobification." I want him sad and pretty and haunted by the Dark Times™ so that he can have allll the angst, whump and hurt/comfort.

a pairing you want to see more: Literally every ship that isn't just some permutation of the Four Amigos. There are so many great characters in this ship that can be paired in so many interesting ways, but they rarely get acknowledged. I think I am particularly baffled by the lack of m/m in this fandom, since it's like the complete opposite of every other fandom ever. There's a bit of Mateo/Gabe, but honestly, it's positively dwarfed by other pairings for the amigos. (Also I don't care about Mateo, lol). There's also a criminally small bit of Gabe/Rico, but there could be so much more.

But honestly, the ship that I am genuinely baffled isn't more popular and really really want to see more of is Victor/Esteban. Like it just seems like a no-brainer to me. It has so many tropes that people normally go feral over. Childhood friends to lovers? Enemies to Lovers? Foe yay? Mutual redemption arcs? There isn't even an age difference and Victor's marriage is all-but-over. So, what is stopping people? I've seen at most a handful of ambiguously romantic ship art and not a single fic. Where is it? Where is the estevictor? Give me the estevictor!

that pairing everyone likes but you’re like “lol no” : Elena/Mateo. I mean I get why it's so popular given the popularity and attractiveness of both characters. But personally, I just don't find them interesting. I feel they both have better chemistry and interesting potential with other characters than they do with each other. And its popularity within the fandom certainly doesn't help, as my little contrarian hipster brain turns its nose up about 90% of fandom juggernaut pairings. Plus, I just don't care enough about Mateo to care about a ship with him. He's casually cute with Carla and I can see him with Gabe as well. But otherwise, nope. Don't like him enough to care who he's shipped with.

favorite non-romantic pair: There are a bunch of dynamics that I do ship sometimes (or more than sometimes) but I also love platonically. (Esteban & Elena, Elena & Naomi, Esteban & Naomi, Naomi & Gabe, Elena & Gabe, Elena & Valentina, Elena & Marisa, Chloe & Maliga, Cacahuate & Bobo, various permutations of "Team Isa"). But in terms of pairings that I only view platonically, either Victor & Carla or Isabel & Elena.

[m--rtyr]

What if Aarily and Zoeymau on Double dates

Yes.

Just yes.