#help these tags are so confusing to use lol
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corinthianism · 14 hours ago
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SOMETHIN' STUPID || VIKTOR
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pairing: viktor (arcane)/fem!reader additional tags: viktor's pov, viktor is a certified yearner, maybe ooc, unrequited love that's actually requited, no physical descriptions for reader other than having dainty fingers and being shorter than viktor, hopefully correct use of czech pet names, barely proofread synopsis: the ever-brilliant viktor finds himself drowning in feelings for his colleague, so what does he do? bury them, of course.... until he learns that love is not something you can just ignore.
author's note: hello everyone! it's been a long, long while since i've written anything so i thought i would try and see if the ol' writing machine (aka my brain) still works lol. this is more of a blurb than anything so please go easy on me. also trying out something new by writing in present tense (lmk if it flows well!) viktor might be a little ooc but i'm still trying to fully understand him. hopefully my characterization of him in future fics (if any) will be more faithful to the viktor you're all familiar with. anyways, enjoy 2k words of viktor yearning like CRAZY đŸ«¶đŸŒ
Viktor doesn’t know how much more of this he can take. How many more times would your eyes meet from across the room at one of those parties he never really wanted to attend in the first place? How many more times would your fingers brush in the early morning, when he accepts the steaming sweetmilk that you so kindly got for him? How many more times would your laughter intermingle softly late into the night, when exhaustion took over and your writing started to look more like chicken scratch rather than letters?
He might just go insane.
How was it possible to want someone this much? Maybe he’s experienced something like this before, in tiny amounts, for people he hasn’t thought about in years. Deep down, he knows that even if he added all of those fleeting romances together, it would still only be a fraction of what he feels now. For you.
He can’t pinpoint that exact moment in time when everything changed. There were definitely a few of those moments that stood out more than others, but none of those instances were the catalyst for whatever this is. But they certainly don’t help his case.
A few words of encouragement.
A book recommendation.
A smile— so soft, so intimate, he briefly allows himself to believe that it was meant just for him. Something precious for him to keep, to be his and his alone.
In the dim light of the lab, he finds you asleep on your desk. The humming glow of the hex crystals leaves you blanketed in a gentle blue. He’s heard tales of this before, from when he bothered to listen to such things. It would happen just like this, they said: his heart would beat so fast, it threatened to leave his chest entirely. His skin would burn with something unmistakable, a feeling that left one in a state of simultaneous confusion and clarity.
He feels it all now and he finds it polarizing. It’s too much and not enough. He chases and runs away from it at the same time. A part of him wants it to stop, to go away and leave him forever for the sake of ending this game he’s painfully losing
 but a greater part of him hopes that it will grow and grow to the point where maybe you’ll notice and do something about it. His palms get a little sweaty just thinking about making the first move. Symptoms of a lovesick fool.
The soft sound of your breathing quiets the pounding of his heart, prevents the wretched feelings from overflowing and spilling everywhere. Even if it was just for tonight. Tonight, he keeps his lips sealed, fights to keep himself from reaching for you. It would be unbecoming of him.
His eyes land on you again, observing how your head rested on your arms. Understanding hits him then, why you’re so bothered by seeing him stay at the lab so late that he ends up falling asleep. That position couldn’t have been comfortable. Of course, he knew that from experience, but it’s your comfort he’s thinking about right now. He wonders if this is what you felt whenever you woke him up and implored him to go home.
Surely not.
No, he can’t wrap his head around you possibly viewing that act the same way he does. Not when he wants to bottle this moment, wants to capture the preciousness of seeing you like this. It just can’t be the same.
So can you really blame him if when he finally rests a hand on your shoulder to wake you gently, he lets it linger there for just a little longer? An infinitesimal piece of time that he claims for himself. He never thought himself to be the sentimental type, but he cherishes it all: he cherishes the way you blink slowly as you returned to the waking world, and your tired murmur of his name that makes his chest tighten.
It’s just a wisp of a moment, never really tangible enough for him to hold in his hands, but he cherishes it all the same. It’s burned in his memory, in his very being, the same way everything else about you is. Every piece of you that you so generously gifted him.
“You should go home, darling.”
The word slips past his lips before he could even think about it. But he allows himself this one indulgence. He can’t help it. He’s always been a bit greedy.
“What time is it?” you ask.
“Far too late for you to be here,” he answers.
You huff out a breath of a laugh, “That’s rich coming from you.”
He finds himself smiling. How does someone manage to be so endlessly endearing without even trying?
It takes an embarrassing amount of effort for him to pull back his hand from your shoulder. Had you been more awake and had the room been brighter, he might’ve schooled his expression into something more neutral. Something to hide the unbridled adoration in his eyes. He doesn’t do that now. With the shield of darkness to protect him, he lets the mask come off. He lets his affection for you wash over him in waves. It would’ve been liberating, if it wasn’t for the tiny detail that that affection was unrequited.
Still, he says your name with utmost care. “You must go home and rest.”
To his surprise, you listen. You mumble a tired "okay” and gather your belongings, slipping on your coat. “You should go home, too, Vik.”
“I will. Soon. I just need to finish a few things.”
Your face twists into a frown, “No, you’ll do that tomorrow.” Before he can interject, you speak up again, “Just
 come with me? It’s late and I don’t want to walk home alone.”
His brain refuses to reconcile with what his eyes see: the trepidation written all over your features, the way you clutch the lapel of your coat just a little tighter. He knows it’s a trap, you just want to get him out of the lab but how could he possibly reject the promise of a few more minutes with you? The chance to pretend, even if it’s just for those precious few minutes, that he was taking you home as someone more than a colleague? More than a friend? Only a fool would say no to you. Or perhaps he was a fool either way. He really must be going insane.
He says yes almost instantly.
It’s cold in Piltover tonight. It makes his bad leg ache more than it already does, and so his strides are a bit more careful. He doesn’t say anything about how you also slow down to match his pace but he appreciates your considerate gesture nonetheless.
The moon hangs in the sky big and bright, making everything around you seem softer. It’s picturesque. Almost romantic. He tries his best not to entertain that thought for much longer. Instead, he focuses on what you say to him so he could ignore the traitorous thoughts his mind conjures up and the way his knees were protesting because of the cold.
Conversation with you is easy— terrifyingly so. It was one of the first things he noticed about you when you first met.
Early on in the process of finding sponsors and securing funding, him and Jayce quickly realized that they needed help. Yes, Jayce is a friend of the Kiramman family. Yes, Viktor is Heimerdinger’s protĂ©gĂ©, but they’re academics. At the end of the day, Jayce’s warm personality could only do so much when he was still greatly inexperienced with navigating these more political spaces and for all of his experience and perceptiveness, Viktor knows he’s no good at sweet-talking sponsors, either.
Enter, you.
Caitlyn Kiramman was the one to recommend you, her former tutor. Jayce was quick to back her up, remembering that you were also Academy alumni; a particularly strategic businesswoman. Viktor was hesitant at first, knowing that a third party could complicate things. Hextech was born out of the dream to help people. He worried that bringing business and politics (even though he knew it was necessary) into the mix would warp Hextech into something it wasn’t. Jayce convinced him to take a gamble, and it seemed that the potential of Hextech was enough to bring you back to Piltover from your travels across Runeterra.
It took him a while to warm up to you. You weren’t nobility, but most definitely well-off. Even more so after your years as a business consultant to organizations all over the continent. He respected you, sure, but Viktor had a hard time trusting someone who was so
 privileged. How could you possibly understand how important it was that Hextech remained a beacon of hope for the less fortunate? Perhaps it was naive of him to think that way, as much as he hated to admit it.
But true to your reputation, you delivered exactly what they needed. You bridged the gap between Viktor and Jayce’s hopes for Hextech and the support they needed from sponsors, protecting them and their inventions from being taken advantage of.
Suffice to say, you earned his admiration.
Never in a million years would Viktor imagine that you would captivate his entire being, too.
It was daunting. Scary, really. Especially now that he’s beginning to understand the full extent of his affections. Years and years of burying that softness from his youth deep beneath the armor of his intellect— all that hard work diminished by a pretty girl. Gods, he really is just a man. Not even that. With you, he feels like a highschooler with a crush. It’s painful. Downright humiliating. But he wouldn’t trade it for anything. Not when you link your arm around his, laughing at something he said. Was he really that funny? Probably not. He’s just happy to make you laugh.
“You don’t have to be nice about it. Salo is a grade-A asshole,” you grinned. “We both know it. If I have to spend another dinner with him present I might actually stab a fork in my eyes.”
He smiles, “Ah, but that wouldn’t save you from his incessant chatter.”
“I’ll stab the fork into my ears too."
“I might just follow after you,” he hums, “you’ll have to check if it works first, though.”
Your friendship blossomed when your visits to the lab became less for work and more for leisure. You wanted to visit, wanted to learn more about what he and Jayce were working on and why. Everything after that was just dominoes. You, with all your fiery passion and sharp wit, have become a permanent fixture in his life and now? He could hardly imagine life without you in it. You're one of his dearest friends and, much to his dismay, that makes his current predicament even more challenging than it already is.
Before he knew it, the two of you were standing in front of your apartment building— one of the most luxurious in Piltover. He could only imagine how much it cost, though he knew for certain that your penthouse probably barely made a dent in your wealth. He’s gotten somewhat used to your differing lifestyles, but he’s never completely able to not marvel at it. A gust of wind kissed his skin once more as he turned to look at you.
“This is me,” you say, gloved hands in your pocket and your lovely, lovely face framed by your hair and ruby red scarf. He recognizes it as the gift he gave you a year ago now. A spur-of-the-moment purchase on one of the rare occasions he was actually outside Academy grounds. He remembers thinking that the color would look nice on you. He was right. He finds himself holding onto the seconds before he has to go. “Thank you for walking me home, Viktor.”
“Of course,” he nods but the calmness of his voice don’t match the way his eyes bore into yours. “It’s only proper.”
“Proper?”
“Yes. Proper. I am a gentleman, after all.”
His accent comes out thicker, emphasizing the words more than he means to.
“I didn’t take you for someone who cared much about propriety,” you tease.
“Is it because I’m from the undercity?” he deadpans and he relishes in the look of horror on your face that replaces your grin.
“What? No!” you exclaim, smacking his arm when you realize he’s just joking. “You. Are. Impossible.”
A laugh bubbles out of his chest, “Oh, that’s cruel. You would hit a defenseless man? How heartless.”
“Shut up. That cane of yours is a weapon of war. Don’t think I haven’t seen you smack Jayce with it.”
“If I hit him with it, he probably deserved it.”
“Poor Jayce,” you laugh as well. “Remind me not to get on your bad side.”
Viktor smiles.
“I do not think you could even if you tried, lásko."
He freezes and so do you. The laughter—the music—that you shared for the briefest of moments was thoroughly snuffed out, leaving you both in a silence that threatens to swallow him whole. He didn’t mean to do that. He didn’t mean to speak so gently, but there is not a part of Viktor that could withhold this sincerity from you. Specks of the truth, of the confession he’s barely managed to wrangle into submission and lock away somewhere dark and unreachable.
He pulls back on instinct. He’s shown too much, said too much. You don’t move. He is petrified.
Your eyes widen and he sees his reflection on them, staring back at him. This is it, he thinks. He’s crossed the line and he’ll have to deal with the crushing blow of your rejection.
You manage to compose yourself and what you say next is
 well, unexpected. Your tone is light, clearing the air and allowing him to breathe again.
“Do you say that to every woman or am I a special case? I’d hate to be part of a roster.”
He’s taken aback, but he feels a weight lifted off his shoulders. You are a miracle in his eyes. Washing away his worries with a kind smile and a few choice words. He laughs again and this time, he doesn’t stop himself from speaking the truth. It’s now or never.
“Surely you know by now that you are singular,” he whispers, his accent a pleasant drawl in your ears. He takes a step forward. It is gravity that pulls him in, not the Earth’s, but yours. A force that he can’t help but be drawn to. Not that he would ever dare to resist it now that his fear has shrunk down to something a little less debilitating.
His face is inches from yours. You don’t move. He gets a little braver.
“I do not appreciate your implication that I would pay attention to anyone else,” his voice is low, honest. “As if anyone could compare to you. As if you don’t hold my very being in the palm of your hand. Miláčku, I adore you. Don’t you know that?”
There is a hint of pleading in his tone, begging you to understand the full scope of his feelings from those few words so that he wouldn’t unravel before you, a bundle of nerves and petals the same shade as your scarf.
“Say something. Please,” his fear rears its ugly head once more. “Say the word and we’ll pretend this never happened. I will remain your colleague and nothing more. A friend, if you would allow it.”
“What if I don’t want that?” you ask, your own voice a little shaky with uncertainty. Maybe it was also fear. That, he’s not quite sure.
Viktor doesn’t fully trust what he’s hearing, thinks it to be a figment of his deluded imagination, but his heart is screaming at him now to push forward.
“What is it you want, lásko? Tell me and it shall be yours.”
You're almost breathless when you finally respond, “You. I want you."
The world stills. Time itself screeches to a halt. There is only you and him, together in this moment that he knows will be woven into the threads of his soul. He has never known euphoria quite like this. He can’t name it yet, doesn’t know if this is love. He can only hope that it will be.
When he looks into your eyes again, he does not see his own terrified reflection. He just sees you. And the sheer intensity of your gaze that rivals his own. Have you always looked at him that way? Was he just too blind to see it?
“Do you mean that?” he finds himself asking. He has to— has to make sure that this is real.
You smile again, dainty fingers intertwining with his. It is a gentle smile, a hopeful smile that answers his question before you even open your mouth.
“I do,” your voice is so gentle and yet it squeezes his heart. “I’m yours, Viktor, if you’ll have me.”
He brings your knuckles to his lips, places a reverent kiss on them like you’ve given him the world. In a way, that’s exactly what you did. Maybe his lips were always meant to be on your skin, worshipping you like the goddess you are. It feels too natural for it to mean anything else.
And for the first time in a long time, he allows himself to hope.
“I would love nothing more.”
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communistcatboi · 3 months ago
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You might’ve realised ive been liking parkour civilisation recently:) Heres my version of Evbo and his Master Friend, they’re dating lol

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Timelapse and other stuff under the cut :)
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Yes I made the idiots in the sims

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i-may-be-an-emu · 2 months ago
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WHAT AM I MEANT TO SAY WHEN PEOPLE ASK ABOUT MY HOBBIES LIKE OH. IM VERY OBSESSED WITH AN IMPROV GROUP FROM LONDON. YEAH WHEN I THINK ABOUT THEM I SMILE LIKE A MANIAC AND I’VE CRIED BECAUSE THEY MEAN SO MUCH TO ME MULTIPLE TIMES. WHAT ARE YOUR HOBBIES?
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popcornkwantum · 4 months ago
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The Close family but as CATS*.✧
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I'll be making these sillies into STICKERS for the upcoming DnDads live show (Both Amsterdam and Tilburg) !!! Very excited!!
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dallonwrites · 1 year ago
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actually making my tags from my last post into their own post. writers who struggle with grammar, spelling, typos, errors etc i love you. writers who struggle with rereading their stuff thoroughly no matter how much they try, who don't always have access to other people to help them read i love you. whilst reading through and checking for these things is good practice i really believe that the weight of it should not be put wholly on the writer's shoulders. especially writers who are neurodivergent, disabled, have any condition that can impede their reading + comprehension, are overworked and overtired, are not writing in their native language, list goes on....because grammar mistakes/language mistakes/typos have nothing to do with your abilities as a creative. this is where editors should be uplifting writers, helping them, not scrutinising them for something they cannot always control
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finniestoncrane · 2 years ago
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said to my counsellor that i wasnt built for friendship because everyone always eventually just. stops speaking to me and she went “ok why do you think that is?” and then when i finished my dumb sad list she went “ok so maybe you aren’t good at friendship” and i. have never regretted spending £50 more in my life lol
#A RANT IN THE TAGS MY GOD I DIDNT EVEN REALISE I AM WRITING THIS WARNING RETROSPECTIVELY#£50 to feel like never trying to speak to anyone again or forge any connections THANKS RUTH#Ruth remember when I said that every friendship I’ve had I’ve never truly known if it’s a friendship or if it’s one sided#remember when I told you that my friend groups always had people who had a favourite and I was never the favourite#remember when I told you that several friend groups have disbanded but not really they actually just made new spaces without me?#remember that? remember my trauma? remember?#because I DO!!!#I was not born to have friends I don’t think#I can’t even make friends with other autistic people or other weird people or other queer people#I don’t even think I could make friends with a clone of myself#this is so guy wrenchingly isolating lol#like girl what do you want from me? keep everyone at arms length like I used to?#try not to let myself get attached to people in case they decide they don’t want to be close to me anymore?#please it is not great advice Ruth#THE WORAT PART is that I literally was like ‘I don’t message too much because I’m overbearing’#and she asked where the proof was#and all I had was the complete dissolving of any relationship where I tried or tried too hard#so now I’m left in this confusing space of do I message too much or not enough because I have no happy medium#and she knows SHE KNOWS I also have energy issues and executive dysfunction stuff going on#and I know she is just trying to help and get me to think about this stuff#but it was just not the time lmao#finnie shouts into the void
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sugarsnappeases · 1 year ago
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thank you for the tag @fxreflyes this is so cute, except the format is trying to hinder my propensity to ramble, so i’ve rectified this in the tags lmao
i’m over 5'5 / i wear glasses or contacts / i have blonde hair / i often wear sweatshirts / i prefer loose clothing over tight clothes / i have one or two piercings / i have at least one tattoo / i have blue eyes / i have dyed or highlighted my hair / i have or have had braces / i have freckles / i paint my nails / i typically wear makeup / i don’t often smile / resting bitch face / i play sports / i play an instrument / i know more than one language / i can cook or bake / i like writing / i like to read / i can multitask / i’ve never dated anyone / i have a best friend i’ve known for over five years / i am an only child
no pressure tags for @static-radio-ao3 @inevitablestars @itsjaywalkers @carniferous @orbitfalls @transsexualpriest @futurequibblerjournalist <333
#i'm like 5'7 i think. fun fact i used to wear glasses when i was like 11 bc all my friends were getting glasses and i wanted some too so i#lied to my optician. lol good times. don't actually need glasses tho soooo.#this is me coming out as a natural blonde guys
.. like my hair hasn’t been blonde in a good year or so and it hasn’t been my natural blonde#in like three/four years but still in my heart of hearts i identify as a blonde. like i get confused when people don't count me as one#i have my ears and nose pierced and i would love a tattoo but unfortunately i have both a fear of needles and commitment issues so.#not sure if that’ll ever happen
 would be very hot and sexy tho. also i'm one of those freaks with green eyes lol it's appaza quite rare#my hair is currently like dark dark brown
 have been getting the itch to dye it again tho like a kinda reddish colour idk yet we’ll see#i had braces for AAGES. i have freckles in the summer and i paint my nails whenever i remember to. rn they’re a very chipped lilac colour#i think i have a resting bitch face but i can never tell tbf like it might be more of a resting 'dead to the world' face lmao#okay technically i don’t play an instrument anymore! but in the past i’ve dabbled with the cello the oboe and the xylophone. singing too#spanish and italian baybee although ig if this means like fluently then that’s not me but this is literally my degree it’s my whole brand#yes i like to read but also the only things ive read in like the last few months have been either books in spanish/italian for my degree#literary criticism for said span/ital books and
 fanfic. so. also i like writing but it's my worst enemy rn the thoughts aren't working :(#i have many best friends that i’ve known for years!!!! in fact i've known some of my friends for like my entire life it's very cute#okay sorry for rambling i can never help myself and i also literally could go on icl like there was Some restraint applied here#kara lore#bc there's quite a lot of it in this one lol#tag games
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starshine-cal · 12 days ago
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When it comes to climate change I am firmly in the “whatever it takes” category
Sulfates or diamond dust injected into the atmosphere could cool the earth by 1.6°? Do it. It costs trillions of dollars and people won’t like it bc of the chemtrails or whatever? Idc
Dehydrate the stratosphere causing cooling? Go for it sounds great
Forcefully pass legislation that means people are no longer allowed to use the most carbon emitting things? Go for it. Idc if it’s against our personal freedoms or whatever we can get those back when we stop destroying the world
Just straight up destroy HQs/factories of every company that is causing a large amount of emissions? Yep I support it even if I might have to not say that out loud when it actually happens for legal reasons lol
THE MOST IMPORTANT THING is to ACTUALLY DO SOMETHING so if people are refusing to reduce emissions we’re simply going to have to DO SOMETHING ELSE
Sure it would be great to just elect leaders who care about the climate and have them legislate to remove emissions at a reasonable rate and turn things around but with globalization leading to the current world political climate etc it is now impossible to get anywhere in politics without being corrupt as hell and therefore impossible to elect non-evil leaders who care about anything other than money at this current moment, and I’m pretty sure we won’t get people who care about the earth (since they still have a few decades left on it and would have to suffer with us) until the entire current group of elderly oligarchs dies off so we’re gonna have to get something else going ASAP
My main hope is that now that dump the orange is back at it again people will actually start paying attention to the bad and damaging things this fuckawful country is doing and push back against it instead of going “well sure climate change is bad but I don’t want to criticize the prez in case the other guy gets elected instead so I’m just gonna say their policies are great!”
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drizzle-18 · 2 years ago
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I see people saying the for you page is trash and all that but like ??? i dont know who to follow. help.
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autistic-beshelar · 1 year ago
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help a poor disabled queer get their teeth fixed
hey y'all. i'll keep this short.
my teeth are in bad shape, and my previous dentist fucked up my fillings, which made everything worse. i haven't been able to eat on one side of my mouth for months, and it's worsening my chronic jaw pain. i also need my wisdom teeth taken out, because two of them are impacted.
the projected cost of treatment is almost ÂŁ2,000, and could end up being much more by the time i can afford it - the longer i leave it, the worse the decay will get and the more long term damage there will be.
anything at all helps, and reblogs are just as appreciated.
paypal
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thermodynamic-moth · 2 years ago
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im going to die please
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coffeeandcalligraphy · 2 years ago
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Hi Rachel,
In some of my writing I’m beginning to notice more and more that certain characters (not all) remind me of myself lol. And I hate it, I go back and rewrite them. But I’m interested if you relate to any of your characters as well so—Out of the characters you’ve written (Lonan, Reeve, Harrison, etc..) who do you think is the most like you? And what’s your take on writers seeing themselves in some of their characters?
feel about seeing reflections
Hahaha I used to HATE writing characters that were like me, and it took a while to realize that actually, they ALL are me in some iteration. To answer your question about writers seeing themselves in their characters—if writing characters that are “self-inserts” makes you joyful, DO IT!!! If writing characters who aren’t self-inserts but have attributes to you makes you joyful, DO IT! Or if you’re not into it—that’s fine too! Life is too short! Have fun with what works for you!
My experience below, this gets kind of intense as a warning! CW: suicidal ideation, disocciation
Aligning myself with my characters has been an intensely life-saving experience. I’m not sure I’d be here if it were not for Lonan
 16-year-old Rachel WAS him, and also needed him because literally nobody else “understood” where I was at except for him (undiagnosed autism for BOTH OF US??).
There was a time of my life where I couldn’t emotionally regulate at all, and in moments of stress, would often dissociate and quite literally converse with this man (looking back now, this was just a coping mechanism—confirmed by my doctor btw!—but for a couple years he was a genuine part of my psyche, like moved out of just character territory). I think I talked about this years ago, but I have a really distinct memory of disconnecting so much I quite literally thought he was THERE next to me, which I needed—he really became an externalization of the things I couldn’t deal with (or didn’t understand how to deal with). I needed to see myself reflected in the eye of someone else and for a really long time that was Lonan for me. Actually screaming crying that’s so cute.
And Lonan is similar to me in a lot of ways! This is a side tangent but when I was first diagnosed as autistic it made me wonder if I’d inadvertently written any autistic characters & it struck me way back then that the person most similar to me (Lonan lol) is probably also autistic. I was like—sensory issues?? No emotional regulation?? Speaks a bit oddly?? We are THE SAME. Haven’t really confirmed this in canon lol but I’ve been thinking about it since 2021.
Funnily, now that I have that diagnosis, my life is a lot more stable so like
 I’m not currently the most like Lonan lol. But me at 16-19??? Absolutely him.
Unfortunately, I am currently HARRISON, which isn’t ideal but just like he’s a 21-year-old experiencing horrors I’m a 21-year-old experiencing horrors (which is why BB is sometimes painful to write cuz I’m like oooooh I’m feeling this
 too much). To be fair, I’ve always said I’m the introverted version of Harrison (because I am lol our personality types are the same, not that I believe in those but since I was like 13 I’ve said this). But just like Lonan, Harrison has helped me now process some tough things this year that I’m not sure how else I would’ve survived. It’s important to me that I have fictional vessels to explore my own life with because it can help me identify problems & then learn to empathize with myself by empathizing with a character first.
Of course they’re also separate from me—they absolutely didn’t start as ME but as time goes on I start seeing myself in them particularly (Reeve sometimes too—our kindred spirits with processing toxic relationships <3). Maybe it’s because I am autistic, but I find it useful to understand my experiences via someone else. I love seeing the ways we can inform each other.
My TL;DR is I’m Harrison if he was Lonan so I guess I’m BB Harrison. Love this for me so much. But also add autism. Which is probably already there because: Lonan. LMAO and a dash of Reeve’s compartmentalization skills. And we have me!
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nounpolycule · 2 years ago
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Tagged by @spacewives-in-spacetime!!!! Thank you I love saying things thank you for the opportunity to do so <3
Three ships: River Song/Rose Tyler (and all other nounpolycule combos but I, Tumblr user riverrose, do not shut up about riverrose. Shocking, I know.), Rumbelle (listen. I would be a different person if Emilie de Ravin had not become a regular on OUAT), and let's go Percabeth since they were my intro to fandom being a thing that exists.
Last song: Began writing this to Love Like Woe by The Ready Set, ended it listening to Drag is Magic by Nina West. Currently listening to my "every upbeat song that was in my music library the day I created this playlist" playlist as I work on latework.
Last movie: Antman! Genuinely a solid 90%+ of the movies I watch are Thursday movie nights with Eliza lmao
Currently reading: Define "reading"? Books I would claim to be reading at the moment include Trail of Lightning by Rebecca Roanhorse, Yiddishkeit: Jewish Vernacular & the New Land, The Talmud: A Biography by Harry Freedman, Le Petit Prince in the original French, and a collection of essays on spider evolution. In practice? I am skimming my reading for my history class and my evolution class just thoroughly enough to get by.
Currently watching: Once Upon A Time (my first time rewatching his early episodes since deciding I don't actually hate Hook so so so so so so so so so much and he is in fact a meow meow), Dexter, and the Doctor Who episode Mummy On The Orient Express - I mean I am watching Doctor Who and have not watched the same episode 4 times in the last like 3 weeks. Don't look at me. Also I am theoretically watching Lost but we'll see when I have the brain power to continue it.
Currently consuming: Trail mix! Specifically I'm picking out the wasabi peas which will inevitably lead to me being whiny about not having any wasabi peas in my trail mix later.
Currently craving: A six cheese bagel with garden veggie shmear like I'm craving every waking moment. Obviously. Also craving rewatching the 1996 Moll Flanders mini series staring Alex Kingston.
Uuuuuuh I believe this is supposed to be tag 9 people?: @zaricats, @ashdoesfandom, @regenderate, @godlovesdykes, @berylgrace, @tenteen, @quantumshade, @lesbiandonnanoble, and @lesbiantwelve
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nyamcot · 2 years ago
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Maroonie the world to me right neow actually ouhhh.
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krockat · 3 months ago
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hey. Hey. person reading this right now. if you already feel bad about this, or are aware of this, and you for example have intrusive thoughts about dirt and stuff - don't feel so bad about this.
and i think the implication that 'everyone should feel after touching any public surface like they've touched dog poo'
and by extension that that should feel poison and by perhaps extension even perhaps Should make you feel dread, and perhaps even feel like a bad or shameful person for it?
i think, we should probably walk that back a little. i think it easily comes across as that, and could be triggering people's anxieties about this, in an unfair way.
absolutely - cleaning your hands good and keeping good hygiene is good, but the feeling bad about it part? you do not need to feel bad or anxious or dread about it during or about it.
you also do not have to Make yourself feel so bad about it.
and if you read this and realize maybe you haven't taken your hand hygiene seriously enough, you can always change and improve.
and that it will be okay. change, good change, can always start today. there are also many good handwashing tutorials that came into (re) creation after covid hit 2020.
also, for context - because I do not mean to be rude to op or previous commenter, i am specifically writing this as a person who has intrusive thoughts and dirt phobia, but am recovering,
and I just feel like this post has great points and perspectives that I don't often see shared - that I want to reblog! and also wanted to talk about that perhaps moral ocd/dirt ocd triggery thing, and not let that pass without that commentary.
and that also as a person with intrusive thoughts and dirt phobia, that YES oh my gosh THANK you,
it really is so scary sometimes and isolating how people do not even consider these things with hygiene, and I've also talked to people about it but they still don't see the point!
i know my fears and concerns about dirt are not Just irrational - and I feel like people often dismiss my knowledge about dirt and hygiene Because I have these diagnoses.
And i Guess it's easy to ignore my concerns and pleas if they can dismiss me because of them.
Washing my hands as I come home?? a given. also washing my hands before I touch my cat!
cats can also get covid (last I heard, that was mid early hit of the pandemic hitting though, science might have found more) and so like i do Not want to mess around - not for me Or for him!
also I've known so many people who don't wash their hands after using the bathroom.
tw for below: REALLY nasty hand hygiene
i had a parent (i disowned them) that used to sometimes skip out on washing his hands after he shat.
like I could hear him shitting and could also hear him flushing, not turning on the washbin, and immediately exiting the bathroom.
i tried to tell the rest of my family members and others but they just didn't believe me.
also if you touch your genitals (including dicks) or underwear in the bathroom, or touch the toilet, or the toilet roll that has been used, You should wash your hands! It's Not Cleannn
I Do Not get people who do not get that. at all.
in the vein of "how do you stay safe from getting sick", I wanna say that something I always noticed as a kid was that a lot of the time when I went to people's houses and we would leave at some point to the mall or the park or something and then come back home
I don't remember any of them washing their hands when we got back inside. they'd just immediately lead me back to their room or the living room or something, and then I'd feel incredibly self-conscious about going to their bathroom to wash my own hands. and I always thought it was absolutely bizarre because the way I was raised, the first thing you do when you come back home after taking your shoes and jacket off is go wash your hands. it's common sense. why on planet earth would you not wash your hands. you've just been touching a hundred public surfaces that could have anything on them and you think as soon as you set foot in your own house all the germs you've picked up just evaporate? it's absolutely insane to me to know that so many people don't bother washing their hands. WASH YOUR HANDS.
#also why i can't stand people using used toilet paper rolls for art#like use the household papers and cut them in two if you need a small!!!!#also a house paper roll that hasn't been touched by like. unsafe things too. like raw chicken or something#also i said including dicks because I have met many men who think dicks are somehow exempt from this#like they say 'yea ofc u clean your hands when you pee cause you have a vagina - i dont because I have a dick'#and like HUH#like atl 5 people have said this with their full chests and then people around not dispute it or nod along like#HUHHHHHHHHH#cw unsanitary#i wrote such a long comment - I wanted to shorten it but don't know how#i also hope it's still not too rude to prev people. like I just feel like it's so nice to see people talk about this#but that I also don't feel comfortable sharing it W out my commentary about ocd/intrusive stuff because#i know i have followers who also have my problems and some might have followed me because I've talked about#my issues too. and i am on a good path to recovery and stuff so this didn't trigger me - but I know in the past that it could have#like it's not that i don't take care of my hand hygiene - but that I would have felt like i should feel worse about it#and feel worse and scared about touching things outside. and like. that's really not a healthy way to think#like yes take care - but no you do not need to feel worse or bad.#it's okay.#as I tried to format my comment so that it's not so hard to read - esp cause it's so long.#hope that helps a bit#idk what to tag also#krockat krockar on others posts#I don't remember my tag that I used because replies doesn't feel right lol because that's another function#but i think maybe I used that tag for commenting on others posts before#oh maybe instead I should do#krockat krockar in comments#idk! confusing!
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spencerreidenjoyer · 7 months ago
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addicted to you | spencer reid x reader
Spencer isn’t inclined to be affectionate with you. He’s a socially awkward germaphobe, and you’re perfectly fine with it. However, being three months into your relationship, you can’t help but want more. Once Spencer gets a taste, he wants more too. A lot more.
part 1 | part 2 - insatiable
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wc: 6.1k, rating: explicit/18+
tags/warnings: established relationship, first times, virgin!spencer, early seasons spencer, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering praise kink, morning wood, morning sex, sex in unconventional places (like, not in public but not the bed lol), cunnilingus, creampie, implied multiple orgasms
a/n: no excuse for this insane fic but i was strangely inspired by a post i saw on twitter that i wanted to put a lighthearted (and horny) spin on. i definitely felt crazy writing this and i feel crazy posting this now so i sure hope you enjoy this insanity! (p.s you can also find this fic on ao3!)
You don’t mind that Spencer isn’t touchy. You understand, with Spencer being a germaphobe and a little socially awkward, that he isn’t inclined to kisses on the cheek or holding your hand. You’ve only been dating for three months, and he’s already getting better at doing these things, which makes your heart sing. 
Spencer is sweet, willing to do whatever it takes to make you happy. He used to shy away from your touch, but he’s gotten more comfortable with you. He lets you hold his hand when you’re out on a date, or he’ll kiss you chastely out in public. He lets you drape yourself over him when you’re sitting on the couch together watching a show, his arm around your waist to pull you in close. 
While you can understand Spencer’s hesitance towards public displays of affection, due to his awkwardness and anxieties about germs, you’re surprised he hasn’t initiated anything more in the privacy of his apartment (or yours). You’re starting to itch for it, something more, your attraction to Spencer Reid simply too overwhelming for it to simply be sweet and innocent anymore. Your body craves him desperately, because he’s so lovely and so fucking handsome. You’ve caught yourself staring at his hands more than once.
Tonight, you decide you’ll get what you want. You’re going to fuck Spencer Reid.
With your head buried in his shoulder during movie night, your hand runs down his body, getting dangerously close to his crotch – he jumps up off the couch, almost comedic, and stares at you like your touch had burned him. He looks positively freaked out. 
“Spencer,” you say, very confused that he’s not into this. What kind of man doesn’t like his girlfriend initiating sex? Hell, what kind of man doesn’t like sex? 
“I just–” Spencer pauses, like he’s struggling to find the words. “I can’t. Not right now, I–”
“Hey, it’s okay.” You assure him. “We don’t have to. Ever, if that’s what you want.”
His eyes widen again. “No! I want to, just– It’s difficult, right now.”
You cock your head slightly. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Spencer frowns slightly, seeming to know that talking about it is the most rational thing to do, but it’s not like that makes him want to do it. “Well, I– I’ve never done it before.”
Your mouth falls open, just a little, and you look up at him. While you don’t mean to judge, it certainly isn’t surprising. Spencer was fourteen when he was starting university, and his general awkward demeanour and extreme nerdiness would likely rule out any sexual encounters for him during his time in college. Spencer’s line of work would clearly make it difficult for him to maintain a relationship – you definitely lucked out with getting to date him – and he’s too much of a softie for one night stands. So, Spencer Reid being a virgin at twenty-seven definitely checks out.
“That’s okay,” you say softly. “It’s totally normal.”
Spencer’s lips press into a thin line. “Well, you know it took me a while to get used to being affectionate with you, so I think–”
“Being intimate with someone else is going to be a hurdle you’ll need time to cross, too?” 
Spencer looks up at you, eyes wet, looking at you like you’ve read him like an open book. He whispers, “Yeah.”
“That’s okay,” you repeat, even though you’re trying to come to terms with the fact that you’re not going to fuck Spencer Reid tonight. “I’ll– We’ll take it slow, if you want to try.”
“Yes, please.” He has a small smile on his lips as he looks up at you. “I– We could try doing something tonight, too. I just– I wasn’t expecting it earlier. I’m sorry for pushing you off like that.”
You shake your head, reassuring him that you aren’t offended by it by any means. Then, you ask, “You’re sure you want to try? Tonight?”
Spencer nods, as he reaches for your hand. He holds it gently, resting it on his thigh. “Yeah. I haven’t– It’s been a long time since I’ve been with someone, but I want to, with you.”
You lean in to kiss his cheek gently. “I’m glad you trust me.”
His eyes are soft and syrupy when he meets your gaze. “Of course I trust you.”
You squeeze Spencer’s thigh before pressing your lips to his, the familiarity of kissing Spencer making you both ease up a little more. Your kiss is gentle, sweet, just like every other kiss you've shared, but you let your hand slide up his thigh as you kiss him, and you can feel Spencer tensing up under your touch. You squeeze his thigh to reassure him, and you feel Spencer wriggle underneath where you're leaning your body weight on him to loosen up. 
Your hand skirts over his crotch, a hardness under your palm that makes you feel somewhat proud of yourself. Spencer’s breathing is heavy as he keeps kissing you, and keeps letting you touch him. You think he’s so cute. You just want to make him feel good. 
You push the waistband of his sweats down, tugging him out of his pants. His cock is the same shade of red as his cheeks, his shyness turning you on extremely. 
He doesn’t look down at himself, where you’re holding him – instead, his eyes are intently focused on your face. You don’t push him about it, instead leaning forward to kiss him as you start to stroke his cock. 
This time, it feels desperate. Spencer kisses you with more fervour, like a fire’s been lit within him, the pleasure running through his veins almost like liquid courage as he kisses you deeply. You’re more than happy to be doing this, letting Spencer lick into your mouth while you jerk him off. You appreciate the weight of him in your hand, imagining him inside of you – but perhaps you’re getting ahead of yourself. 
“You can touch me, Spence,” you say, in between Spencer kissing you fervently. His hands have been cupping your face, but otherwise he seems awkward with them. You pull back slightly, and while it’s adorable that he’s still holding your face sweetly, you drag his hands down to your chest, in the oversized t-shirt you’d stolen from Spencer’s drawer. “Like this.”
Spencer’s large hands cup your breasts through the shirt perfectly. He squeezes tentatively. You bite your lip as his palms brush over your nipples, as he manhandles you just a little. It’s more force than you’re used to from Spencer, kneading and squeezing and feeling you, and that makes your head spin. 
Daringly, Spencer’s hands slip under your shirt, as he leans back in to kiss you. You feel his calloused hands on your skin as he feels you up, making you shudder. His touch isn’t demanding nor pushy, simply exploratory as he feels your soft skin under his fingertips. 
Your arousal is pumping through your system, Spencer’s gentle submissiveness like a drug you can’t kick. The more you touch him, the more he reacts; touching you more, whimpering and gasping against your lips, into your neck.
“Come on, baby,” you coo in his ear, your hand speeding up on Spencer’s hardness. He’s leaking pathetically, wet in your palm, and he squirms underneath you. 
“I’m– It’s too–” Spencer cuts himself off with a helpless whine, like he can’t control himself. His hands grip your waist tight. “Please–”
“Mm,” you hum sympathetically, while you thoroughly enjoy seeing Spencer like this. “Wanna cum like this, baby?”
Spencer’s breathing hard. He can’t get the words out, but he shakes his head. You slow your strokes, to an excruciating pressure on his length. “No? Then tell me, Spence.”
“Inside you,” He gasps, eyes squeezed shut. 
You absolutely should not let Spencer fuck you for the first time on his couch, but he’s desperate and your resolve is steadily crumbling. “You– You’re sure?”
“Please,” Spencer gasps, his eyes pleading with you helplessly.
So, you pull your hand back and push your shorts off instead. Your panties come off in one fell swoop, and you sit back onto the couch with your legs spread. Spencer’s eyes are wide and his lips are parted as he looks at you, takes the sight of you in. 
Then he’s like a baby deer, standing up and fumbling to get his sweatpants off. You can’t help but giggle at his awkward movements, in his excitement and eagerness to get to touch you, to get to fuck you. He’s quick to get between your legs, his hardness nudging at your entrance already. 
“Mm, not yet, Spence,” you hum. You reach for his hand, taking his wrist as you guide his fingers to your clit. “You know what to do, right?”
He turns his wrist so his fingers – God, his fingers – are poised almost elegantly above your clit. He presses down and starts to circle his fingers against you. You gasp.
“Thought you didn’t– oh– Didn’t have much experience,” you gasp. You hold onto Spencer’s forearm tight, throwing your head back as Spencer pleasures you.
Spencer huffs out a laugh. “I might not be experienced, but I’m not a prude– I remember the
 stuff I’ve seen. Eidetic memory and all.”
“Stuff,” you laugh. “I’m sure the porn you’ve watched must’ve helped, darling.”
He slips his fingers into your wetness with an unsurprising ease, considering how turned on you are by him. He hits spots inside you you’ve never thought were possible to reach, but they make electricity zip up your spine. You moan as he crooks his fingers into you, rocking them in and out with a wet squelch.
Spencer grins at you. “You were saying?”
“You’re a cocky bastard, you know that?” you huff, your tone teetering between awfully turned on and mildly annoyed. 
“You like it,” Spencer says, assured of himself, and you smile, because you really do.
“My love,” you moan, as Spencer presses his fingers into you, back out. “You should try fucking me now.”
Spencer’s fingers are still inside of you, and his eyes are wide as he looks up at you. “You think so?”
You smile at him. “If you think you’re up for it.”
You mourn the loss of Spencer’s fingers, but as he’s mumbling to himself and lining his cock up with your entrance, you can only coo at how adorable you find all of this. And how turned on you are, but that’s more than obvious to the both of you by now. 
He looks to you, like he’s looking for reassurance. You nod. Even in the silence, he’s gotten the confidence to push his cock into you, the thickness of his tip breaching your hole. You gasp as you stretch around him, your cunt making space for him as he slides in, excruciatingly slow. “Spencer–”
Spencer lets out a whine as your tight heat engulfs him, his length swallowed up by you as he sinks deeper into you. “Oh, my God–”
“Just like that, baby,” you moan, your leg hooking around Spencer’s leg to coax him forward, closer to you. “Fuck.”
“Do I– When should I–” Spencer gasps, unable to form a coherent sentence with the pleasure swimming through his bloodstream. 
“You can start moving when you don’t feel like you’re going to blow your load if you breathe the wrong way,” you joke, but Spencer does seriously look like he’s going to finish any second. “Hey. Deep breaths, baby.”
Spencer’s brows are furrowed and his eyes are squeezed shut as he breathes in hard, in through his nose and out through his mouth. He’d told you to do that when he’d helped you through a panic attack one time, and while you feel bad that he feels so nervous about all this, it’s extremely amusing to you right now. 
“Look at me,” you say, trying your best not to laugh. “You’re doing great, love.”
Spencer pulls his lower lip between his teeth, his eyes looking to you for validation. 
“So good for me, darling,” you coo, your hand on his hip, while your thumb draws little circles into his skin. “Are you feeling okay?”
“Yeah,” Spencer shudders, voice high-pitched and a little breathy. “I– You feel really good.”
“Yeah? It’ll feel even better when you start moving, sweetheart,” you hum. “You think you can do that for me? Slow, out then back in.”
Spencer whimpers, nodding, and he takes another deep breath in. His hands on your waist, he pulls out halfway before pressing back into you, and he moans so loudly your ears ring. “So– So tight, you–”
“That’s good, yeah? Feels good?” you coo. “Come on, baby. More.”
Spencer rests one of his arms on the back of the couch, holding himself steady and getting him that much closer to you. He starts to thrust in and out, starting off slow as he finds a rhythm. 
His thrusts are erratic, but you’re so wildly turned on and it still feels amazing, because it’s Spencer. 
Spencer is frantic, desperate, bracing himself against the couch as he fucks into you. Maybe pounding into you is a better phrase to use, because he’s fucking you like a madman, till the couch is squeaking under both your weight. You cry out, feeling Spencer drilling into you – and it feels so good.
“Oh, God,” Spencer whines. “You– It’s so good, oh–”
“Yeah, baby?” You rock your hips along with him, burying Spencer deeper into you. You clench so each thrust is a little tighter, and each time Spencer fucks into you, he moans a little louder. 
Amidst Spencer’s whines and pretty noises, you watch his face morph with pleasure, feeling assured that he’s enjoying this as much as you are. In fact, he’s probably enjoying this more. As you’re lost in your train of thought, admiring Spencer’s gorgeous face, you’re startled when you feel Spencer’s load inside of you, hot and slick. His hips flush against your ass, Spencer shudders as he rides out his orgasm, body trembling from the force of his pleasure.
“Oh, Spence,” you giggle, a little dizzy from how turned on you are, from watching Spencer lose himself just like that. You reach up to cup his face, your thumb gentle on his cheek. “Was that good?”
“Oh,” Spencer mumbles, seemingly brought back to reality. He pulls back, taking the sight of you in. “I’m– I’m good, I’m sorry–”
“Don’t be,” you say. “You’re so cute. It’s so hot.”
“I mean, you are too, but– But you haven’t–”
“You wanna make it up to me, then?” You smile, gentle and warm and Spencer nods like he’s eager to please you. 
You kiss him while he pulls out, replacing the thickness of his cock with two fingers, which fit into you easily. Like before, Spencer presses his fingers into you, slick and wet and squelchy. Spencer curls them and fingerfucks you like a pro, like he’s done this a hundred times. With his face pressed into your shoulder and your arms slung around his neck, Spencer fucks you on his fingers until your toes are curling and you’re screaming his name. You cry out as you orgasm, shaking as Spencer fucks you through it. 
You’re almost embarrassed when you finally come back to your senses, no longer reeling from the intensity of your orgasm. Spencer is kissing your jawline sweetly, his clean hand stroking your hair.
“Hey,” Spencer says softly, somehow knowing you needed to hear him. He parrots you from earlier, “Was– Was that good?”
“So good, my love,” you murmur into his shoulder. Then, after a quiet moment, “I thought you needed some time to get comfortable with being intimate.” 
Spencer pauses for a moment, like he’s pondering it, before he says, “I know. But for you, I think I’d do anything.”
That’s all Spencer manages to get out before you kiss him again. It’s tender and sweet, the intensity behind your kiss no longer lustful but full of adoration and love. You feel like you could sob right now, but you manage to hold it back.
Spencer gets into the shower with you, which you’re surprised by, but his hands are soft on your body as he cleans you up. You shampoo his hair for him, even though he has to lean forward a little so you can reach. 
You end up falling asleep in Spencer’s bed, curled up in his arms. 
You don’t dream at night, but when you wake up with a hardness poking against your thigh and Spencer’s gentle snoring in your ear, you think you might be. 
In your dreariness, you reach behind you, the angular sharpness of Spencer’s hip bone under your palm. He’s warm, cuddled up against you, and the tickling of his breath on your neck tells you that this isn’t a dream. 
“Spence,” you whisper, shaking him slightly. You watch as he blinks himself awake, drowsy as he comes to focus on your face. “Hey.”
“Good morning,” Spencer says, his voice rough with disuse. “What’s up?”
“You are,” you smile, a little too pleased, as your hand snakes down toward his crotch. 
He squeaks at the contact, your soft hand on his hardness, “Um, sorry about that.”
“Don’t be,” you laugh. “Had a good dream?”
He pulls his lower lip between his teeth. “About you, yeah.”
“Wanna tell me about it?” you goad, wiggling your eyebrows. 
Spencer’s cheeks somehow get even redder than they already were, but he shakes his head. “I want– I want to have sex, though.”
Your eyes widen. “Now?”
“Do you have the time for it?” He asks, sheepish. “I– I want to fuck you again.”
Your cheeks flush at Spencer’s sudden crudeness. You think about what Spencer could’ve possibly dreamt up, wonder how Spencer could possibly be confident enough to tell you straight up that he wants to fuck you. That phrase probably hadn’t been in Spencer’s lexicon until about twelve hours ago – while Spencer was smart – a literal genius – his innocence was completely understandable. 
“We have time,” you exhale, looking back into his eyes after looking at the clock. “I only have to be at the office in a couple of hours.”
“Good,” Spencer says, leaning in to kiss down your neck. His hands are frisky already, slipping underneath your shirt. Spencer splays his hands over your stomach, before reaching up to cup your breasts in his hands. 
“You like touching me like this, don’t you, baby?” you chuckle breathlessly, already feeling weak in the knees from the way Spencer holds you. “Mm, I’m surprised.”
“Why is that?” His words are slightly muffled against your skin, too busy kissing you to make himself sound coherent. His hands are rough against the softness of your skin, and you moan from the way he’s handling you.
“Yesterday you couldn’t even tell me you wanted to fuck,” you croon, thoroughly pleased. “And now you’re touching me like you know what you’re doing. It’s so hot.”
“I– I just can’t get enough of you,” Spencer admits, his earnest words turning you on extremely.
“Now you’re just horny,” you laugh, feeling Spencer’s hand slide over your underwear.
“Mm, you’re so wet right now too,” Spencer murmurs in your ear, his warm breath and raspy voice sending a shiver down your spine. Where’d he learn to talk like that? You squeeze your thighs together, but that doesn’t stop Spencer from feeling the wetness between your legs, soaking through your panties. 
“All for you, baby,” you gasp, as Spencer’s fingers slip past the band of your underwear, deftly stroking your clit. “Spencer–”
“Can I fuck you? Please?” He pleads, breathy, his hips already rutting forward against your ass. 
His eagerness makes your head spin, his sudden confidence in the realm of sex surprising – maybe it’s cockiness, but you still find that stupidly attractive – but it is certainly welcomed. 
“Yes, Spence, please,” you shudder, the word yes leaving your lips enough for Spencer to pull your underwear down, over the swell of your ass. He fumbles with his own boxers for a moment, but soon you feel his hard, leaking tip pressed to your butt. He rocks his hips back and forth, desperately seeking whatever friction he can get. 
Lost in his own pleasure, Spencer is quick to slide his cock between your legs, the wetness from your cunt making it easy for him to rut into the tight, slick space. Like this, his length rubs up against you, the head of his cock nudging at your clit with every thrust of his hips. It feels primal, Spencer so far gone that he isn’t even fucking you proper, content with the slick, tight space between your thighs and your pussy. You wonder if you need to tell him, but Spencer’s groan in your ear is shaky as his tip catches on your hole.
His arms wrapped around you, both of you moan as Spencer finally sinks his cock into you. He slides in too easily, so easily you almost think he’d hadn’t meant to do it. Maybe he hadn’t, but you’d gotten there in the end, where you both need to be; Spencer buried inside of you.
It’s so different from yesterday, the angle when he presses into you from behind so exhilarating, so good. He’s just as desperate as last night, but there’s a sort of reckless confidence in his movements. His hands slide under your shirt to grab at your tits again, rocking his hips while he practically gropes you. It’s so hot your head spins. You feel like you’re going to explode.
“Spencer!” You cry out, your voice ripping its way out of your throat. Pleasure surges through you like electricity, Spencer’s thick cock hitting all the right spots from this angle. His eager desperation turns you on to no end, as you let him take you from behind. While you weren’t expecting lazy, morning sex at all, the intensity and desperation he fucks you with right now makes you think you could get used to this.
Spencer’s whine has your head spinning. His hips don’t slow, more rhythmic than yesterday but still as needy. “Fuck, you feel so good.”
“Yeah?” You coo breathlessly. You’re so fucking turned on, and every time Spencer drives his hips into you you can hear how wet you really are. “You’re doing so good for me, Spence, fucking me so good.”
“You like it? Is it good?” Spencer gasps, always so eager to please you.
“So good,” you moan. You’re still sore from last night, but the pleasure Spencer is giving you right now overrides all of that. You would love for him to wake you up like this every day. “I’m close, baby.”
“Oh,” Spencer says, like he’s surprised you’re already getting off on this, on him– “What do you need me to do?”
“Just keep going, Spence,” you gasp. “Keep fucking me just like this.”
Spencer’s hum is breathy, high-pitched. Somehow, his grip on you gets tighter, holding you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear. The force he fucks you with is so wildly arousing. You’re so enamoured, and so turned on.
Your orgasm creeps up on you, slow and steady as it bubbles up inside of you. You squeeze your eyes shut, focusing on the dirty, rough way Spencer fucks you, and then you feel his soft lips on your neck again. He isn’t properly kissing you – more like slobbering all over your neck, but you cry out as he does so, thighs pressing together as you reach your orgasm. You’re shaking through it, clenching around Spencer as you come, and Spencer’s gasping as your tight pussy pushes Spencer over the edge too. You feel his come inside of you, cock twitching as his load spurts hot and heavy into your cunt. You sob, feeling Spencer slow his thrusts as he rides out his orgasm.
“Holy shit,” you say, your voice coming out ragged and hoarse. You feel like a different woman, being fucked ruthlessly by your boyfriend in his bed for the first time. You can’t get enough. 
“I love you,” Spencer says quietly, earnest. It makes you shudder. 
“You’re crazy,” you laugh, taken aback at how Spencer’s returned to his gentle, soft self. “I love you too, you madman.”
“I can’t resist you,” he murmurs in your ear, the vibrations of his raspy morning voice almost soothing.
You turn around to face him, Spencer still holding you in his arms. He smiles warmly at you, and you lean in to kiss him. “You’re so cute.”
“Wanna go again?” he asks, somewhat timid. 
Your eyes widen. You try to hide your grin, but it doesn’t work. “Someone’s desperate, huh?”
Spencer flushes a gorgeous red. “Maybe a little?”
“I have to get ready for work,” you sigh, actually a little bummed that you can't spend all day fucking Spencer. “Maybe tonight?”
“Okay,” Spencer smiles. “Want me to drive you back to yours?”
You grin. “You’re the best!”
Work is relatively uneventful, numbers and Excel spreadsheets; and all you can think about is Spencer’s rapid change in demeanour over the last twelve hours, his innocence torn away by you, leaving behind a horny, insatiable man. You’re kind of proud of yourself for that. 
So, you can’t blame yourself for being excited to get back to Spencer’s. Lately, you’ve been staying over more, your apartment simply a place to house your wardrobe. Maybe you’ll talk to Spencer about living together.
“Hey, Spence,” you say, pleased when Spencer kisses you as he greets you at the door. 
Even with all the probable germs on you from being out all day, Spencer’s surprisingly clingy, hands on your waist as he stumbles in behind you, as you set the takeout you’d brought over on his dining table. Spencer leans in behind you, kissing your cheek then down your neck.
“Hey, what’s with you, baby?” you chuckle, very much enjoying the way Spencer’s hands slide down your waist to your hips, grabbing the meat of your thighs through your dress pants.
“Missed you,” Spencer answers simply, but even you can tell there’s something in his voice that implies he’s looking for something more. 
“I’m sorry I had to leave you alone the whole day, my love. I’m sure you must’ve found something to busy yourself with, though?” You hum, teasing. You have a good idea of where this is going.
Spencer’s quiet for a moment, so you turn to look at him. His lips are pressed into a thin line, looking almost nervous, and his cheeks are flushed red. Spencer finally presses his body close to yours, and you feel it–
“Spence,” you grin, “Someone’s happy to see me.”
“Thought about it– Thought about you all day,” Spencer mumbles. “You promised.”
“What did I promise, baby?” you egg him on, eager to hear him say it, even though you definitely know what he’s going to ask. 
“That we would do it again tonight,” he answers, but you shoot him a look. “You said we would have sex again tonight.”
“Twice in one day? I don’t know, baby,” you pretend to sound disinterested.
Spencer looks at you with wide eyes. Respectful as ever, he clears his throat. “Please? If you’re tired we don’t have to, but I really want to. Only if you want to, though. This involves both of us, I don’t want to impose–”
You giggle, reaching to hold his hands. “God, you’re perfect.”
“What–?” Spencer barely gets the word out before you’re kissing him. He’s happy to do so, holding your face gently, matching your energy perfectly. You feel his cock pressing against you. 
“I turned you into a sex fiend,” you laugh, between kissing him, “And you’re still thinking about making sure I’m into it too.”
“Of course, why wouldn’t I be?” Spencer’s brows furrow slightly, like he can’t comprehend how he could be into it if you weren’t too. “And I- I’m not a sex fiend, I just–”
Smiling, you whisper sultrily, “I think you should take me right here, baby.”
“Oh–” You cut Spencer off with another kiss, and he squeaks as you reach for his half-hard cock through his sweatpants. You’re positively delighted that Spencer’s like this, for you.
Spencer kisses you deeply, leaning forward until the small of your back hits the edge of the table. His hands coming up to your ass, he lifts you up, getting you to lay back on the table. You gasp, as Spencer kisses down the column of your neck, his hands making quick work of the buttons of your dress shirt. His lips are soft against your skin, at the swell of your breasts. Your shirt gets pushed off your shoulders. You feel him unhook your bra with a surprising ease, tossed aside, and then his hands are grabbing your tits like they were made for him. His thumbs brush over your nipples, a little forceful as he kneads at you, and your head is spinning. 
“Spencer,” you moan, as he kisses down your stomach, unbuttoning your pants to reveal your soaked-through underwear. He smiles up at you, his messy mop of hair a lovely sight. 
“Can I
?” Spencer’s big brown eyes dart down to where you’re soaked, then back up at you.
Your eyes widen. “Yes. If you want to.”
Spencer grins. “Of course I want to.”
His fingers are gentle on your hips as he pulls your panties off, wasting no time in spreading your legs so he can get between them. Your eyes are wide as you watch him, feeling kind of self-conscious over how eager he is to be doing this. Knelt between your thighs, he lifts one of your legs and swings them over his shoulder. You can feel his stubble on the soft skin of your inner thigh, his nose nudging against your clit. His tongue comes up, wet and hot, as he tastes you for the first time. “Spencer–”
He presses his face impossibly closer, more urgent in eating you out. You watch as his eyes flutter shut, his jaw flexing as his tongue works on you, and you’re trembling already. Spencer’s extremely good with his mouth, and you’re surprised at how good he’s making you feel, considering he likely hasn’t done this before. The sounds of his mouth are wet and squelchy and so obscene, and you would feel almost embarrassed, were it not for how into this Spencer seems to be too, 
With your hands in his hair, you cry out when Spencer’s tongue circles your swollen clit, jolts of pleasure sent through your body. You can’t think straight when Spencer’s face is buried between your legs, eating you out like he was made for this. All you can think about is how gifted Spencer is with his tongue, and how you wish you could do this all night. 
“Please, love,” you moan, “Need you to fuck me.”
Spencer hums in approval, the vibrations between your legs making you jump. He makes a little wet slurping noise before he comes back up, and you feel your cunt throb when he looks up at you with his lovely, wide brown eyes, and his chin wet and messy with your slick. Spencer wipes his face with the back of his hand, and you’re so turned on you might just explode.
“I love you,” you tell him earnestly. “I think this is the craziest thing I’ve ever done. I love you.”
“What is? Having sex on my dinner table?” Spencer quips, as he sets your legs down and stands back up. He has a cocky grin plastered on his face. 
You roll your eyes playfully. “First time for everything, right?”
Spencer nods, smiling, before he leans forward to kiss you sweetly. You watch as he pulls his sweatpants down, his cock bobbing up, red and angry and rock hard. You feel yourself salivating at the sight, but decide that he needs to fuck you right now.
“Spencer,” you mewl, feeling breathless as you watch him wrap a hand around himself, stroking his length. Concentration is written all over his face and it makes you want to kiss him. 
“I’ve been wanting to do this all day,” Spencer says, pressing his cock forward until he’s lined up with your entrance. It’s so tantalising, the way the blunt head of his cock threatens to slip into you. You’re so wet and so loose for him, and you need him inside of you now.
You gasp when he finally pushes in, his thick cock splitting you in half as he slides into you. The pressure is so perfect, the slow draw of his hips as he takes care not to rush, wanting to take care of you. Even with all this still being new for Spencer, he still focuses on you, puts you first. You’re not sure if you’re swooning over him, or the way his cock fits inside you perfectly.
You don’t need to encourage him to start moving. He rocks his hips slowly, somehow already familiar with your body, and makes you feel like you could explode with pleasure. 
He leans forward, pressing his body to yours as he kisses you. Like this, Spencer presses into you deeper, fucks you slow and deep and loving. The edge of the table is absolutely digging into your back, but you don’t care when every sense of yours is filled with Spencer, getting to taste and touch and hear him. You taste yourself on his tongue, hear the sloppy way he thrusts into you, your skin burning wherever he’s pressed up against you. 
Burying his face in your neck, Spencer pants in your ear, hot and heavy as he fucks you, giving you everything you need. Your head is swimming with arousal, as Spencer presses you against the table and fucks you like his life depends on it. “You feel so good, fuck, so good–”
“I’m so close, baby,” you cry out, the pace absolutely ruthless as Spencer fucks you. You didn’t think his stamina would be this good, considering your boyfriend’s lanky stature and abhorrence towards exercise. You certainly wouldn’t mind doing this kind of cardio with him more often. “Please, Spence–”
“Let go, I– I’m here for you,” Spencer stumbles over his words, but he’s so sweet that you’re losing yourself, your orgasm crashing into you like a tidal wave. You scream as you reach your peak, your toes curling while Spencer fucks you through it, shaking as pleasure and arousal zips through your body. Spencer’s hips stutter as the tightness of your pussy has him reeling, too close too quickly. 
While his hips keep a steady pace, you’re feeling loopy as Spencer continues to fuck you. You hold his head close to you, kissing his forehead as you murmur, “You’re so hot, Spence. Made me come so quickly, and you held out for me? So good for me, baby. Are you close?”
Spencer whines, a pitiful noise in the back of his throat. “Please, I’m so close, need you–”
“I’m right here, baby,” you coo, stroking his sweat-matted hair sweetly. You’re so enamoured with him. “Gonna cum inside me, Spence? Fill me up with your–”
You don’t even get to finish your dirty talk before Spencer is moaning, coming inside of you. It feels like he’s released so much inside of you, hot and messy as he fucks you through his own high. His chest heaves as he pants, trembling as he reels from the intensity of his orgasm. Spencer’s hips slow to a stop, and he mouths at your neck mindlessly until he seems to get his bearings back. You imagine you must look a mess, sweat and spit all over you, your makeup from a long day of work likely running by now. 
Spencer gets up off of you, so both of you have space to catch your breaths. You feel Spencer slip out of you with a slick ‘pop’, and feel his release trickle out of you just moments after. You stifle a quiet moan, but when you look up at Spencer, his eyes couldn’t possibly leave the sight between your legs. His lips are parted slightly, pupils blown wide, as he watches you drip with his release. You feel Spencer’s cock, resting against your inner thigh, twitch slightly. 
“Woah there, cowboy,” you chuckle, out of breath. “Give me a minute to recover.”
His eyes practically twinkle when they dart up to look at you. He’s like an excited puppy as he asks, “Again?”
You shake your head, laughing, and sit up to kiss Spencer again. “Maybe we could try something new?”
Spencer grins, nodding eagerly. It definitely seems like he’s down for whatever, as long as it’s with you. 
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