#made this to be my new pinned post lmao
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AYO I'm Percy ! I'm a full time Artist & Monkey Variety Vtuber streamer from Melbourne Australia ❤️💙💛! I draw commissions and play games on twitch!
This is where you can find me 👇
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Twitch: http://twitch.tv/percivores Twitter: https://twitter.com/percivore 18+Discord: http://discord.gg/S3jFWMRT64 Tiktok: https://www.tiktok.com/@percivore more: http://linktr.ee/percivore
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You can support me here! Commission info: http://vgen.co/percivore (You can find my Trello queue on my vgen!) 18+Patreon: http://patreon.com/pervivore Ko-fi: https://ko-fi.com/percivore Online Store: https://percistore.bigcartel.com Throne: https://throne.com/percivore
(follow for updates on when store is open and closed.)
Reblogs Appreciated ! Love, Percy ! xox
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an assortment of object ocs :D
#osc#object show community#object shows#object show art#object oc#object show oc#my art#ive posted some of them before i think#particularly chair umbrella projector and safety pin#they were originally based on emojis!#but i want to actually use some of them properly#the first chunk of them have also existed for a while but they were made before i rly started leaning into object bio :)#and prize wheel and wheelbarrow are new entirely!!! though based on basically background guys i made for a fic i never posted#(and never will LMAO)#but!!! yayyy!!#also technically prize wheel and wheelbarrow are specifically meant to be ONE ocs#BUT i figured if i was working on them i may as well start fleshing out object ocs in general!!!
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How’s Fields of Mistria? You mentioning it was the second time I heard of it, the first time being in passing, so I’m not too knowledgeable about the game.
AWWW THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ASKING!!
Fields of Mistria is SUPER fun, since there's not much to do in it after you've completed the first year right now, I've dedicated myself to breeding and collecting all the seasonal variants of horses so I can name them after the four Horsemen of the Apocalypse!
I also named all my barns after metamorphised lovers in greek myth because I have exactly one thought running through my head at any given point in time (Currently there's Crocus Coop where I keep my (gorgeous wonderful lovely adorable ouugh I LOVE THEMMM!!) blue chickens
Cypress Barn where I keep my wonderful cows (who have been with me the longest and whom I cherish immensely! I'm not sure if Autumn cows are possible but I'm definitely aiming for a barn of all red and autumnal cows for obvious reasons)
Minthe Barn where I keep all of my other large animals like sheep, alpacas and my very first beloved Chiron (black and white) and Iris (brown with spots) (the foal is Rigel) 🥺
And Hyacinthus Barn where I have a collection of small animals like rabbits, capybaras and my PRIZED DUCKS LEDA (the pretty blue and green duckie) AND CYCNUS (the pure white duck meant to mimic a swan!!) Even though it's technically a coop, I mistakenly labelled it a barn when I was inputting the name and I never changed it LOL
My farm is also named after THE metamorphosized lover, Daphne herself, so it's called Laurel Farm
And I'm planning for my Seasonal Horse barn to be named after the poplar since I quite like Leuke's story and I think she's fitting of housing the horses that will be the steeds of War, Pestilence, Conquest and Famine :)
Bonus: My house is still small and eclectically decorated, but keeping in theme with my farm, I do hope to go for a flower/garden theme
<33
#Thank you for the opportunity to gush oml#ginger answers asks#I also have a ton to say about the characters and story and lore of FOM so far but I don't want to have the post be too long hehe#I'm very happy with my progress even though I know there are a lot of people who are further along than me esp after they finished#the main content of the early access#I like going nice and slow since there's no new content scheduled to come out until like November LMFAO#Hopefully I'll have my horse army by then :)#I want to get a barn of sheep and name them after each of Hyacinthus' siblings tbh#I also was a Pleiad coop#But if I made a Maia chicken I would be morally obligated to make a Hermes chicken#And I don't want to think about kinassigning any of the Olympians types or rarities of breedable animals in Mistria because then I'd have t#make seasonal variants for Zeus Poseidon and Hades#Which is a lot of space#(And a lot of resources)#Sadly none of my animals have any ornaments like hats or bowties or pins#I haven't invested in those yet because I am poor :.)#I still don't have all silver tools either LMAO#Anyway thank you for such a thoughtful ask I really appreciate it!!#fields of mistria
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imagine if i really did create a new blog for every passing interest the way my social anxiety says i need to or everyone will hate me. i would literally have ten million blogs. and then i'd just have anxiety about where to reblog everything.
#lou is loud#as if my pinned post doesn't literally say multifandom and list the main fandoms i post????#as if people are going to come at me with knives if i post a new fandom???#imagine if everyone on tumblr saw the new deadpool and wolverine movie and all made new blogs to talk about it#that would be INSANE. like me. apparently. help.#i didn't see that movie btw i still don't have the attention span for most movies#and i still am not dragging my photosensitive ass to stare at a massive moving light display for two hours lmao#helth
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Basics ✨
💖 Call me Hope, Princess or Dazzler! 💖 she/her ✨cis aceflux demiromantic 💖 I am 30 years old! Minors please dni, thank you. 💖 I interact from my main, HopethePrincess! 💖 My Carrd has information about my f/os, both romantic and platonic! Feel free to browse. I'm not personally comfortable with sharing my romantic f/os, but as long as you don't chat with me about it I'm fine with you following! 💖 tl;dr version of this point, I'm not a proshipper as you probably define it, absolutely do not interact with me if you ship adults with minors or ship incest. Thank you. Basically, I cannot keep up with proship or anti labels anymore, because the definitions for these terms keep changing. I've seen takes like "shipping w/ a villain or criminal is proship" and "having platonic f/os who are underage is proship and pe/do behavior" so fuck it lol. I am just gonna lay out what I don't like in my dni, which is below the cut.
DNI 🚫
❌ Minors! Literally anyone under 18 years old. I'm an adult and I don't want to talk to, be talked to, or be seen by minors ❌ Shippers I don't want to interact: incest shippers, minor and adult shippers (regardless of if you're aging characters up or down) Charlastor shippers, Radioapple shippers, Zemyx shippers, Xigdem shippers, thank you! ❌ Fatphobes, esp if you claim to be "concerned about fat people's health" ❌ Homophobes, biphobes, transphobes, aphobes, every kind of LGBTphobe get outta here
BYF 💭
❓ I do not send anons, I always send asks from my main and sign it as this blog! ❓ If you dislike something I like, please just block me, I promise I already know how much people hate Hazbin Hotel or FNAF or whatever else you hate lol ❓ I am diagnosed with borderline personality disorder. I use "problematic" media and have "problematic" ships to cope with it and express borderline thoughts and fantasies in a contained and fictitious manner. My therapist of nearly a decade has said and still says this is healthy behavior, so don't start with me. ❓ I will occasionally reblog smutty stuff. I always tag it as #nsfw and/or #nsft! I do have a nsfw blog now as well, feel free to ask for that if you are over 18! ❓ Occasionally there may be a bloody art or two, I tag every single variation of tw I can think of for these but I'm sorry if I miss the one you use!! Please let me know if you need something tagged.
blinkies were made on blinkiescafe!
dividers used on this post, and probably a shitload of my posts, are from animatedglittergraphics-n-more and cafekitsune!
#finally made my new pinned post!#FINALLY after like months of saying I'd make one lmao#pinned#pinned post
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me, my beloved, and a bunch of our ocs
#yes i am reposting the thing in my new pinned post just to show off the one i made for my partner lmao#my art#my ocs#also not my ocs fhdgjfg#⚡️
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¡! drunk on you | marius von hagen
cw: this one’s very messy, established relationship (engaged), fem!reader, use of aphrodisiac chocolate (and it works. real good), unprotected sex, creampies, oral (fem receiving), overstimulation, squirting, slight spanking, restraint (you cuff him to the bed), think this is all
a/n: don‘t know what monster took over me here tbh but i hope u enjoy lmao
also posted on my ao3
well, fuck.
marius was unable to concentrate. the words that were being thrown during the meeting were going in one ear and leaving the other one and he simply was too frustrated to even continue on.
“apologies, ladies and gentlemen, there is a little emergency i have to take care of. would you mind coming in tomorrow around this time again? i would like to re-start this meeting then”, marius announced, hands shaking.
once the board agreed on a time, they all started to leave and marius took out his phone again to send you a message.
“i’m coming home. you better be there.”
–
oh.
that was the only thing you could think and say once you read his last message of him coming home. you giggled, happy that the chocolate actually worked and grabbed one piece of it, too. if he already had some, might as well eat one too, right?
you were anxiously waiting for him to come home as you slowly felt your body tingle, every single sense slowly feeling like it’s heightened before he slammed the front door open and shut, finally entering his bedroom where he had you pinned underneath him within the second.
“all that’s been in my fucking mind throughout the entire meeting was that i wanted to fuck you dumb until you either pass out or i physically can’t cum anymore. i ended my meeting early because of this and now i have to re-do that entire shit again tomorrow.”
his hands were around your wrists, pinning them on both sides next to your head as he had your legs locked in between his knees, not allowing you to move an inch. his eyes were looking straight at yours, that piercing gaze had you squirming in his tight grasp.
“please, do. please fuck me”, you breathed out, just before all control left his body and his lips were against yours, his hands letting go of your wrists and your arms were wrapped around his neck; the kiss so full of passion and need and desperation – all that either of you could think of was fucking each other into a brainless mess.
you couldn’t remember the last time you had seen your financé so needy or horny – not that you were complaining, though. it was endearing; he was so impatient that he simply ripped your clothes apart to get them off your skin, not that you were any different when it was about his suit that made him look so fucking handsome.
when you whined to complain about the wasted clothes, he shushed you and mumbled softly into your ear; “i’ll buy you new ones. anything you want. no matter the fucking price.” he started nibbling your earlobe, making you giggle. “you deserve the world, princess.”
“stop talking so much and fuck me, idiot”, you mumbled, “i need you.”
before he could reply, you pulled him back into a kiss as you were pulling off pants as quickly as possible. “shut up”, you mumbled again and again.
“fucking minx. first you get me fucking going with that chocolate and now you want me to shut up, huh?”, he groaned, pinning your hands against the pillows again. he slowly wandered down, kissing his way down your jaw, neck, breasts and stomach, just before he looked up at you with a smirk and dove into your pussy, tongue licking up your entrance before he started playing with your clit. he slowly eased two of his fingers inside as well, your hands entangling with his hair as you started to move your hips up and down for some more friction.
“no, no, baby, don’t you fucking dare. i eat you the way i like to and you stay still like my pretty little slut, hm? just take it, baby”, he stopped for a moment to tease and edge you for a moment, giggling innocently as you stared daggers at him.
“come on, please”, you whined, desperation clear and evident in your tone. “please. don’t tease me.”
“but it’s so much fun”, he replied, before his lips were back on your clit, sucking as he fingered you simultaneously having you trash around again, so close to your release. “mhm, tasting so good, baby, how about you come for me, hm? let me taste your delicious cum.”
the groan he let out as he felt you lose the last shred of self-control before your body was trembling in aftershocks from your orgasm was probably the best sound you had ever heard. just as you were hoping he’d come up and finally fuck you properly, his lips were reattached to your clit and he was back at making you lose your mind on his tongue alone, overstimulating your poor clit over and over until all you could do was lay there breathlessly and tears brimming in your eyes from how good it felt.
“babe, shit, p-please, just fuck me!”, you cried out, back arching as yet another orgasm coursed through your body. it was so mind-numbing, the constant stimulation, that you almost forgot that he, too, was totally far-gone on that aphrodisiac chocolate. “need your cock in me. don’t know if blue balls are really a thing but i don’t want to experience it either way. please.”
marius only laughed, shaking his head. “whatever my beautiful baby wants.”
he was back on top of you and kissed you, making you taste your own cum on his lips, the way he had so messily eaten you out over and over had his chin glistening in your slick. you felt his tip rub against your clit, that poor bundle of nerves being stimulated without a break and having you twitch once more.
just before you started complaining again, he pressed his tip against your entrance and finally thrusted fully into you, your wetness making it easy for him to slide in deep until he hit the sweet spot that had you arching your back into him again.
“fuck, feels so good”, you cried out as he started fucking you like an animal; the bedpost slamming against the wall with how rough he was, the need and desperation coming from the aphrodisiac he consumed finally overpowering all bits of self-control he had left.
“your pussy’s so fucking tight, can’t take it anymore”, he groaned, “need to cum, fuck, can i cum inside?”
that’s something you loved about him so much – no matter how he sometimes acted like a horny teenager when he fucked your brain’s out, he’d always make sure to ask if it was okay for him to bury his seed deep inside. not that you had ever denied him of that simple pleasure, he still preferred to ask. that simple question had you fall in love with him again and again. “yes. fuck, yes, please, fill me up”, you whined.
with another loud groan his hips stilled, as he came deep inside of you, before he was able to catch his breath, he slipped out, turning you around on your hands and knees and bury himself back inside, fucking his cum back inside. marius spanked your ass before he kneaded the skin roughly, you were so sure your whole body was going to be sore.
“such a pretty ass for me, hm?”, he was so needy and desperate to fuck you to a crying and overstimulated mess, “come on, baby, make me cum, hm?”
his hands were all over your body before he grabbed your hair and pulled; he planted a soft kiss on your cheek as he looked at your beautiful, messy face, a total contradiction of how he was degrading you again; “fucking slut, just wanted me to fuck you till you pass out, huh? tempted my sweet tooth with that chocolate and just had to wait to get me so hard i couldn’t concentrate on my meeting anymore. ain’t that fucking right, baby?”
your eyes rolled back as you sobbed, he kept on slapping your ass as he fucked you. as you felt a particularly hard slap, you whined, looking back at him. “answer. me.” he punctuated each word with a hard thrust, before he resumed his rough and hard pace.
“yes, fuck, yes”, you cried out, moving your hips back against his, to meet his thrusts. “just wanted you to come home and fuck my brain’s out!”
“good girl”, he mumbled, praising you for not lying to him in attempt to get out of this. with his rough pace and your pussy gripping his cock like a vice – it was no surprise that he came buried deep inside again, filling your womb with his cum as he pulled out, watching the creamy seed slowly drip out before he turned you around onto your back again and softly kissed your sensitive clit, your folds clenching around nothing and causing his cum to drip out even more.
“so fucking good, baby”, he groaned, “gonna make you cum over and over again, baby, need you to be a total mess for me, huh? gonna fill that pussy full of my cum until you can’t take any inside anymore.”
“yes, god, fuck, please”, you moaned, the stimulation he put your body through had you coming once again, gushing all over his chin and chest, his cum leaking out at the same time and making a total mess of the bedsheets but neither of you could really care.
“fuck, that was hot”, marius groaned, slapping your cunt with his hand, not too hard, but enough for you to squirt again and more. “so, so fucking good, huh, feeling good, baby?”
you felt so dizzy from all that pleasure he put your poor body through, despite him not allowing you to pleasure him the ways you wished to, vision blurry as you finally were allowed to catch your breath.
it kind of pissed you off that he was the one who got more affected by the chocolate but you were the one being constantly pleasured. once he had made himself comfortable next to you to give you a break, you grabbed the handcuffs that were attached to the bed and cuffed his hands together, restricting him of any movement.
“y/n”, he said, warning you. “don’t you fucking dare. uncuff me right fucking now.”
you giggled and shrugged, shaking your head. “no.”
“i will make you regret this, you know that, right?”
“mhm, i do”, you giggle, slowly wrapping your hand around his cock and slowly jerking him off, having him throw his head into his neck as he moaned softly, growing weak in those soft and simple ministrations. “but you deserve to be pampered for once, too, don’t you, baby? just relax and take it.”
your hand started moving faster, his hips were twitching like a needy teenager who just can’t stop cumming as you felt his cum dribble down your hand and you quickly licked it off.
“fuck”, he groaned, slowly coming back to his senses as you slowly aligned your entrance with his cock, sinking down with a whine and immediately picking up the pace as you ride him.
“just like that, what a good girl you are for me, baby”, he praised you, despite being in handcuffs, he was still in full control over everything. you didn’t complain tho, but your eyes widened when you heard the cheap metal breaking and his hands on your body.
“didn’t buy the good ones, huh? well, i told you i’d make you regret this, didn’t i, slut?”
within the second, he had you underneath him once more, fucking his cock deep inside of you again. “fucking whore, needed me to fuck you stupid, huh?”
“yes, please, fuck, don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop”, you cried for the last time before he filled you up once more, staying inside for a brief moment before he slipped out and laid down next to you.
“that chocolate was good, huh?”, he laughed as he caught his breath, the effect of the aphrodisiac slowly fading. “wouldn’t complain to try it again sometime. how about… our wedding night, huh?”
“i like the sound of that”, you replied, yawning as you cuddled against him. “but we gotta clean this up, like, right now. you know that, right?”
“unfortunately”, he grumbled before he got up on his shaky legs, lifted you with ease and carried you towards the bathroom. “let’s get washed down first, though. we got all the time we need to clean up.”
you ended up fucking again in the shower.
visuals that inspired me: links are twt prn
marius fucking his cum back inside
marius being obsessed with eating u out
marius railing you so good, you keep on begging him not to stop
marius making you drip with his cum <3
#(*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.゚marius#tears of themis#tot#tears of themis smut#tot smut#marius von hagen#marius smut#marius von hagen smut
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ੈ✩‧₊˚ PADDOCK TO PADDOCK (LN) PART 8
series masterlist | previous part
lando norris x fem!horse rider!reader
landonorris just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc and 207,567 others
landonorris 100th race, p2, and a nice little call with my girl to show off her flexibility. thank you austin
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user3 ‘MY GIRL’🥹🥹🥹
user7 I KNEWWW EVERYTHING WOULD BE OKAY
user9 lando have you seen what she’s done?
landonorris have friends? yeah pretty happy for her tbh
charles_leclerc p2 because the fia hates lewis and me*
user2 see everyone the boys are fine
landonorris keep crying mate
yourusername i actually hate you so bad rn
yourusername @/charles_leclerc SURE you don’t wanna date me instead?
user1 HELP Y/N AJDJDJSJ
user6 she said i’ve had ENOUGH
charles_leclerc make me that rice dish again and i’ll consider it
landonorris @/charles_leclerc you don’t even know what tteokbokki is called you don’t deserve her😤
yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
liked by landonorris, lilymhe and 200,087 others
yourusername from monaco with love
👤 tagged alex_albon, lilymhe, charles_leclerc
only people yourusername follows can comment
alex_albon we need to have a serious conversation about how cute lily always looks in the photos you take and yet…. me…
lilymhe that’s just your face baby
charles_leclerc he’s not gonna know what hit him🤫
yourusername you could not have made this sound worse
charles_leclerc i’m quite enjoying being an accessory to internet drama
lilymhe do you know what’s rude? you spend one (1) second with a man and get a dating rumour… yet NOTHING when you hang w me!
yourusername FR we’ve been married for two years atp🙄
landonorris i know a Better place in monaco you can visit🧡
yourusername get your cute butt home and show me then
texts with charles ੈ✩‧₊˚
y/nupdates just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
liked by landonorris and 10,397 others
y/nupdates y/n at the airport today!! it seems she’s flying out to mexico for the upcoming grand prix 🩷
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user9 seriously? has everyone just forgotten she’s a cheater?
user3 and yet you follow fan accounts of her??? get a life
user7 ur actually miserable. lando hates u.
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y/nupdates any unnecessary hate comments will be deleted and you will be blocked🩷
user8 she’s so pretty even in the rain :( and she stopped to take photos with fans
user1 apparently someone gave her a necklace with an L on it and she put it straight on🥹
user8 @/user1 YOURE KIDDING THATS SO CUTE IM GONNA CRY
user1 THEY GAVE HER A MATCHING BRACELET FOR LANDO WITH HER INITIALS ON AS WELL!!!!
landonorris thank you admin for giving me a new lockscreen
user2 OH MY GOD ADMIN
y/nupdates 🫣🫣🫣🫣🫣 YOU ARE SO WELCOME
landonorris just tweeted ੈ✩‧₊˚
tweet 4 should finish: hate towards those close to me*
tweet 6 should finish: blocked by my team**
twitter reacts ੈ✩‧₊˚
mclaren just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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mclaren from p17-p5. not the start to the weekend he wanted but he only went and turned it around🙌🏻
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user2 SO PROUDDDS
user9 all because of her….
user3 HAVE FUN GETTING BLOCKED LMAO
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user6 GUYS I THINK MCLAREN ACTUALLY BLOCKED THEM THE COMMENT ISNT SHOWING UP FOR ME LMAOOO
yourusername that’s my boy
mclaren we heard it had something to do with his lucky charm😉
user3 this isn’t taking a week off ma’am
yourusername had to support the boy. it starts now <3
y/nupdates just tweeted ੈ✩‧₊˚
a/n:
OKAY this part was boring i am very sorry BUT there is onE OFFICIAL PART LEFT. it’ll be a long one i warn now but then there may be a mini epilogue of stuff i fully made up for next summer xxxx
thank you all for coming on this crazy ride with me — sorry it’s aLL OVER THE PLACE atm but it makes sense in my head ok
charles au is also otw next week and a one shot lando smau
taglist (found in pinned post): @idkiwantchocolatee @vellicoranorca @alessioayla @bborra @crimeshowjunkie @minkyungseokie @paolexsstuff @celestialpato @champagnelovers101 @loxbbg @hobiismyhopeu @tsukishitm-a @moonypixel @champagneproblems17 @ironmaiden1313 @lqvesoph @sunflower-golden-vol6 @six-call
#lando norris#lando norris x reader#f1#f1 x reader#lando norris au#lando norris imagine#mclaren#lando norris blurb#lando norris scenario#lando norris smau
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ASK COMPILATION: LORE, CHARACTERIZATION, AND THE ONE IN WHICH I RUIN A BUNCH OF PEOPLE'S FUN
As usual, this is far from all of the asks in my inbox but I'm trying to catch up 😩thank you everyone for your patience!
For the record, if your ask isn't being answered, that most likely means one of three things:
I am saving it as a possible art prompt.
I sincerely don't have a very interesting or good reply for it yet!
It's a question I have been asked multiple times/the answer is in my pinned post.
Glad you like them!!
As much as I don't limit what I draw to canonical events, vampirism is so antithetical to DU drow's character journey that I couldn't really envision it, to be honest, but who knows! Maybe I'll cook up some Ascended Astarion scenario someday that is kind of a role-reversal of the Bhaalist DU Drow AU I have going on in tandem to the story.
I'll be honest, this is one of the rare times where I'm really not sure which aspect of DU drow's weirdness this is in reference to. Do you know something I don't? 😅
His masochism is very... Classic, I guess? He's in it for the pain and for the emotional connection, and the process of being pierced wouldn't cut it whatsoever, it's too subtle. The body modifications he has are an incidental result of it, but they were never really the goal.
Also having stuff dangling off his face or body would just irritate him, he specifically only does rings because all other types of jewellery get in the way too much. Pre-tadpole Bhaalist drow obviously wore them by the ton, but only as a symbol of status and because he had a permanent new-money complex🤷 so yeah not a piercing-type of character at all, sorry!
He's smooth from the eyelashes-down and profoundly weirded out by body hair LOL
I don't personally think that whatever Astarion had for a home before would bear my resemblance to it after 200 years - having probably gone through several owners, remodeled, if not completely lost to the destruction of the end-game. I do HC that he used to visit it whenever he could as an enthralled spawn to read his mail, but he stopped after his father passed.
THANK YOU, I THINK? I can't say that isn't a passionate description at least!
I'm honestly surprised that this comes up as often as it does LOL but it's just an stylistic choice on my end!
The latter - for sure. He figured that them dying at each other's hands at the end was a given and took that assumption entirely for granted (and I'm sure daydreamed about it often while Gortash went on and on about political strategy during their dinner meetings.)
;))) way ahead of you and by "way ahead" I mean "eventually and whenever I can figure out when to do it alongside the other 30 ideas I am currently juggling" (but I really do want to make a little comic out of it!)
He used them! Not immediately, but he grew to trust the guardian after some initial suspicion and happily gobbled up those squirmy little things alongside Astarion. Because I made his character on a whim and without any planned backstory, I didn't really put any thought into his Guardian's appearance either, so she's just a human woman with a Joan of Arc look going on who's of no significance to him or his past.
But DU drow did trust her, again not immediately but eventually. It was honestly a big kick in the gut to him when the Emperor revealed himself and it definitely set their relationship up to fail from the get-go.
This is also why he didn't ascend to the next stage of Ilithid power, he just stomped the thing dead right on the spot LOL
LMAO I think Gortash is too proud to chase a tail he can't catch like that
He was probably very overwhelmed by the sudden realization that OH, THIS IS ALL HAPPENING BECAUSE OF ME which naturally didn't come across whatsoever to anyone present since he immediately bottled it up and tucked it away out of sight. However, as the story progressed and DU drow helped his friends get out of their respective pickles he was probably able to justify it to himself as it having been for the greater good - since it led to Astarion being freed from his master and Shadowheart to defying the Sharrans.
As for all of the rest of the ensued destruction and death that resulted from it? Well you can't make an omelette without cracking some eggs, or whatever is the wizard version of that saying. He has essentially turned the entire situation into a net-positive in his mind and sleeps great at night because of it.
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Nipuniiii!
Did you see the new drops for Dragon Age?! How are you feelinggggg
Hello, I did!! All the news caught me in the middle of a migraine episode that I'm just starting to recover from so I've been just watching and liking the posts I find but I'm excited!!
The game looks really good. The stylization and tonal shift of the first trailer was odd but it looks great in game honestly. It made me so nostalgic for Inquisition. Solas looks amazing and exactly how I was hoping he would!! The Tarot cards are back and all the companions look fantastic. Everyone looks so fun to draw which very important to me!! I love Emmrich already. I heard the character creator is very extensive and that you have to create your Inquisitor in it too and I like the implications of that. The prologue looks like it mirrors Inquisition's almost exactly. I'm already seeing parallels and symbolism everywhere I'm pulling out some red string and pins for my cork board as we speak.
The combat looks fluid enough, the environments have a lot of verticality and grandeur to them that I enjoy, the fashion is amazing, the offline and more linear playstyle sounds promising, the facial animations look terrible but the hair looks impressive. As for the story, it looks like it's going the way I hoped it would! The prologue had a lot of awkward overly expository dialogue but it's understandable given the circumstances I suppose. I know we were all expecting the Evanuris to be released and the Veil to fall in this game but it happening in the prologue took me by surprise lmao. Rook just immediately making everything worse five minutes into the game is so funny to me.
The scope of everything and the amount of locations and factions seems so ambitious. I have to wonder what really happened during production because at one point it really seemed like Bioware was going up in flames and half the team was fired and now people are talking about how amazing an experience this was and how it was the best team they have ever worked with and I'm so confused. I guess it's not long now until we find out.
The game looks bigger than ever, so I'm excited and a bit apprehensive. I'm hoping for the best and I look forward to it!! 🥰
#nips replies#I'm so bad at giving reviews because I'm very easy to please and very quick to praise lmao
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THAT DANNY SMUT WAS AMAZING 😩 if you’re able to, can you write one along the lines of him body worshipping the reader after he finds out that she is insecure about her smile, reader brought up that his smile is her favorite feature and that he makes up for both of them since hers is bad and he’s like 😁🤨 , LMAO he begins to think about it and realizes that she always covers her mouth and has never seen her real smile :( even though she puts up a fight, he fucks her dumb and makes her smile during it . “ don’t cover your face..fuck this is what you been hiding from me” while he squished your cheeks together UGH
thank you so much!! and thank you for requesting!🖤
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Despite how new your relationship with the Aussie driver was, he worked out pretty quickly that you didn’t like being the object of focus whenever he had his camera in his hands.
And for the life of him he couldn’t work out why.
There had been countless times over the last few months since you started dating Daniel where he would whip out his camera—whether it was on one of your cute dates or a casual day at home—and point it towards you, wanting nothing more than to catch your beauty in a candid moment.
And every single time you had managed to cover your face or turn away before he could click the button.
It took weeks for him to ask you, and when he heard your reasoning, he swore something in chest cracked a little.
“I just don’t like my smile,” you had admitted to him with a sheepish expression on your face. “But it’s fine. Your smile is pretty enough for the both of us, baby.”
But Daniel didn’t like that. He didn’t like the way you put yourself down like that, so casually like it was natural. And he didn’t like that fact in the months he had been dating you, he hadn’t seen your proper smile in the course of your relationship. And he certainly didn’t like the idea that you didn’t think you deserved to be the muse of his photography account when that was all he wanted to post about these days.
He didn’t like any of it and he swore he would make you change your mind. And the thing was that Daniel could be very persuasive, both with his words and with his cock.
“Danny,” you gasped as your body jolted with each thrust, tits bouncing and walls clenching around his cock like you could feel him any deeper than you already did.
“That’s it, baby, gimme another one,” he groaned as he squeezed your hips, his hooded eyes focused on the way his cock disappeared inside you with each thrust of his hips. “Wanna feel you come again for me, pretty girl.”
“C-Can’t,” you sobbed and shook your head, your hands fisting the sheets beneath you as he continued to fuck you like you were just a toy for him to use. God, even the idea made you clench around him. “Too much.”
“Nuh uh,” he groaned and shook his head as he looked up at you, your head falling back against the pillow as your lips parted with your pretty moans. “Gonna keep going until you give me what I want. Not gonna stop fucking you silly until you show me that smile of yours, pretty girl.”
Almost instinctively your hands went to your face. “Danny—”
“No,” he groaned as he gripped your wrists, both of your hands pinned above your head by one of his as he glared down at you. “No hiding from me.”
And he could’ve sworn his heart wanted to burst when you finally gave him the smile he was waiting for, the way he had to hold back his own release as he squished your cheeks with his free hand and grinned down at you.
“There’s my pretty girl,” he murmured before he leaned down to kiss your pretty smile, the sound of skin on skin echoing through the room. “C’mon, baby, smile for me while you come around my cock.”
.
#daniel ricciardo#formula one#f1#daniel ricciardo x reader#daniel ricciardo x you#daniel ricciardo x y/n#daniel ricciardo fic#daniel ricciardo one shot#daniel ricciardo smut#formula one x reader#formula one x you#formula one x y/n#formula one fic#formula one oneshot#formula one smut#f1 x reader#f1 x you#f1 x y/n#f1 fic#f1 one shot#f1 smut
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BITTERSWEET DELUSIONS — JAY ONESHOT
— you still exist in jay’s world. you’re still here, he believes, yet he doesn’t want to face the real truth. you’ll still stick with him, right?
pairing ⋆ 𖦹 ‧ best friend!jay x best friend!fem reader
(_ _ ) . . z Z % genre : angst, best friends to ???
warnings : mentions of diagnosis of disorder
feat. ᥫ᭡ : jake (enhypen) | word count : 1.4K (1408 words)
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 — no way, soph is going on a posting streak??? only the proofreaders remember this fic 🙏 LMAO idk why i didnt post this sooner — i kinda forgot about it and would always scroll right past it in my drafts (or i never see it cause i dont scroll that far down) this has been stuck in drafts since may 25 2023 😊 BUT this is finally released !
"Whoever loses has to buy lunch for the other person!" Your words echoed as you sprinted along the sidewalk. Glancing behind, you noticed Jay's bewildered expression while you dashed ahead. The black cat keychain swung side to side with each stride you took.
"That's not fair! You started running first!" Jay remarked, observing your increasing distance with a smirk. As usual, he swiftly caught up, transitioning from being far behind to directly trailing you. His sudden voice surprised you, causing a gasp to escape your lips.
"How did you—?" Before you could finish, Jay leaped onto you, causing both of you to tumble onto the ground. Instead of getting upset, laughter erupted from both of you. Clutching your sides and still pinned beneath Jay, you playfully nudged him aside.
Feigning offense, Jay's expression elicited more laughter from you. He smiled, captivated by your radiant smile and how you wiped away tears of joy. He wished he could witness this pretty sight every day.
"Shall we start over?" you proposed, smirking once more.
Beep Beep.
Jay's eyes shot open, startled by the sudden sight. He gasped for air, his heart racing. Anxiously, he fumbled for the towel placed beside his bed, using it to dab away the sweat clinging to his forehead. Tossing it back in place, he sat on the edge of the bed, feeling a sense of emptiness wash over him.
Oh how he could wish he could start over with you.
With groggy eyes, he tries to make out the numbers on his digital clock.
9:15 AM.
He sighed, rubbing his eyes. He had another dream about you, a bittersweet one. Or, should he call it a nightmare? Every time he dreams about you, a wave of guilt crushes over him, even if it’s not his fault. Staring at the blank expanse of his white wall, he reluctantly rose to begin his day.
Jay made his way to the bathroom, methodically rolling up his sleeves. As he turned on the tap, he cupped his hands to splash water on his face, revitalizing his senses. Wiping the water off his face, he noticed a new notification on his phone. Curiosity piqued, he glanced at the screen to find a text from Jake, compelling him to click and read the message.
“You wanna meet up?”
Grasping his phone, Jay contemplated his response. After thoughtful consideration, he finally typed out his reply, observing the words before hitting send: "Sure, where?" Suddenly, with a plan to hang out and no longer a day filled with nothing, a sigh of relief escaped his lips. Placing his phone on the counter, he resumed his morning routine, knowing that today held a purpose.
Running a comb through his hair, he meticulously arranged each strand, allowing them to gracefully cascade across his face.
It's a hairstyle you adored on him, often playfully brushing the strands away and commenting on how handsome he looked.
As he selects his attire, he opts for a simple combination of beige pants and a brown cardigan, a wistful sigh escaping his lips.
The colors hold a special significance, reminiscent of the times you praised how well they suited him. In an attempt to hold onto a piece of your presence, he chooses to wear lighter shades day after day.
Preparing to leave the house, he reaches for his cologne, spritzing a few times with a bittersweet smile.
Jay recalls how you held strong opinions about his fragrance choices, finding some too subtle and others too overpowering. However, this particular scent held a special place in your heart, and he remembers the joy it brought you. Since you mentioned it, he always made sure to keep that bottle in his possession, a subtle gesture made solely for you.
Exhaustion engulfed him, as the burden of the world settled upon his shoulders, relentlessly crushing his spirit. The weight of it all became insurmountable, rendering him a prisoner within the confines of his own room.
Every breath felt like a futile struggle, an agonizing reminder of the impossibility of escape from the torment inflicted by your absence.
Ignoring his thoughts, Jay steps outside his house, a rush of nostalgia flooding his senses as he inserts earbuds into his ears. The gentle caress of a fresh breeze momentarily grants him a fleeting sensation of freedom, but it quickly gives way to a surge of overwhelming emotions.
Each stride feels burdened, as if his body rebels against venturing into a world that still echoes with your memory, causing a subtle frown to etch upon his face. It serves as a constant reminder of the connection he once shared, amplifying the weight of your disappearance.
Despite knowing deep down that you wanted something better for him, Jay finds himself trapped in the inability to move on. He's trying with all his might, and today is no exception.
As he crosses the bustling streets, a soft, melancholic melody seeps through his earbuds, the gentle beats mirroring the fragments of you slipping away, gradually causing him to lose himself in the process. The sidewalks grow increasingly crowded, forcing Jay to navigate through the swarm of people, squeezing his way past them in a bid to move forward.
Placing his earbuds back into their case, he retrieves his phone and scrolls through his contacts until he finds Jake's name. With a mix of anticipation, he dials the number and brings the phone to his ear, the ringing echoing on the other end. His gaze scans the surroundings, desperately searching for any sign of his best friend's familiar presence.
Amidst the sea of faces, Jay's eyes lock onto a figure in the distance, stirring a glimmer of hope within him. Squinting, he desperately tries to discern the features, momentarily believing it to be Jake. But as he looks again, his heart sinks. It's not Jake; it's someone else entirely. Yet, their back, the way they stand, the clothes they wear—everything resembles you, frozen in time since the day you vanished. His eyes widened in disbelief, momentarily forgetting the call with Jake.
It was you.
There was no denying that that black keychain was yours, you guys had matching ones.
He could spot it anywhere, he knows.
Igniting an urgent determination, Jay pushes through the crowd, disregarding the pleas of his best friend on the other end of the line. He runs closer, his voice cracking as he calls out, desperately pleading for people to clear a path, oblivious to their bewildered gazes and startled reactions.
All that matters in that moment is the possibility of finding you, of reuniting, even if just for a fleeting second.
“Y/N!”
No response.
“Y/N!”
No response still. Just you moving farther and farther from him.
Farther.
and Farther.
He's on the verge of reaching you, his heart pounding in his chest, but among the overwhelming crowds flooding the streets, he loses sight of you. A rasping cough escapes his throat, his vision blurred by tears, and the last glimpse he ever catches is of your retreating back.
All he could see was your keychain, swinging from side to side. But this time, he couldn’t chase after you.
He can’t see your face again, can’t hear your laugh again, and can’t hear you request for another race.
You had won.
You had finally won the race.
So, why do you keep leaving him?
Why can't you simply return and reassure him that everything will be alright?
“Jay? Jay, listen to me.” a voice pierces through the haze, calling him back to reality.
He lifts his gaze from the black cat keychain in his hand, finding his psychologist looking at him with a gentle smile.
Confusion mingles with emptiness as he sits in the suffocating confines of a small room, engaging in a conversation he has no desire to partake in.
"Where's Y/N?" he finally manages to utter, his voice tinged with desperation, causing a slight frown to crease the psychologist's brow.
"She's not here anymore, Jay," the psychologist responds, and an irritated expression flickers across Jay's face, disbelief etched in his features.
"No, she is. She's still here!" he insists, his voice growing louder, his anxiety showing up with his bitten, peeled lips. "You just don't understand!" He confronts his helper with a mix of aggression and frustration, seeking validation.
“She’s going to come back. I just saw her earlier—even though she disappeared before I could talk to her, I know she’ll come back to see me.”
His psychologist sighs, holding onto their clipboard. Clicking onto their pen, they swiftly scribbled the words:
Delusional Disorder.
ENHA PERM TAGLIST (1) — @flwoie @ixomiyu @haruavrse @shinsou-rii @bearseulgs @ilovewonyo @yenqa @dimplewonie @bubblytaetae @wtfhyuck @ineedaherosavemeenow @ml8dy @starikizs @wonioml @chirokookie @xiaoderrrr @neozon3nha @en-chantedtomeetyou @millksea @enhaz1 @eundiarys @hyeosi @ja4hyvn @judeduartewannabe @j-wyoung @thia-aep @vampcharxter @softpia @officiallyjaehyuns @itsactuallylina @hsheart @sweetjaemss @ahnneyong @hanienie @jwnghyuns @kpoplover718 @jiawji @rikizm @haknom @yeokii @wvnkoi @whoschr @teddywonss @shinunoga-iie-wa @isoobie @skzenhalove @misokei @s00buwu @ox1-lovesick @miercerise @litttlestars @enhapocketz
#k-labels#kflixnet#k-films#enhypen#enhypen jay#enhypen headcanons#enhypen scenarios#enhypen imagines#enhypen oneshots#enhypen angst#enhypen x reader#enhypen ff#enhypen fanfics#jay headcanons#jay imagines#jay scenarios#jay oneshots#jay x reader#jay angst#jay ff#jay fanfic#kpop#kpop headcanons#kpop scenarios#kpop imagines#kpop oneshots#kpop ff#kpop angst#kpop fanfic#kpop x reader
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Lessons For A Genius - Lesson Two
Sub!Spencer Reid x Dom!Fem!Reader
Lesson Two: Magic Metacarpals
(aka the one where Spencer learns how to finger you)
Summary:
After his first 'lesson', Spencer is even more eager to learn from you.
And while both of you are ignoring your growing yearning for something more, you teach him the next logical thing: how to pleasure you in return.
Sub!Spencer Reid x (BAU)Dom!Fem!Reader. (Pining) Friends with Benefits. Smut. Set during early Season 2.
Word Count: 26,300
Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link | Series Masterlist
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Please read my pinned post before interacting. (Basically, I will block you if you look like a bot.)
Full list of warnings and author's notes below the cut.
Warnings: General themes for a CM episode - murder/killing/mentions of gun violence/mentions of women being murdered and sexually assaulted/mentions of strangling; once again, there is a mention of a case that isn't in the canon (one that I have made up) and this fic is not case-centric; the reader is held in a choke-hold by the killer and uses dark humour to get out of it; the reader uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina; mentions of the reader wearing a dress/very girly outfit; the reader is heavily implied to be plus-sized; mentions of the reader being older than Spencer, but there is no specific mention of how much the age difference is/number of years (tbh the way I am playing it, it could be months, a year, or years of difference because they make jokes about it) (because this takes place in early S2, Spencer would be 24/25, so if you're younger than that, just imagine? lmao); the team being very nosy about Spencer and the reader's sex life and the reader lying about it in order to spare Spencer because he's shy (not because she's embarrassed of him); heavily implications of Morcia as a background couple; mentions of drinking/drunkenness (does not take place in this fic, it's just mentioned in passing); mentions of Spencer being bullied as a child.
General sexual themes; ongoing dom/sub relationship - Spencer is submissive and the reader is dominant; a safeword is in place but it's not used; Spencer is generally inexperienced and the reader is 'teaching' him things about sex, including slang, kinks, sexual technique, and the emotional consequences of sex, generally helping him explore his sexual side; mentions of using sex toys (a fleshlight, passing mentions of dildos, including a tentacle dildo that is not used); mentions of Spencer masturbating independently from scenes/playtime with the reader (these scenes are not detailed); descriptions of subspace; descriptions of Spencer having a subdrop/bad subspace experience because he masturbates without the reader there (this is a very brief part of the fic and all other moments of subspace are described pleasantly); the word 'MILF' is used to describe the reader - as a joke, and because Spencer doesn't fully understand the context.
The actual smutty meat of the fic (aka girl dinner) consists of: panty kink - Spencer wears a pair of lacy panties under his clothes while in public because it turns the reader on; praise kink - Spencer loves being praised; public/semi-public 'sex' (they don't have full-blown sex, it's just groping through clothing, and they are in a secluded area of a public place when it happens); risk of getting caught; strength kink - the reader exerts her strength over Spencer and he likes it; heated making out; hair pulling (Spencer receiving); groping through clothes (reader and Spencer receiving); Spencer cums in his pants while being groped; clothes sharing - Spencer wears the reader's clothes; the reader calls Spencer honey, sweetie, baby, pretty boy, good boy; Spencer calls the reader Miss; this fic does feature Mommy kink - Spencer starts calling the reader Mommy partway through; mentions of the reader wearing traditionally feminine lingerie; hand kink - the reader likes Spencer's hands; finger sucking (the reader sucks on Spencer's fingers); vaginal fingering/clitoral stimulation - the reader teaches Spencer how to finger her; Spencer edges the reader unintentionally; guided masturbation - Spencer masturbates for the reader; Spencer cums on the reader (by accident?); the reader licks some of Spencer's cum; mentions of pregnancy (Spencer likes the idea of getting the reader pregnant, but she is on birth control so it won't happen in this fic lmao); some mentions of aftercare (not as in depth as the previous fic); and I believe that's it.
A/N: I do intend for each part of this to possibly be read as a oneshot, so you don't have to read Lesson One in order for this to make sense narratively. But if you want more sub!Spencer stuff, then you should go back and read Lesson One just for your enjoyment. This makes reference to things that have happened in the first part, but you won't be utterly confused if you jump into reading this without reading the other one first. Anyway, I do hope you enjoy it, especially those of you that have been waiting for this part to come out!
...
When you woke up the next morning, you had almost forgotten about what had happened.
You were drowsy, your body almost entirely sunken into the soft bed. If not for the ripe scent of coffee drifting through the air and undertone of something uniquely masculine stuck to the pillow - Spencer’s aftershave - then you likely would have thought that you were comfortable in your own apartment and simply turned over to go back to sleep.
But then it all came flooding back to you.
The Chinese take-out date, gifting Spencer the fleshlight - tying him to the chair in order to ‘help’ him use it. His moans, the sweet way he had looked up at you with those big eyes. The way he had called you ‘Miss’ with such utterly beautiful desperation, how perfect he had looked covered in his own cum.
You sighed with delight as you remembered it all, a gentle tingle coming over your body as you thought about it.
It was then that you realized what the pungent smell of coffee meant: Spencer must have been brewing a pot. You had no clue what time it was or when you had to be ready for work - but coffee sounded fucking amazing after the eventful night the two of you had.
You were surprised that Spencer wasn’t still in bed, cuddled up to you.
He had spent the whole night clinging to your back like a koala in the most endearing way. You had no clue how a man so large could make himself seem so small at times, but he definitely accomplished that by hooking his leg around your hip and whining whenever you tried to pull away from him even a slight bit.
(You hated that it was something that would have been intensely annoying from any other partner or one night stand, but when he did it, you found it adorable. You knew that you were letting him get away with too much already, but you couldn’t help yourself.)
What you didn’t realize: yes, Spencer would have loved to be cuddled up with you in bed all morning. But he had woken up before you - and he would deny the amount of time he had taken to stare at you while you were sleeping, ogling your beautiful, peaceful face. After he had gotten out of bed, he had taken the initiative to attempt to prepare breakfast.
He rarely cooked for himself. When he did cook, it was usually simple, plain, unimpressive dishes that were more meant to kill hunger than to actually taste nice. And he was even further screwed by the fact that his fridge wasn’t even well stocked because the team had been so busy on cases that he hadn’t even thought to go grocery shopping in a while.
Of course, he had coffee (and cream, and sugar - because he wasn’t a monster, he made himself a cup every morning). And he had some basics like eggs, so he was trying his best to make something nice for you.
When you walked into the kitchen, still dressed in nothing but your camisole and your panties, the chill of the morning air was biting and Spencer looked invitingly warm.
He was standing at the stove, concentrating on some sizzling pan, and you couldn’t resist the urge to walk up behind him and wrap your arms around his waist. He had gotten dressed since getting out of bed, so he was wearing a bright blue cotton tee shirt (that you didn’t yet see had the Superman logo on the front) and a pair of plaid pajama bottoms. It was an entirely adorable sight: Spencer in loungewear. You indulged in pressing your face lightly between his shoulders, loving the feeling of the soft cotton against your cheek.
You noticed that the radio was on in the background - a low hum compared to the pan sizzling on the stove. But from what you could tell, the news was playing. He was such an old man in some ways.
“Please tell me that’s coffee I’m smelling.” You moaned quietly, feeling snuggled by his soft embrace.
“A teaspoon of sugar and just a little bit of cream,” He said, taking his hand off the handle of the frying pan to reach over to the side, grabbing a coffee cup and hoisting it in your direction - which was slightly awkward with you behind him.
You met him halfway, taking the coffee thankfully. Then you moved to lean against the counter to actually drink your coffee. He was rueful that the hug didn’t last longer, but he didn’t say anything about it.
“You remembered,” You grinned at him, referring to the fact that he had made your coffee exactly how you liked it.
When you took the first sip, it tasted amazing, and began to wake up your senses from the drowsy lull that you had been feeling.
“It’s quite literally impossible for me to forget.” He replied, giving you a grin.
“Hmm,” You hummed thoughtfully, clutching the warm coffee cup with both hands. “I’d like to test that theory one of these days.”
If you could make Spencer so incoherent with an orgasm, even just begging for one, you were willing to bet that you could feed him information that he wouldn’t be able to repeat back to you when he was so fucked out. It would be one of the ultimate victories - proving the genius’s perfect eidetic memory wrong.
Spencer saw that look in your eyes - the same one you had given him last night before you had gifted him the fleshlight. (Which was still propped up in the drying rack, a sight that had startled him when he had first gotten into the kitchen that morning). He had a feeling that, based on that look alone, he knew what you meant. He shied away then, looking back down to the pan of eggs as your brain moved on to another subject.
“I still can’t believe that you listen to the radio in the morning,” You commented, nodding toward the device that was propped up on the half-wall that partitioned off the kitchen from the living room. “You’re such an old man.”
“I’m younger than you!” He chuckled.
“No, no.” You easily corrected him, your voice taking on a very typical joking tone. “Being an old man is a way of life. It’s not about your age. It’s why you and Gideon get along so well.”
Spencer snorted with laughter at this. He turned off the stove, deciding the eggs were done, and began to scrape them onto a plate, hoping that it wasn’t too measly or unimpressive.
“Well then… you had sex with an old man last night.” Spencer chuckled, trying to sound confident in this ‘joke’.
You couldn’t help but to laugh at his nervousness.
“You need to work on your comebacks, too.” You told him with a grin. “I should get you one of those ‘yo mama’ joke books that seventh graders pass around.”
“Oh, that explains why I suck at comebacks. I skipped seventh grade.” He shrugged casually.
You laughed even harder at this. For him, it was a simple statement of fact, but to you, it sounded like he was purely bragging, and that turned out to be a better joke than the one he actually intended as humor.
Spencer bit his lip to hold back a grin.
Mornings with you - it was so much better than he had expected. He had expected things to be intensely awkward after what had taken place last night. He had expected that the entire tone of your relationship might change. And that was something he was fearful of. But you were still making jokes, still absolutely not afraid to insult him in that joking way that you did.
Spencer felt a yearning deep inside of him at the realization - like the string of a harp being plucked, setting off vibrations of bitter harmony through his entire being. He wanted his life to be like this every single morning. He wanted to make coffee for you every day - he wanted to be yours.
You picked up a fork and took a small bite of the eggs he had offered up, and Spencer felt his heart drop when your face immediately coiled into disgust.
“What’s wrong?” He asked quietly, fearing he had terribly disappointed you.
“Honey… how much salt did you put in this?” You asked, your words slightly muffled by the food cradled on your tongue.
You walked over to the sink and spit the eggs out, and Spencer rushed to pick up a fork for himself as he answered.
“Not much, I think.” He said, taking his own bite of the food. Then he immediately understood. “Oh my god. That’s so bad.” He said, feeling a gag curling in his throat at just how putridly salty it was.
He leaned over and spat his bite in the sink next to yours, and before the fear of disappointing you could fully set in, you burst out laughing brightly.
“Oh god.” You chuckled. “You don’t usually cook, do you?”
“Not really.” He said, giving you a timid smile. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” You assured him, rubbing a hand gently across his back. “We can just get some breakfast on the way to work.”
He would learn to cook for you too. Most definitely.
The sweetness and peace was disrupted by a sharp digital chirping - a cellphone ringing. You didn’t think to question if it was your phone or Spencer’s before you put your coffee cup on the counter and rushed toward the sound, finding the small silver object buzzing in the middle of the coffee table (still off to the side of the room where you had pushed it the night before). You grabbed it up and flipped it open, and answered without hesitation.
“Hello?” You said politely.
Spencer stood in the doorway of the kitchen then, watching on with curiosity, wondering if the two of you were being called in for a case.
“Y/N?” JJ’s voice came from the other end of the line - but she sounded oddly confused.
“Yeah.” You confirmed. “What’s up?”
“What are you doing answering Spencer’s phone?” She asked, an eager curiosity coming through her voice.
Your work phones were practically identical, so it was a crapshoot.
You scrambled to make up an excuse, even though you knew her mind had likely already strayed to something in the realm of ‘adult sleepover’.
“He and I were hanging out last night and I fell asleep on the couch watching movies.” You said. “You know Reid, he went on that whole rant about how driving tired is like driving drunk, he insisted that I stay over-”
JJ let out a hardy laugh, cutting you off.
“Yeah, keep working on that.” She said. “I’m sure the others will definitely believe it.” You rolled your eyes at this, and JJ continued. “Did the two of you use a condom, or should we be expecting some genius babies coming our way nine months from now?”
You wanted to conjure up a crude (but truthful) joke about how Spencer had cum into a silicone pussy and you didn’t think babies could come from that. But for once, you managed to hold your tongue. You wanted to respect his privacy rather than flaunting your sexual exploits in front of other people and embarrassing him. You did have some sense of tact.
“Do we have a case or are you just calling around cause you’re lonely?” You fired back, trying to get her off this topic.
“Yes, we do.” She said. “And you just saved me a phone call. So you and your little boyfriend get in here as soon as possible, okay?”
You sighed. “Yeah, of course.”
You snapped the phone shut before she could make any more cute comments, and then you walked over and handed it to Spencer.
“There’s a case?” He asked.
“Yeah.” You told him. “Sweetie, would you mind running down to my car and grabbing my go-bag? I need a fresh change of clothes.”
“Yeah, yeah, of course. I can do that.”
His overall obedience toward you kicked in again, and he found himself nodded eagerly. He knew that if he were a dog, his tail would have been wagging relentlessly as he shoved on a pair of shoes and a sweater and you tossed him your keys from your purse in order to go and do the task.
You chugged down your coffee and headed toward the bathroom for a quick shower to freshen up. As Reid went down to the parking garage, he had to wonder about the things he had just heard you say on that call.
He knew that you had made up the excuse about you ‘falling asleep on the couch’ to JJ because you didn’t want to simply expose the fact that the two of you had played around the night before. It was a private thing that should be kept between the two of you. Even though you were relatively shameless about toting other private matters in public. You were never ashamed about announcing to the world when you were on your period or if certain foods had upset your stomach - in great detail.
So - if you weren’t so eager to announce being with Reid, did it mean that you were ashamed of him? Did it mean that you didn’t want to tell everyone that you had a sexual partner like him?
He tried not to stew in that thought as he brought your bag back upstairs. When he closed the door to the apartment and you heard him come in, you called him and told him to come toward the bathroom, and he heard the shower shutting off.
It was only then that it occurred to him that you were using his shower - you were naked in the shower. You were naked in his apartment.
He felt warmth in his pelvis at the thought, and he tried dampening it down (tried thinking of horror, sadness, dead bodies) - because he really didn’t have time to masturbate or ‘play’ more with you before work. He didn’t have time to take care of an erection right now. Would this be a recurring problem? Getting erections around you so easily now because you had awakened something in him? Because now he knew that you would actually touch him?
When Spencer came to the bathroom door, it was partially cracked open, and there was warm, hazy air pouring out - clearly steam from how hot you had the shower.
“Did you find the bag?” You asked, clearly having heard Spencer’s footsteps in the hallway.
“Y-yeah.” He answered.
“Okay, well, you can come in and bring it to me.” You chuckled, bright and confident as ever.
Spencer pushed the door open fully.
He felt like he was stepping into an early morning heaven when he stepped into that humid air and saw you standing in the middle of the bathmat, wrapping a towel around your naked, dripping body.
The way you held it kept your breasts and vagina fully covered, shielding all of the ‘important’ parts from Spencer’s view. But when you pulled it back to adjust the tightness of the towel around your chest, you clearly didn’t care about the skin that was revealed. The thickness of your hip and the plushness of the side of your stomach was bared to his eyes; his gaze devoured the large strip of skin all the way up the side of your body, just barely kissing the side of your breast where the towel covered you. It looked so scandalous even though it showed so little of you before you covered yourself back up and tucked the towel into itself, securing the fabric around your body.
“Thank you, Spencer.” You said, reaching out and grabbing the bag from him.
Spencer stood there for a moment longer, watching in utter awe as his eyes traced a droplet of water down your neck and into your cleavage. He wondered what it might be like to lean over and lick it up, wondering what your skin might taste like-
“Spence, shouldn’t you go get ready now?” You posed, looking up from rooting around your bag that you now had propped up on the closed toilet lid.
“Right.” Spencer said. “Right. Yeah.”
Spencer rushed off to his bedroom, doing just that.
He did have to masturbate before he could focus at all on getting dressed. He felt slightly shameful for it, but he picked up your discarded blouse from his bedroom floor, left there by you from the night before, holding it to his nose while he pumped his cock with his hand. And with it, he came faster than he ever had by his own touch. And then he rushed to clean up and get dressed and managed to meet you just as you were emerging from the bathroom, looking as beautiful as ever in another button up blouse and simple black pants.
You gave him a grin and didn’t at all seem to suspect that he had touched himself, and he felt so utterly victorious - like he had a secret, like he had gotten away with something.
…
You had to laugh as you watched Spencer struggle to clean the dried cum off his glasses in the car with a couple of wet wipes. It was something you had forgotten to do the night before, and you found it entirely amusing as he muttered and grunted to himself, trying to get the lenses fully clean while you drove.
By the time you got to the office, Spencer’s glasses were glimmering clean and you recklessly pulled into the first parking spot you saw in the garage, hoping that you weren’t terribly late. (Unfortunately you hadn’t had time for breakfast, and hunger was gnawing at you, but you would take care of that later.)
Spencer began voicing complaints about your parking job and the likelihood of your doors getting dented by someone else getting out of their car, but you simply dragged him forward with a hand on his wrist and told him that it would be your problem as you shoved him into the elevator.
Nobody else was lingering in the bullpen, which worried you, and surely enough - everybody else was already sitting at the roundtable as you and Spencer walked down the hall. Many prying eyes stared at the two of you from the doorway, clearly expectant of the two of you. When you got in, you noticed that the only absent face was Gideon. At least you and Spencer weren’t the only ones holding up the presentation of the case.
“You’re late.” Hotch grumbled as Spencer shut the door behind the two of you. “Again.”
“So sue me.” You shrugged, causing Hotch to roll his eyes, and causing a smirk from Morgan and Elle - who generally loved your snark.
“Don’t blame her, Hotch, she probably had a hard time finding her keys after Boy Genius rocked her world.” Elle said, making an obvious joke about the fact that you and Spencer had come in together.
That, and you wouldn’t put it above JJ not to tell everyone that you had spent the night at Spencer’s place (especially if she delivered that news under suspicion that the two of you had sex).
Reid - who had gone to the counter off to the side to get himself yet another cup of coffee - dropped a packet of sugar on the floor out of nervousness when he heard Elle’s comment. You found it entirely adorable when he scrambled to pick it up, clearly trying his hardest not to seem suspicious.
“So come on, how was it?” Morgan said, looking right at you as he hopped onto the joke. “Did he spread you open like a good library book?”
Hotch sighed, pressing his fingers into the bridge of his nose, knowing he could do nothing to stop the conversation. He looked to his phone, desperately trying to ignore this as it went on around him.
“Very funny.” You griped sarcastically. “If I look tired, it’s because this loser had me up all night rambling on about Star Wars - fun facts, behind the scenes trivia.” You said, motioning toward Spencer for emphasis when you said ‘this loser’. “I absolutely did not need to know the difference between a protocol droid and an astromech droid, but now I do.”
On any other occasion, you casually throwing around the word ‘loser’ in reference to Spencer would have hurt his feelings.
But during this moment, Spencer found himself suppressing a grin. Everyone in the room had basically invited you to openly mock him for his lack of sexual ability, to spill his secrets as office gossip. But instead, you had chosen to keep those secrets close to your chest, clearly as a way to protect him from future mockery. And on top of that, you had made a clever reference to a previous conversation that the two of you did have about Star Wars. He was proud that you remembered the term ‘astromech droid’ off the top of your head at all.
He felt proud, sharing a filthy secret with you. And he knew that he was definitely not a loser after what had happened last night.
“Star Wars?” JJ questioned, looking at you with an expression that said she definitely knew you were lying, but she obviously didn’t have any proof.
You had told her that you fell asleep on his couch by accident, and now you were telling the others that he had kept you up all night?
“Yeah, that sounds more like it.” Morgan chuckled, receiving a knowing nod from Elle.
Spencer passed by you, placing a coffee cup in front of your chair as you took your jacket off and sat down. He highly resisted the urge to give you a grin - knowing that it would give away your sweet little secret to the rest of the room. He simply walked around the table and took his own seat, and before any further discussion about the possible antics of your private lives could occur, Gideon walked in with a file in hand and JJ began presenting the case.
…
It was a case like any other. (Unfortunately.) Women strangled, sexually assaulted, left in areas of the woods that weren’t too difficult to find.
As you looked at the horrific crime scene photos, you couldn’t help but to think that perhaps part of the reason you loved to dominate subservient men was to take back your personal power. Because deep down, you knew that you were terrified of ending up like that, and you loved the small piece of the world that you could take back when you got your hand around a man’s neck and made him beg for mercy (consensually, of course).
But you couldn’t dwell on that for too long, because you had a job to do.
There was a fresh crime scene when the team arrived, and Hotch sent you and Morgan to investigate it while he and Gideon went to speak to the victim’s family. The others left to set up at the local police station, and you couldn’t help but to notice Spencer’s eyes lingering on you as you parted ways.
There were some drag marks in the dirt and a camera perched on a public bathroom that insisted the victim (and her attacker) could have been seen, so Morgan stepped away to call Garcia to see if she could pull anything from the camera’s feed. You did some more looking around, but couldn’t find anything of note.
When you walked back over to where Morgan was perched beside the SUV, grinning with his phone beside his ear, you couldn’t hold back a comment at his final words before he hung up.
“-oh, of course. Well you are beautiful and brilliant as always, my love. Thank you.”
“You didn’t tell me Reid was on the phone.” You commented snidely, giving a wide smirk as you walked around into Morgan’s view.
You thought you were being clever, making the joke that he would call Reid beautiful, or playfully call him ‘my love’. But of course, he turned this right back around on you.
“No, that was just Garcia. She said the camera’s a dud and she couldn’t get anything off it.” Before you could comment on this fact, he continued.
“But I took a message from Reid earlier. He said he left his panties at your place and he wants them back,” He smirked widely himself as he said this.
Likely the exact opposite of what he had intended, this caused a distinct image in your mind. One of Spencer wearing a pair of pink lacy panties - his long, hard cock straining to fit inside the skimpy material, and leaky wildly inside of it, making everything so wet.
You forced yourself to refocus, and purposefully put on a sour look, pretending that you were annoyed by his crude comment.
“Ha-ha.” You griped sarcastically. “You know Reid and I aren’t a thing. So you can stop with the jokes before you embarrass him.”
Truthfully, you did want the jokes to stop before it hurt Reid. You knew that he likely wanted to keep his sex life private. You didn’t want his shyness to come back tenfold before you could truly open him up and explore his filthy side.
Morgan snorted, clearly in disbelief.
“Oh, so you’re gonna act like that whole bit this morning wasn’t you and boy genius stumblin’ in late because of a late night booty call?” Morgan posed. “A real one. Not him fallin’ asleep on his phone.”
You shifted your attitude then. If he wasn’t going to drop it, then you were going to arm yourself.
“Okay, if you’re so invested in my sex life, you wanna talk about the size XXL purple leopard thong that I found in your back seat three weeks ago?” You posed sharply, a stone cold look on your face even though you were holding back the urge to laugh.
At the time, Morgan had offered to give you a ride home because your car battery had died. And when you tossed your bag into his back seat, you randomly spotted the streak of bright color - very out of place among the few gray sweatshirts he had in the back. And when you picked it up, wondering what it was, you held it in your hands and in a moment, based on the size, knew who it belonged to.
But he had been denying where it had come from (and the lustful tryst behind it) ever since. Clearly he wanted to keep his inter-office sex life private too.
“I-” Morgan began stuttering out an explanation, then swallowed it up. “We should get going.” He said, motioning toward the SUV.
“We should.” You easily agreed.
…
The whole time the team spent working the case, you found it difficult to interact with Spencer.
You really wanted to say that having sex with him wouldn’t change your working relationship, but it wasn’t like you had fucked just anybody. It was Spencer. If you had railed Elle or Derek or anybody else on the team, you probably could have gone to work the next day and pushed it to the back of your mind with grace.
But knowing that Spencer was inexperienced, knowing that you had likely been the first person to ever hear him moan like that, the first to ever see him covered in his own cum - it was definitely something that stuck in your head (to a painfully distracting extent).
Every time you so much as looked at him, saw that thoughtful expression with those glasses perched on his face, you immediately pictured him blissfully fucked out with large spots of his own cum covering the lenses.
So you tried your best to avoid him for the majority of the work. You volunteered to leave the station whenever possible, and left him with his maps, making a geographical profile, doing what he did best. You tried to keep yourself distracted and focused on a case.
This - somehow - had you and Gideon following a lead, following up with someone who had spoken to the first victim a few minutes before she was murdered. While the two of you searched the man’s property looking for him, he managed to sneak up behind you and put you in a chokehold, attempting to strangle you.
Because yeah - he was the killer. Great.
And apparently, once again, your sick sense of humor paid off. Because when your hand reached for your gun upon instinct and you realized that in your Spencer Reid sex-haze distractions, you had somehow forgotten it in the car, you cursed yourself, and then you began to physically struggle. And then you realized that this man was too strong, and there was no good way for you to escape the hold with physical methods.
With your vision becoming hazy, your instinct was to start moaning in a very exaggerated, pornographic way and tell him how much you liked the feeling of being strangled - which led him to loosen his grip out of shock. And that gave you more than enough room to elbow him in the face, knocking him loopy so you could call to Gideon for help.
The two of you had him in cuffs in minutes and when everyone else got there and asked you how you managed to escape, you told them that you were simply too fierce of a fighter for the man to hold you down. They didn’t need to know what actually happened or where your mind went when faced with danger.
Spencer looked at you with incredibly sad eyes when he saw the irritated strangle marks around your neck, but you pointed to the marks and told him you were fine with a chuckle. That it looked worse than it was. You were surprised and kind of hurt when he didn’t say anything to you in return.
Spencer didn’t sit next to you during the plane ride home (which you took slight offense to). But he did come up to you in the parking garage when you were getting ready to leave. You had been inspecting a large bump in one of your doors (cursing the fact that Spencer always had to be right), and you became distracted when you heard his footsteps echoing through the large space behind you.
You thought that maybe he needed a ride since you had been the one to drive him there after your heated night together. But he stood a few feet away with his hands in his pockets, so you took your hand off the key that was poised in your car door and made it clear that you were prepared to pay attention to him - clearly he had something to say.
“Are you mad at me?” He asked timidly.
“What? No.” You let out breathily, almost laughing. “Why would you think-?” You began to ask, and then cut yourself off, realizing the answer to your own question halfway through speaking it. “Because I’ve been avoiding you.” You spoke aloud.
Spencer nodded, seeming very solemn and downtrodden by this fact.
“You wouldn’t even look at me over the past few days.” He said. “I mean, I understand if I did something wrong.” He declared, his voice taking on the same broken wetness that his eyes had, as though he was on the verge of crying. “But I - I thought that what happened the other night, what we did, I thought it was special. I-”
“Spencer. Come here.” You summoned him closer, not wanting to talk loudly across the parking garage at him. You didn’t want your voices to echo when speaking about your sex life - just in case anybody did happen to come by.
You found it achingly adorable that he called what had happened ‘special’. Like he was a young woman talking about ‘making love’. It was tooth-rotting sweet. Especially considering that he wasn’t referring to some night where the two of you had laid in bed together with candles and Barry Mantilow playing. But rather, a time where you had tied him to a kitchen chair and fucked him senseless with a fake pussy.
Spencer easily followed your order, finding nothing but natural order in listening to you. He came to stand just a few inches from your body where you were leaning up against the door of your car, and then you began to speak quietly.
“What we did was special.” You assured him with a smile. The sadness on his features broke up slightly at this. “In fact, it was so special that I couldn’t get it out of my head. Every time I looked at you, I just imagined you moaning for me, covered in your own cum. I kept hearing your pretty voice in my ears saying ‘please’ in that gorgeous way you do.”
Of course, you did angle your words more into dirty talk, and you leaned into him slightly when you said these things, whispering in a low, seductive voice. You loved how his Adam’s apple bobbed heavily as he swallowed thickly, and a slight flush moved across his cheeks at your words.
When he didn’t say anything, clearly stunned into silence by your words, you continued.
“I didn’t want to be turned on, or distracted when we have an important job to do.” You had to leave out the fact that you had been so distracted that you had almost made a fatal mistake. But nobody needed to know about that. “So… I just tried to focus on something other than you for a while. I do apologize if it seems like I was avoiding you out of anger, but that is definitely not the case.” You told him, easily capping off your explanation.
“I understand.” Spencer nodded. “That’s… kind of how I feel every day. But I guess I’m just used to it by now. So I’m better at not being distracted.”
You felt intensely flattered, and slightly turned on as he unintentionally fluffed your ego.
“Because you’re a good boy.” You told him, knowing that praise was one of his weak spots.
You swore you saw his knees shake when the words hit him, and he cleared his throat loudly before he spoke again.
“Is - is it always going to be like this?” He asked.
He would have mourned your friendship if that were the case. He didn’t want to trade off your jokes and your everyday interactions for the sex, as amazing as the sex was. Selfishly, he wanted both.
“No.” You easily assured him. “I just need a bit of time to get my head on straight. I need some time to get used to it. Like you said, I need to get better at not being distracted.”
Spencer nodded at this.
He was very tempted to ask if you wanted to come over to his place that night. If you wanted to ‘sleep-over’ again. Not only had he enjoyed the spectacular orgasm, learning from you, but he had genuinely enjoyed the kind of domesticity that came from waking up with you there. He loved having someone in his kitchen in the morning. He knew he would miss that sorely if he woke up tomorrow morning and you weren’t there. (Perhaps you had spoiled him too much already.)
However, before he could work up the courage to ask, you leaned up on your toes and kissed him on the cheek, muttering ‘goodnight, Spence’. And in return, he muttered something about paperwork before he walked back toward the elevator.
…
That night, Spencer went home and grabbed the fleshlight off the dishrack as soon as he spotted it. He knew that you had bought it for him with the intention of him using it independently, but as he grabbed the bottle of lube off the living room coffee table, he just felt… lonely without you there.
But he supposed that he had to learn how to do it on his own, because you wouldn’t be there all the time to help him. It was only a fantasy - the two of you getting a place together, so he could serve you in every possible way, doing so gleefully, and in return, you would play with him whenever he wanted.
He stripped naked and slicked up his cock and the toy just like you had shown him. He couldn’t help but to miss the feeling of your hand on his cock as he did it. When he got the tight softness of the fake pussy around him, he screwed his eyes closed tight - and all he could think about was you.
He missed you like a tree missing sunlight, and he felt his head spinning - felt like he had no greater sense of control without your voice telling him what to do. It made him anxious and on edge the whole time he had that fake pussy wrapped around his cock, rather than the beautifully, buttery warmth he had felt before.
By the time he came, he was practically sobbing. A deep ache for you in his chest as he missed your touch over him - missed the feeling of your fingers running through his hair, missed your voice calling him ‘good boy’ as that tingling ran through his gut.
After he rinsed out the toy with hot water and put it back in the dish rack to dry (wondering if he was cleaning it right) and jumped in the shower, he wondered if he would ever be content to masturbate alone again. He wondered if you had ruined him, if he would ever truly feel satiated without your touch.
…
The next few days passed without much of note happening.
You and Spencer stayed away from each other in the office and everyone began to whisper, theorizing that you were in some kind of fight. But of course, they didn’t notice the glances the two of you exchanged over the partition of your close desks - a deeply knowing stare that only the other person could decipher.
Also, unknowingly, Derek had given you a fantastic idea.
One day during your lunch break, you visited a lingerie store that you loved, and picked up a pair of lacy pink panties that would definitely be too small for you - but that you hoped would fit a certain genius’ slim hips just right.
…
At the end of the week, you were intensely thankful to have a day off.
You were tempted to turn your phone off completely, not wanting to be cursed with being called in on your day off. You could say that you lived with the hope that nobody out there was needing the BAU’s help, but truly, you were just annoyed and wanted some time to relax.
You woke up naturally around mid morning, and you were feeling hungry so you hesitantly rolled out of bed. You washed your face and did a light, lazy morning routine. On your way to the kitchen in your modest, cozy, but very well decorated apartment, you heard a knock on the door.
You felt all of your muscles tense up unconsciously. You really hoped that it wasn’t someone from the team, needing something. (You also hoped that it wasn’t one of your exes, showing up unannounced to beg for you back because the sex had been too good and had ruined them for anyone else - which had happened before. Multiple times unfortunately.)
You hesitantly walked over to the door (so tempted to pretend that you weren’t home and simply be left unbothered). When you looked through the peephole, you were delightfully surprised to see that it was Spencer. He was standing there, dressed like he usually did for work, holding a tray with two takeout coffee cups in one hand and a large brown paper bag in the other.
He had brought breakfast.
A sweetheart with a big dick and a pretty face who begged so pretty and brought food? Fuck, you might just have to marry him.
You eagerly opened the door and grinned widely at him.
“Spence!” You greeted him with excitement. “Fancy seeing you here.”
“Um, hi.” He gave you a smile himself, and nodded at you rather than waving because his hands were full. “Can I come in? I brought breakfast.” He motioned toward the items in his hands, and you nodded, moving aside to let him in. “I wanted to make up for those… abysmal eggs that I made you the other morning.”
“They weren’t abysmal.” You told him with a chuckle as you shut the door. “And I do admire you for trying.”
Spencer naturally navigated his way to your small kitchen, to the small round table that you had in there to set the items down. This was only his third time in your apartment.
Two of the other times he had been there, it had been to hang out and play board games with you, JJ, Elle, and Penelope. Something that had started out as a joke - Derek telling him that he might have fun ‘tagging along on girls’ night’. So he had. And he did have fun.
And one of the times it had been because he had gotten quite drunk and you had brought him here to take care of him. Because he had been so drunk that he couldn’t tell you where his house keys were. Waking up on your couch that morning to the smell of pancakes had been delightfully confusing.
Either way, he found your apartment wonderfully homey. Decorated in jewel tones with girly touches. And there was always a nice smell lingering in the air from some kind of scented candle or nice perfume you were wearing.
“Yeah, well, food is definitely not one of my areas of expertise.” Spencer admitted, carrying on the conversation as he took your coffee out of the tray and handed it to you.
You noticed the distinct motion of his eyes going up and down your body, lingering around your thighs and your breasts, distracting him from picking up his own coffee for a few moments.
It was only then that you became hyper-aware of the fact that you were still wearing your pajamas.
It was a matching set made of a thin cotton fabric with a floral pattern on it - the top was a tank top with thin little spaghetti straps (and of course, you had just gotten out of bed, so you weren’t wearing a bra). The shorts were intensely short, revealing most of your wide thighs. It didn’t leave much to the imagination, so you realized why it caused Spencer’s eyes to wander. You loved his keen gaze, though. And you pretended not to notice as the conversation continued.
“The genius finally admits that there’s something he doesn’t know!” You chuckled.
“There are still plenty of things I don’t know.” Spencer said quietly - the glint in his eye told you that he was definitely referring to the pivotal conversation that the two of you had the other night. The conversation where he had lovingly begged you to teach him about sex. “Plenty of things I still need to learn.”
There was a pause where the air was filled with intense sexual tension, but Spencer broke it by grabbing the paper bag with the food in it and opening it up.
“I got you a breakfast sandwich.” He said. “Bacon, egg, and cheese on a bagel.”
“Sounds perfect.” You nodded. “Plates are in the cupboard above the sink. I’m gonna go down to my mailbox and see if my newspaper has been delivered.” You told him, walking over to the door to shove on your slippers.
“Getting your news from the paper? What an old lady you are,” Spencer said, clearly recycling your own words from the other morning back at you.
“That just means you like old ladies.” You chuckled, recycling his comment from the other day. “You must be into MILFs,”
“‘MILFs?’” Spencer questioned, that adorably confused look coming across his features again.
You became filled to the brim with glee at the realization that you would get to explain this to him.
“It means ‘Mother I’d Like To Fuck’ or ‘Mommy I’d Like To Fuck’.” You told him. “Usually it’s used to describe a sex fantasy where someone wants to fuck - well, a mother. Someone who’s had children, because they’re attracted to the concept of motherhood. Or it can be describing a porn category, usually anything with a curvy older woman and a younger man… some people say that a MILF doesn’t necessarily have to be a woman who’s had kids, just a woman who’s older than you and hot.”
Spencer’s lips gaped with lustful shock, and a flush came over him. He wanted to confirm that you were definitely a MILF - because you were a woman who was technically older than him, curvy, and very hot. And he definitely wanted to fuck you. All the time. But that would mean using the word ‘Mommy’ to describe you, and as much as that brought a tingle through him - that was not a can of worms that he was ready to open. Yet.
You left him standing there, gaping with shock and you couldn’t help but to laugh at this as you walked out the door to go to the mailbox.
When you came back, you and Spencer sat on the couch and ate with the TV playing quietly in the background. A random network was playing Pretty Woman and you left it on because Spencer remarked that he had never seen it before, and you found it adorable how closely he paid attention to the film as it progressed.
When you finished your food, you opened your newspaper and began reading. At some point, you had stretched out, and your feet had wandered into Spencer’s lap. Before you could wonder if he found it annoying, he began to lightly massage them.
It was a delicate kind of peace, and you couldn’t help but to enjoy the silent, easy company as he watched the film and you read an article about a new baby penguin being given to two male penguin parents at the local zoo.
You didn’t know that Spencer’s skin was crawling, eagerness building up inside of him as he sat in silence. Seeing you just sitting there, your face gently concentrated as you read. You putting your feet so carelessly in his lap, using him like he was just a lovely piece of furniture, just a footrest for you. All if it seemed to be checkmarks on some unknown list of things that only made him more lustful.
And for the past ten minutes, he had been slowly losing focus on the plot of the film and found himself staring more and more at your thighs or sneaking glances at you over top of the newspaper.
He had the urge to simply nudge your legs apart and crawl between them. To start touching you until he found out what was pleasurable for you. Until you called him ‘good boy’ in that way that made him melt again. But he wasn’t nearly confident enough to just do that. So he was just sitting there quietly. Slowly going insane as he thought about all the things that he wanted you to be doing to him now that the two of you were alone with free time.
Of course, you noticed him becoming more antsy. You felt him moving more in his seat, you felt him becoming tense under your feet. So you decided to ask and see what he would say. You wondered if he would come right out and admit that he was feeling lustful, or if you would have to pull it out of him.
“What’s up, Spence?” You asked, glancing over the newspaper at him.
Then, Spencer said something incredibly stupid.
“They’re hosting some of Van Gogh’s original sketches at the Smithsonian Art Museum this month.” Spencer said, motioning toward the back page of the newspaper that you had extended in one hand. It was all advertisements, but one of them did say something about a Van Gogh exhibit including some of his original art.
He had been feeling dangerously nervous and wanted to deflect from himself.
“Hmm.” You said after you read it. “Maybe we should go check it out.”
Spencer’s face fell to disappointment at this suggestion, and you held back laughter.
“What? Did you have some other grand plans for the day?” You posed, knowing this would get the right reaction out of him.
“I…” Spencer let out a breath, clearly hesitating. “I was kind of hoping we could… play.”
You couldn’t hold back your grin. You loved that he was using the language you had taught him, feeling confident in putting the vocabulary to good use.
“How about this?” You posed, knowing that you were fully in charge, and it was up to you to make the plan. “We go and check out the art exhibit, and if you behave yourself on this little outing, then you can have whatever you want as a reward when we come back home.”
Spencer’s eyes lit up at this. He seemed highly motivated at the idea of having a ‘reward’.
“What would ‘behaving myself’ entail?” He asked, ever eager to have a set of rules to follow.
“Don’t touch me without permission.” You told him. “Keep your hands to yourself. Don’t nag me or keep asking when we’ll come home and play. And… well, there is one more thing. Something special that you could do for me.”
Spencer’s face knit with confusion at this.
“What’s that?” He asked.
“Hold on.” You told him.
Then you got up off the couch and abandoned your newspaper on the coffee table, leaving Spencer nervously fidgeting as he waited for your return. He was surprised when you came back with a bright pink shopping bag - something fairly small and girly. The shop logo on the side wasn't one that he recognized, so he had no idea what could be inside the bag.
He waited patiently as you stood on the opposite side of the table and put the bag in the middle of it, and peeled back the pink tissue paper to take out the object inside the bag. He was slightly confused when you pulled out a small, delicate pair of lacy pink panties.
When you unfolded them and held them up to display them to him, he easily saw that they would be too small for you, and the confusion racked him even harder. If you hadn’t bought the underwear for yourself then-?
“I wanted you to wear these for me.” You told him, your voice steady. “Under your clothes all day. So just you and I know.”
Instantly, a wave of anxiety swept over Spencer.
You hated the look that came across his face and you tossed the underwear down as he spoke.
“Would - why?” He stuttered out. “Do you think it’s funny or something?”
Spencer hated it, but he was immediately brought back to a time in his childhood. A time when, as a child prodigy in a public high school, he had been forced to take a gym class with a bunch of older teenagers, and forced to change in the same locker room as everyone else, because the coach refused to ‘treat him special’ just because he was ‘a smartass’.
And at the time, he had thought nothing of his Ninja Turtles underpants until the other boys started pointing and laughing at them. They had thought his underwear was so funny, in fact, that they took his clothes, forcing him to walk out into the hallway in nothing but his underwear, fighting to get his clothes back.
Back then, he didn’t understand why someone’s underwear would be funny. But it had changed him and left him guarded and feeling small - even now.
“No, no, no, baby. Of course not.” You rushed to assure him otherwise, sitting down on the coffee table in front of him and putting a tender hand on his knee.
“I would never want to laugh at you. Or humiliate you.” You told him very sincerely.
You distinctly held back the urge to say ‘unless you want me to’. You didn’t think he was ready to know that some people role played humiliation on purpose. That would be for another day.
“Baby, I only wanted to do this because it’s a turn-on for me.” You continued. “But you don’t have to do it if you’re uncomfortable. I don’t want to make you upset or uncomfortable.”
“It - it turns you on?” Spencer’s face knit with intense confusion, contemplating your words carefully.
This was a brand new aspect that - now that it was presented to him, definitely had him processing the concept with fresh eyes.
He knew that films or comedic shows presented the idea of men wearing women’s clothing as a form of public humiliation. Even though during Shakespearan times it was artistic, a beautiful form of theater. In modern times, men were publicly mocked and shamed for parading around in clothing that wasn’t ‘meant’ for them.
Of course, growing up in Las Vegas, he was well aware of the existence of Drag Queens - people who fell somewhere between that Shakespearan theater and the Saturday Night Live style of comedy that was usually straight men wearing dresses. But drag performers dressed up in women’s clothing for money. They did it as a type of paid performance.
No part of Spencer’s mental catalog had any idea that people dressed in clothing that didn’t align with their gender as, well… a fetish.
Spencer imagined himself wearing the underwear - especially knowing that you would be looking at him with a lustful gaze while he wore it, and he felt a distinct tingle in his gut. He felt his mood shifting from anxiety to something warmer, but he was still on edge.
“Tell me what’s on your mind, baby.” You pleaded gently, rubbing your hand on Spencer’s knee. “I know that look. So come on, tell me what’s going on inside that big brain of yours.”
Spencer hadn’t realized that he had been sitting there for a prolonged moment, perhaps more than a few, a look of deep thought cast over his features as he considered all of this.
“I… I don’t hate the idea.” Spencer said tentatively.
He was still timid about his own desires, and he was unsure what it meant that he himself was becoming turned on by the idea of wearing women’s underwear. It was supposed to be a show for you, right? Was he supposed to enjoy it?
“You’re not just saying that because you’re trying to please me?” You replied.
You wanted to be sure that he was comfortable. You wanted to ensure that he knew he could say ‘no’ if he needed to.
Spencer shook his head.
“I - I think I could like it.” He said quietly, clearly shy about his own words. “I think I do. Just… can you tell me more about… why you like it?”
You gave a small grin, always happy to explain these kinds of things to him.
“Well, I think you would look good in them.” You said, being entirely honest. “To me, there’s something profoundly beautiful about the sight of a cock trapped in pretty lace. It’s unconventional and just so… pretty.” You explained, choosing your words carefully.
Spencer felt a unique twist in his gut when you used that word - ‘pretty’.
People had used that word to describe him before, but it always felt like it was teasing, or ironic. But when you said it, it sounded so genuine. It made Spencer want more. It made him want to hear it more because he wanted to feel pretty, especially in your eyes. It was something he had never wanted in his life before. It exponentially boosted his desire to wear those panties for you - if that would make him pretty to you, then he would certainly do it.
But he held back on voicing that for now, and simply let you continue.
“Plus, I do enjoy the idea of the two of us having a secret.” You told him. “The fact that you would be wearing those pretty panties under your clothes and we would be the only two people who know.”
Spencer definitely understood that. He liked sharing secrets with you.
It was how he felt all week - entirely filthy and victorious as he wielded his secret from everyone else. Having the knowledge that he had sex with you and the two of you were going about your days without anybody else knowing it. Sure, part of him wanted to brag to Morgan about it for some kind of social standing. But the bigger part of him much preferred the satisfaction of that secret. Having that secret side of you all to himself.
“But like I said, you don’t have to do anything that you’re uncomfortable with. You don’t have to do it just to please me.” You reiterated the point, entirely open with him.
“You really think I’m pretty?” Spencer asked quietly.
You found it adorable that he had become fixated on this word, clearly slightly distracted from the overall point.
“Yes.” You assured him. “You’re very pretty. You’re one of the most attractive people I’ve ever met, Spence.” You reached up and brushed your knuckles gently across his cheek, and he shivered lightly at the touch in combination with the brutally honest praise.
“Thank you.” He said, giving you a small smile. Then, he had a thought. “Can - can I try them on, and then… see how I feel? Before wearing them for the rest of the day?” He asked, nodding toward where you had set down the pink lacy panties.
It was such a brilliant idea - you weren’t sure how you hadn’t thought of it yourself first.
“Of course, baby. That’s a really good idea.” You nodded. “Do you want to go in the other room and put them on, or do you want me to help you?”
He found a warmth curling in his stomach at the idea of you helping him get dressed, and he absolutely couldn’t deny that offer.
“Can you help me?” He asked, looking at you with the sweetest doe eyes. You resisted the urge to simply climb on top of him, kiss the life out of him and make him cum again.
No. Today was going to be about making him wait. Making him needy - making him truly want.
“Okay, baby, stand up for me.”
Of course, he thrived on you giving him orders, so he did just as you told him without any hesitation.
He stood up in front of you and you guided him around the coffee table to have more room. He was wearing such a perfectly Spencer outfit - a navy blue knitted sweater vest with a button up shirt underneath, a pair of gray slacks with a brown belt, and his usual mismatched socks (one red with navy stripes and the other dark gray). He also had a gray blazer that he had ditched on the back of one of your kitchen chairs shortly after coming in.
It was interesting to know that even on his days off, Spencer still wore such ‘business’ clothing. But you supposed that it was all his wardrobe was made up of, because he likely didn’t consider it appropriate to leave the house in his loungewear.
In a lot of ways, much like everything else that he did - it was intensely adorable.
You put your hands on his belt and undid it, and unzipped his pants - when you slid them down over his thighs, you weren’t surprised to see that he was wearing the most Spencer kind of underwear: a pair of plain white briefs. He was half-hard, making a prominent shape in the cotton that caused you to hold back a wicked grin.
“I’m sorry, my underwear isn’t… sexy.” He said, his arms hovering awkwardly around his front as he clearly considered covering himself but hesitated in doing so.
“Don’t apologize, baby.” You said, getting down on your knees to take his pants the rest of the way down and untangle them from his ankles. Naturally, he put a hand on your shoulder and stepped out of them, a flush coming over him at how intimate the entire thing felt.
“That’s why I got these special just for you,” You told him, reaching over and grabbing the panties, holding them up for emphasis.
“You did?” He questioned.
You had taken the tags off shortly before presenting the underwear to him, and even though you had brought them out in a shopping bag, it wasn’t something he had considered. You had bought something like this with him in mind. This was the second time you had gone shopping and gotten him a special present and he couldn’t help but to feel so lovingly spoiled by you.
“I did.” You confirmed with a smile, looking up at him in a way that made him melt.
“Thank you, Miss.” He couldn’t help the title from spilling from his lips, and it immediately made your pussy throb with need.
Once again, you forced yourself to focus.
“I’m gonna take these off now, okay?” You said, reaching up and thumbing along the waistband of his underwear.
Spencer nodded.
“Use your words, please.” You reminded him sharply.
“Yes, Miss.” He said, nodding more frantically.
You took down his briefs and his cock swayed in the air - clearly on the way to being fully hard, smooth and beautiful. You found it adorable that his pubes were still entirely untamed. You loved that even after you had started showing sexual interest in him, he hadn’t felt the need to rush to groom himself. You preferred him like this, especially because the imagery of that bush entirely slick with his own cum would always be stuck in your mind, and you definitely wanted to recreate it again.
You were tempted to get a hand on his cock, to tease him. To get him to full hardness, making him leaking and whining and then force him to go out for a full day of activities. But he was still new to this and you weren’t that mean.
That, and you had a feeling that because it was Spencer, if he started begging you to cum, if he said ‘please’ in that pretty voice again, then you would most likely just give in to him and your whole plan would be ruined. Rather than going to the museum, you would simply spend the day with him tied to the bed and incoherent.
But you wanted to see how far you could truly push him if he was needy. If he was absolutely desperate. And a few hours of your attention directed away from him when he wanted it most (focusing on paintings rather than on pleasing him) along with rough lace scrubbing up against his cock should do very nicely.
You pulled the underwear down fully and just the same as you had with his pants, unhooked them from his ankles, leaving him fully dressed from the waist up, still wearing his socks. Then you picked up the panties again - you had chosen something that was aesthetically pleasing, and hopefully not too uncomfortable for him. It wasn’t anywhere near a thong in the back, but you knew that it would be snug on his cock - just what you were hoping for.
The moment that Spencer felt the lace brush against his skin, he was greeted by a brand new experience. He always chose his clothing based on the comfort of the fabrics - and he had certainly never worn anything with this kind of underlying roughness to it.
When you pulled it fully up over his hips and gently tucked his cock inside the waistband, he did find it thrilling. The fabric created a slightly irritated pain across his highly sensitive cock, and a tightness around his balls, but he found that in a way, he liked it. It was truly all brand new, and though he knew that the feeling was going to become an annoyance after a while, he was curious about the sexual aspects of it. He found that he wanted more.
Especially when he saw the look on your face.
Spencer looked utterly stunning like this. Infinitely better than you could have imagined. Seeing his half-hard cock trapped behind the pink lace as it was stretched over his slim hips almost had you drooling. You knew that the lust was clearly written across your face, and you couldn’t help but to reach up and gently stroke his cock through the fabric, getting a low moan from him.
“How does it feel, baby?” You asked, looking up at him from where you were still positioned on your knees.
With your warm hand on him through the fabric, with you looking at him like he was the most perfect thing in the world, there was only one possible answer.
“Good.” He easily replied. “Really good.”
You smiled at him. “Do you wanna keep them on for the day?”
“Yes, Miss.” He nodded eagerly. Truthfully, he was excited to see where the day would take the two of you.
You helped him put the rest of his clothes back on, then you sat him on the couch to wait for you so that you could go get dressed for the day. You found it entirely adorable when he wiggled around on the spot, clearly adjusting to the new feeling of wearing such tight, lacy panties.
Spencer felt even more intense lustful warmth wash over him when you returned in a flowy red dress with small white polka dots on it. It was a dress with a deep V neck and a tie around the waist, one that looked like it wrapped around your whole body. It accentuated your curves so well, making you look like a gorgeous Hollywood starlet.
You had on a pair of red heels and had a red purse with a long strap on your shoulder. You were truly a vision of beauty. He felt like he shouldn’t be allowed to go out in public with you, especially because people would see the two of you and assume that you were on a date.
(Was it a date? How the hell was he allowed to date someone as perfect as you?)
“And remember, baby. If you’re a good boy all day, then you can have a reward.” You told him, putting your foot up on the coffee table to adjust the strap of your shoe, not-so-subtly flashing him your underwear with how open and flowy the skirt of your dress was.
Spencer was brain dead by the sight for a moment, but then thought to ask:
“What kind of reward?”
“Well… whatever you want. You can pick.” You told him. “As long as you follow the rules.”
Oh, it was going to be a good day.
…
It seemed that your plan worked far better than you originally expected.
When the two of you first got into the museum, Spencer’s hands kept hovering around his waist, clearly resisting the urge to grab at his pants, to try and adjust the panties through his clothing. You combated this by grabbing one of his hands, and kept him busy by prompting him with questions about the paintings as you toured the non-Van Gogh sections of the museum for a while.
At times, Spencer became a bit too fixated on whatever he was saying, and you felt an eagerness to distract him from the art. As much as you enjoyed listening to him ramble on and always learned something from the sound of his sweet, soothing voice, you did have another goal in mind.
When he became a bit too immersed in his thoughts and recollection about whatever art history books he had read, you would provide him with some kind of physical touch that sent his mind absolutely rocketing off the rails, and sent his mouth sputtering as he tried to remember what he had been saying.
You would reach over and wrap your arms around his waist, possibly brushing your hand over his cock on the way. You might wrap an arm around his lower back and lean into his body, purposefully pressing your weight up against his side, letting him feel every single curve that you had to offer. You began to feel more bold as you wanted to get more of a reaction out of him, and you even reached up and planted stray kisses on the side of his neck, behind his ear.
As time progressed, his insights about the paintings became much more shallow, and he began to fidget more. You knew that he was growing intensely needy, and you loved it.
By the time the two of you got to the exhibit with Van Gogh’s original sketches that had drawn you to the museum in the first place, Spencer was oddly pensive and quiet. You let the silence linger as you carefully planned your next move.
Spencer interrupted the peaceful silence with his gentle, prodding voice.
“Be clearly aware of the stars and infinity on high. Then life seems almost enchanted after all.”
“What does that mean?” You asked, turning to look at him.
“It was something Vincent Van Gogh said.” He noted, turning to look at you, mirroring your body language. “It means - well, I think it means that… that life can be full of trauma and darkness, but if you take the time to observe the beauties of your life, and realize how there are simplistic wonders all around us, then… the darkness doesn’t seem so big. The everyday parts of life can seem enchanting.”
You reached up and gently brushed Spencer’s hair back from his forehead, eagerly listening to his sweet voice as he spoke.
You knew - consciously or unconsciously - he was also speaking about the way that you made each other’s lives enchanting. Your job was full of darkness and horror, and it would be easy to fall to it. But you lifted each other up, and became that everyday enchantment that the other person needed.
Spencer’s eyes pointedly flickered down to your lips and then back up to your eyes before he continued.
“Van Gogh was famous for painting pictures of everyday sights. Flower vases, scenes from his village. The Starry Night was painted because he imagined that the stars above his village were a sure sign that God himself came down every single night to kiss the sky there. He didn’t see the mundane as simply… mundane. He saw it as beautiful and worth celebrating.” Spencer explained.
“You’re beautiful.” You easily fired back, and Spencer crumbled under the direct compliment.
In a moment, his cheeks dusted with pink and his posture shrunk. Where he was confident and tall when speaking about art history, he became small as he was trapped under your gaze, absolutely unsure how to take the compliment - especially as it was directed toward his looks. Especially as it made him feel oddly pretty.
When his eyes jumped back up from looking at the floor, his gaze was locked on your mouth once again. He tugged on the bottom of his blazer, and you could tell that he was becoming fidgety and anxious.
His anticipation was easily growing into need.
And so was yours.
Without telling him what was on your mind, you scanned the room. You thought you had seen something of note when you first walked into this section of the museum - and surely enough, in one of the corners, there was a thick black curtain covering a doorway. A curtain that had an ‘Employees Only’ sign pinned to it. Perhaps it led to some kind of storage closet, perhaps it led to another winding hallway.
Whatever was behind there, you were about to find out.
“Come here.” You told him, giving a gentle tug on his elbow that you were holding.
Naturally, entranced by your every movement and having nothing but the ability to follow you - Spencer walked on easy feet, guided by you as you marched across the room with purpose. He thought perhaps you had seen a painting that particularly caught your interest across the room, or that you were finally ready to leave and it was time to go home and get his reward.
But what happened next, he certainly did not expect.
You pulled him toward a dark curtain that was labeled with a sign - Employees Only.
Last time he checked, you hadn’t gotten a job at a museum.
He found himself slightly filled with anxiety at this fact, but you seemed entirely unfazed.
You simply pulled back the curtain and used Spencer’s anxious confusion to your advantage. You shoved him in first before he could question you, and then you climbed in yourself and carefully adjusted the fabric so it would seem completely undisturbed.
The area behind the curtain seemed to be nothing more than a long hallway with a few doors. It was clearly a lesser traveled area of the museum - a few of the lightbulbs overhead blown out and not replaced, the floor dingy and dusty. Perhaps those doors led to storage rooms or the place’s security facilities - but either way, the two of you weren’t supposed to be here.
His insides filled with panic at the idea of getting caught.
“Y/N-!” He called out your name harshly, but you cut him off by putting a hand in the middle of his chest and shoving him back against the wall.
Hitting the wall easily knocked the wind out of him. It was a surprising amount of force - you were much stronger than you looked. Of course, he had seen you take down suspects before. He had witnessed you tackle grown men to the grown with ease and marveled in awe at your strength, but you had never used that kind of force on him. He had never imagined what it would be like.
He found that it turned him on more than he could have imagined. The presence of your hand fisting the front of his sweater vest spread a dizzying heat through his body. He stared at you with parted lips and a slacked jaw as the lust and shock overtook him.
“Are you gonna be good for me?” You asked.
You stood away from him for a moment, removing your hands from him completely and leaving a few inches of space between your two bodies in the dim, dingy space.
You were giving him a clear opportunity to use his safeword if he truly wasn’t comfortable with fooling around in such a public space.
“We - we’re gonna get caught!” He whispered urgently to you, his voice hushed but still strained at the very thought of it.
You found it entirely adorable - how scandalized he was by this. You had done far worse and you hoped that you could get him to sink to your level over time.
“You let me worry about that, pretty boy.” You told him firmly. “Now - are you gonna be good for me?”
You asked one more time, your voice demanding and hopefully fully relaying the meaning of your words.
Spencer had a choice.
And with you standing there, staring him down with heat in your eyes, looking like such a vision of lustful beauty, when he had been waiting so long for your touch, for your attention… it wasn’t much of a choice at all.
He only wanted you.
“Yes.” He squeaked out quietly, swallowing thickly around his own doubt. “Yes, I’ll be a good boy.”
You grinned a wide Cheshire grin at his words, and in a moment, you were on him.
You possessively gripped at both sides of his blazer, easily bending him to your will. You surged forward and met him as you forced his body to bend downward, capturing his mouth in a demanding, heated kiss.
It was a tiny murmur in the back of your mind, reminding you that this was actually your first kiss with Spencer. You had already seen him naked and made him cum, and you were just now getting to taste his sweet lips. It was a funny thought.
In that moment, any worry about potentially getting caught easily flew from Spencer’s mind - any logic quickly dripped out of his ears.
He moaned beautifully into your mouth, and as you echoed a sound back, you had to wonder why you hadn’t kissed him sooner. He seemed to be a natural at it - or, this was the one thing that he had some real practice at. Which you were entirely thankful for. His lips were smooth against your own, heated and desperate, surging forward with intense gyrating motions - almost as if he was trying to consume you with his intense hunger.
Though in a moment, he easily fell under your control.
You reached a hand up to the back of his hair and took a tight grip there, holding him like he was a beautiful object that you owned, just a toy for you to play with. He let out a sharp whine from the back of his throat, and his jaw fell slack for a moment, allowing you to bite down on his bottom lip - hard, assuring him who was in charge.
The shock of pain from the bite had his hips bucking forward, and surely enough, you felt him fully hard, brushing against your hip through both of your clothing. He whined even sharper as he felt the roughness of the lace pressing against his cock, brushing against him with more force as he humped himself against you. It stung roughly and sent beautiful shocks of pleasure pulsing through him.
“What do you want, pretty boy?” You breathed against his lips.
Still desperate, needy for contact, he left a sloppy kiss on your chin before he spoke to answer the question.
“C-Can I touch you?” He whimpered out quietly. “Please.”
Your lips formed a wicked grin against him at this.
“Anything over my clothes.” You told him. When his hands still hung limply at his sides, you threw in some encouragement. “Come on, baby, touch me.”
You did have to wonder if he would have been bold enough to reach under the hemline of your dress - even if you hadn’t given him explicit permission. You wondered what he would have done if his fingers had gotten as far as your underwear. But with your instructions, he had full access to your ass and breasts and you were curious to see what he would do within the rules.
You dove in for another kiss, boldly possessing his mouth with a commanding strength once again. He whimpered against your lips and - feeling as needy as he was, he eagerly followed your instructions and began feeling you up over your clothing. His hands started out humbly on your hips as your experienced, certain lips battled against his needy, rapid ones. But soon enough, he became anxious and impatient with simply grabbing on your love handles through the cotton of your dress, and he needed more.
You yanked on his hair again and took advantage of his gasp-parted lips to shove your tongue into his mouth, your body pressed firmly against his with him leaning against the wall for support. His hands began to eagerly wander, consuming your flesh for the first time and truly getting a taste of what it was like to not just be commanded by you, but what it was like to be with you.
He began grabbing the roundness of your ass in needy handfuls, his touch truly exploratory - he didn’t touch you with any skill, didn’t touch you like he was trying to get you heated and turned on. He touched you because he wanted to touch your body, badly. He was simply displaying his own hungry need for you without even considering shame in doing so.
And that was something that caused you to moan into his mouth as you raked your tongue along his teeth. He even reached a hand up and shoved it between your two bodies, groping at your breast with absolutely no grace. He was digging his fingers into the flesh like he was trying to rip it off your body and possess it entirely. It was something so filled with need that it made you so damn hot, made your cunt ache between your thighs.
You knew that you wouldn’t be able to end the day without cumming - whether it be with his help or simply having him watch and beg to touch you.
You had so many plans for him. And you couldn’t wait to see them all play out before your eyes.
You felt his erection against your leg, throbbing with just as much need, and you felt that devilish urge rise up inside of you again.
You pulled away from his lips with a wet smack, the realization hitting you once again that - yes, technically, you were in a public setting. The thought sent a thrill through you, but you had to be at least somewhat careful, lest you get caught.
“You like touching me, baby?” You cooed against his cheek.
“Yes, Miss.” He breathed out.
When you opened your eyes partially, you had to contain a gasp.
His glasses were fogged up.
Just like something out of your fantasies, his glasses were clouded with steam from the heated exchange. But he didn’t seem to notice or care. From what you could see through the layer of dew, his eyes were screwed shut and he was far too focused on his lust. He was concentrating more on groping your breast with one hand and your ass with the other, giving small, aborted humps against your hip, clearly trying not to cum in his pants.
Oh god. You wanted to see him cum in his pants. Badly.
And it was rare that you didn’t get what you wanted.
“You want me to touch you?” You asked, nosing along his long, beautiful neck.
“Should - should we go home first?” He asked quietly.
Clearly, he was still afraid of getting caught.
“Hey, shh.” You breathed against his skin, causing him to shudder. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it. You let me do all the thinking, baby. Just answer the question,”
“Yes.” He moaned quietly. “I want-”
You didn’t let him finish, and cut him off with another heated kiss.
You distracted him with this, and he whimpered sharply against your lips the moment your hand was on him.
You groped his cock harshly through his pants, your hand skilled in a direct contrast to the way his touch was clumsy and only fueled by need. You knew exactly what you were doing, knew exactly how to drive him where he needed to go.
Your demanding touch closed the pink lace of the panties roughly around the sensitive skin of his cock. The feeling of it - being reminded of his little filthy secret, the thing that the two of you shared. That, on top of the fact that he had already been so close from the thrill of getting to touch you and grope you freely for the first time - that set him off so damn easily.
He didn’t have a moment to warn you that he was cumming or ask for permission. The only warning you got was a pathetic choked off moan that came from the back of his throat before his hips jolted into your hand, and the stuttering movement of his legs was a sure sign to you that he had cum inside his pants.
You pulled away from his lips to admire your work.
His face was nicely flushed, continuing to add to the fog clouding up the lenses of his glasses. His hair was entirely messy and tousled, giving an absolutely sex crazed look to him even though he still had all his clothes on - clothes that were wrinkled and messy, adding even more to the look. His pants with a slight damp spot forming on the crotch as his load soaked through the thin fabric of the panties and began to soak into his pants as well. You couldn’t help but to give his sensitive cock an extra little squeeze through his pants, causing him to whimper harshly and shake at the touch.
You loved seeing him so fucked out and pathetic.
“I - I’m sorry!” He immediately began to apologize, reaching to pull down his vest in an effort to cover his crotch, as though wanting to hide the evidence of his orgasm that was rapidly soaking into his clothes. “I’m sorry, Miss!”
Of course, he thought he had made some grievous misstep but breaking the rule - by not asking permission before he had cum. When it was something you had been gunning for, wanting him to cum for you.
“Hey, shh, shh, it’s okay baby.” You murmured against his skin. “It’s okay.”
Before he could think too hard about it or get too swept up in his emotions (and frankly, before the two of you could get caught in such a state) - you grabbed one of his hands and then dragged him out of the museum completely. You barely slowed from a brisk walk until the two of you got back to the car. Even with Spencer holding his vest down over his crotch out of embarrassment, if anyone took a second look at his wrecked hair, dewey glasses and kiss-swollen lips, they absolutely would have known what had happened to him, and you loved the thought of it.
…
You spent the entire ride home assuring him that he had done nothing wrong.
It took a lot of soothing from your voice and a few well placed gropes to his crotch over the car’s console with your other hand on the wheel. This got him hard again, made him distracted from beating himself up for not being able to follow the rules explicitly. Instead, now he was focused on the way his throbbing cock felt swimming around in his own cum-soaked underwear.
He didn’t need to feel guilty for not following the rules. You didn’t intend to punish him for breaking that rule, because he had just been too pretty while breaking it. Besides - you couldn’t imagine spanking someone so soft and new.
You couldn’t imagine saying no to him.
In all honesty, you kind of hated yourself for going soft. This would be the first time since you had become a dom that you hadn’t punished a sub for breaking a rule. But this wasn’t just any sub, this was Spencer. You couldn’t explain why, but he was just allowed to get away with things. He deserved to be spoiled.
By the time you did get home, Spencer was breathless and filled to the brim with need once again. If his tears had been from self punishment and guilt at first, they were now from sheer need. He was desperately wringing his hands in his lap to keep from pawing at you because he felt that he had not been given permission to do so during the car ride.
When you pulled into your parking spot, he looked over at you through his now clearer glasses lenses with big, wanting eyes.
“You’re sure that you’re not mad, Miss?” He asked quietly, giving an adorably dramatic sniffle.
“I am absolutely not mad, baby.” You told him. “It’s difficult to ever be mad at you when you’re so damn pretty.” You ‘booped’ his nose at this, and the smile he gave was so genuine that it made your insides glow with pride. “Now, what do you say we get you out of those soiled clothes and into something more comfortable?”
“I - I didn’t bring a bag.” He said, looking over to his car across the lot longingly.
“You didn’t bring a bag to the sleepover?” You cooed. “How silly, baby.” Spencer looked entirely downtrodden, as though all of his plans for the day were ruined. “I’m sure that I can find something for you to wear.”
This conjured up a delightful image in your mind of him wearing more lingerie. But no, you needed to find him something comfortable instead. He had been good, and he deserved to be rewarded for it. You were sure that despite the size difference, he would be able to fit into some of your pajama pants with the waist tie knotted up a few times. Hopefully the waistband wouldn’t absolutely fall off him.
He seemed more upbeat at this, and the two of you got out of the car and went up to your apartment, Spencer easily following your lead, as always. He carried your purse loyally, something you found to be a covert turn-on. You liked seeing the subtle ways he could serve you.
When you got up to your apartment, you tossed your keys into the bowl where you normally kept them, and Spencer made a point of hanging the long strap of your bag on the coat rack - something you found so entirely cute.
You then took Spencer to the kitchen to get him a glass of water to help him calm down. The entire time he drank it, you gently stroked his hair and told him what a good boy he was. This seemed to relax him entirely, which satisfied you on a deep level.
Then, you grabbed his hand and steered him in the direction of the bathroom to help him clean up. With his shoes already ditched near the front door, you peeled off his blazer and threw it over the back of the couch along the way, not giving him a moment to speak about hanging it up ‘properly’ or whatever else was gonna come out of his mouth before you bustled him along to the next room.
In your quaint apartment, the bathroom was at the end of the hallway, and he caught a small glimpse into your bedroom before you continued shoving him down the hall. He saw twinkling lights and pink silken sheets and felt his stomach tingle - it was nothing like he had imagined it, but he kind of loved that.
Your bathroom was just as entracing.
The tiles were pearlescent blue - obviously vintage, along with a clawfoot tub to match, and you had decorated everything with quite a beautiful sense of style to match. A floral blue shower curtain, a fuzzy blue bath mat, and a small golden cart in the corner holding all of your different products. Spencer had the urge to pick up the bottles and start smelling them, wondering if he could get more of your amazing scent right from the source, or if it was the unique, distinct combination of those products along with your natural skin oils that made you so intoxicating.
You shut the door gently behind the two of you when you got him into the small room. He found himself pressed right up against the counter of the small bathroom vanity, his back to the ornate mirror and your back to the door. This left only a few inches of space between your two bodies as you looked up at him with a gentle, sweet expression.
“Let’s get you cleaned up.” You told him.
Spencer smiled at you.
“And then, after you’re all nice and clean, I think you can have your reward.” You told him, your voice low and dripping with decadent promise. “You were a very good boy today.”
“I was?” He said eagerly.
Then, after a moment, he realized that he shouldn’t be questioning it. Because it was against the rules to question your judgment, and because you had just told him that he was deserving of a reward.
“I mean - yeah, I was.” He quickly corrected himself, trying to sound confident in this statement.
You let out a soft chuckle at this. Then, you gently grabbed his chin and pulled him into a soft, sweet kiss.
“You were, baby.” You told him confidently. “You were a very good boy today.”
You absolutely adored the look on his face as you said this. His features became so soft and hazy, almost as if he was drunk. Clearly he was so high on the praise, loving knowing that he had behaved well for you, that you were giving him your stamp of approval and that he was about to be well rewarded for it.
“Do you know what you want as your reward?” You asked, curiosity bubbling up inside of you.
Spencer’s eyes filled with equal parts glee and contemplation. This was such a mighty question.
As the question hung in the air, you reached up and gently took off his glasses, placing them on the counter beside the sink. As good as he looked in them, you didn’t want to accidentally knock them off his face and break them while you were stripping him out of his clothes. You then reached for the bottom of his sweater vest, still reeking with curiosity as to how he would answer the question.
He imagined all kinds of things - one of the obvious ones was of course, sex. Full blown intercourse. But something deep inside of him told him that he wasn’t sure if he was quite ready for that. Part of him feared ‘messing up’ and still felt self conscious - like he should perform well and impress you, even though you quite clearly took the lead and hadn’t been unimpressed with anything from him so far.
Deep down, he did know that his first time would be comfortable, safe, and beautiful if it was with you. And truthfully, he didn’t want it to be with anyone else. He couldn’t picture his first time having intercourse if it wasn’t with you in his ear, cooing about what a good boy he was.
But still, he wasn’t quite ready for that yet.
You got the vest off over his head, humming a calming tune quietly under your breath - a sign showing him that you were okay with the quiet, giving him time to contemplate his answer. As much time as he needed. You got to work on the buttons of his shirt, slowly and delicately undressing him as though he were a precious doll. It was something that caused goosebumps to form across his skin.
He thought more about it.
So - he didn’t want to ask for intercourse.
He definitely wanted to touch you more. He liked touching you - he loved touching you. He definitely wanted permission to touch you under your clothes, to explore your naked body. He thought it might be silly to simply ask for his reward to be ‘touch naked breasts please’. You might find that silly.
No, he could do better than that.
When you began to peel the sleeves of the shirt off his shoulders and it caused a quiet shiver through him, that’s when it struck him.
“I know.” He said quietly. “I know now.”
“You know what you want your reward to be, baby?” You prodded gently, gathering the fabric of the shirt in your hands and tossing it into the laundry basket behind you.
Perhaps you would get up early the next morning and do a load of laundry to wash his clothes so he could have something to wear home. You were struck with the vision of him wearing a pair of your sweatpants and one of your big comfortable tee-shirts walking back to his apartment from your car. You wondered - if the two of you were going to continue having these ‘sleepovers’ if you should clear a drawer for him to keep some clothes at your place and vice versa. That seemed far too domestic in your mind, but it just made good sense, didn’t it?
You were snapped out those thoughts when Spencer finally gave you his answer.
“I want to give you pleasure.” He breathed out quietly. “You’ve given me pleasure. I want to pleasure you.”
His choice of words was somehow utterly adorable and spine-tingling at the same time. He sounded like a dreamy paperback smut novel come to life. But as you reached for the buckle of his belt to continue undressing him, you had to ask for clarification, just to be sure.
“What do you mean by that, Spence?” You asked, punctuating the sentence with the click of the belt buckle.
“I -”
He let out a hot breath as you pulled his belt completely from the loops and let it fall to the bathroom floor with a quiet ‘clunk’. His next words were paired with the sound of the zipper teeth on his trousers coming down.
“I want to give you an orgasm.” He let out a quiet whimper when your hand grazed his dick as you worked the fly of the pants apart. “I want you to teach me.” He said quietly, his voice a lot weaker as he became dizzy with pleasure once again.
“You want me to teach you, huh?” You purred.
You became temporarily distracted from this thought when you peeled his pants down further and the most delicious sight was revealed to you. His cock, half hard and still trapped inside the pink lace - which was now stuck to his shaft completely with his own cum. Just as you had imagined in your fantasies, it was absolutely wet. Slick like a pretty pink floral second skin as it sat below his waistline, making his sticky pubes and his sensitive cock look even more sinful while he sat marinating in his own load.
You couldn’t help yourself - you reached forward and greedily groped his cock through the lace. You went so far as to trap the sensitive pink cockhead between your fingers and wring the roughness of the fabric around it, knowing that it would get a reaction out of him. Spencer sobbed with overwhelming pleasure and bucked his hips forward, such a beautifully broken sound. When you continued the motion, he surged a hand up to grab your wrist as he twisted his body slightly away from you - clearly overstimulated.
You stopped the roughness in exchange for a gentle petting of your fingertips, and you leaned in to nose across the skin of his neck once again.
You surprised yourself when your next words flew out of your mouth, almost without restraint.
“Hey, shh. It’s okay, Mommy’s just looking.” You told him in a hushed tone.
The moment that the word escaped your lips - Mommy - your gut dropped with crippling fear. You thought that he would hate it or become disgusted by it. But he let out another whimper, and when you looked into his eyes, you were met with nothing but a sharp burning and a reckoning that he had absolutely no clue he would have liked to call you that up until then.
You left the air blank for a moment, giving him time to adjust - time to back down from it if he wanted to. Or time to rise to it if he wanted it just as badly as you did.
“M-?” He squeaked out, and you gave him patience. “Mommy?” He said quietly, testing the waters.
He found that a warmth washed over him, and he liked it far more than he thought he would have.
Your breath caught in your throat and you held back a moan. Your muscles shook slightly as you resisted the urge to jump him - to make him say it again, with more desperation, with more lust. There would be plenty of time for that, you told yourself.
“Yes, baby?” You answered quietly.
“Can I take them off now?” He asked, referring to the panties feeling damp and cold and uncomfortable on his skin at this point. “You said you had some pajamas for me?”
You smiled at him. “I’ll take these off and clean you up a bit and then I’ll get you some pjs. Okay, baby?”
He nodded.
“Yes, M-Mommy.” He stuttered slightly, still wearing in the nickname - but he loved it.
He loved how it was warm and comfortable and familiar, and much less formal than calling you ‘Miss’.
‘Miss’ was a nice teacher, someone good at making rules, but ‘Mommy’ was someone he could make a home out of. At least he hoped that’s what the two of you were doing. ‘Mommy’ didn’t seem too strict about the rules, and honestly, Spencer liked that.
You helped him peel out of his slightly wet pants and completely ruined, soaked underwear. (You would definitely be washing those for a future use.) You tossed both items into the hamper, and then peeled off his cute (once again mismatched) socks and tossed those aside too before you grabbed a washcloth and soaked it with warm water to clean him off with.
The entire time you wiped down his cock, he let out sweet whimpers and gently bumped into your touch. By the end, it was almost difficult to keep him clean, because his cock was fully hard and leaking precum slightly as you smoothed the warm cloth over his lower tummy and made sure to gently clean off his balls. It was oddly adorable, him making a mess faster than you could clean it up.
When you were satisfied with this, you tossed the cloth into the sink and gave him a kiss on the cheek, telling him that you would be back shortly with a change of clothes for him.
It was only when he was standing alone in the bathroom that he felt exposed - only then realizing how truly well… naked he actually was. He crossed his arms over his chest, trying not to be embarrassed by it as he awaited your return.
After what felt like far too many minutes for his taste, you returned with something pink and soft looking in your hands.
The panties had been surprising, and while itchy, had made him feel… oddly pretty. He would be hesitant to admit it aloud, but you were already making him grow to like the color pink and how it made him feel.
You unfolded the piece of clothing and held it up for him to look at. It was a pair of long pajama pants that obviously belonged to you. (Spencer worried that the waistband would be too large for him, even with the tie that was available). They were made of a silken, soft material that seemed like it would be very light and comfortable to wear. They were a rosy pink color, very girly and feminine. Very pretty. He also noticed that you hadn’t brought a shirt for him, but he supposed that he didn’t have to worry too much about that. You had already seen him naked. Twice now.
“Good?” You posed.
Spencer nodded. “Thank you.” He said, giving you a small smile.
He felt that warmth coming over him once again when you helped him step into the pants and even pulled the fabric up over his body, going so far as to secure the tie around his waist, making sure the loose fabric wouldn’t fall off his hips. The thin, very unforgiving fabric easily showed every single detail of his cock through it - his hardness now perfectly outlined in pink, which only made the heat growing under your skin swell to a dangerous level.
Lastly, you grabbed his glasses off the counter and put them back on his face, making sure that he would be able to see fully and pay attention during his next ‘lesson’.
“There.” You said, giving him another sweet kiss on the lips. “Mommy’s good boy is all clean.” Spencer preened at these words. “And pretty as a picture.”
You delighted in the obvious blush that this last comment drew from him. You couldn’t help it - you loved praising him so sweetly, especially if it drew those kinds of reactions from him.
“Now, baby, I want you to go sit on the couch and wait for me.” You told him gently. “I have to go and put on something a little more comfortable for myself.”
You held back a devilish smirk. Of course, he had to think that this would mean you were going to put on some casual cotton pajamas - something genuinely comfortable and not at all a fulfillment to the male fantasy. And sure, you felt comfortable in lingerie. It made you feel beautiful.
That was part of the reason you were going to do it.
That, and you felt the need to make everything special for Spencer. This was going to be the first time he saw you in such a state of undress. Of course, you could argue that him seeing you in your panties and camisole a few nights ago had been pretty much the same, and he had looked upon you like you were a goddess then. But it had been practically dark then and you wanted this to be well lit and truly a fantasy come to life for him.
“Yes, Mommy.” He said, giving a small nod.
He left and walked out to the living room, going to sit on the couch as you had instructed, and you felt a delightful mischievous streak as you went into your bedroom and picked out what you would wear.
As you got dressed, you thought more about what he had said.
He wanted to give you an orgasm.
It would be very nice to have him inside of you. He had one of the nicest cocks you had ever seen - he was so long and beautiful, and seeing him inside of the fleshlight had caused you to imagine what he would feel like inside of you.
But you knew that if you let him fuck you, he would be clumsy. He didn’t have the technique or experience. Or the stamina. That was definitely something you wanted to work on first. And with how he had reacted from cumming in his pants earlier that day - something you had wanted, he likely would have a crash and be terribly anxious if he came while fucking you and you didn’t get to cum first.
Making you cum seemed to be his primary goal.
That brought you to the thought of putting him on his back - riding him, essentially using him like a human dildo. It would be intensely hot - having him below you, completely at your mercy. Getting to listen to his moans and whines and getting to see him completely fucked out underneath you while his perfect cock throbbed deep inside of your pussy. It would be perfect.
But - he wouldn’t learn anything that way. If he wanted to learn how to make you cum, it certainly wouldn’t happen like that. He would be fucked stupid and you would cum, and you would certainly enjoy yourself. But he would be brain dead and cum drunk. He certainly wouldn’t learn or retain anything from the experience.
No - if he wanted to learn how to make you cum, and if he wanted to put his genius to good use, then there was one certain way to do it.
You were fully satisfied with your plan. You took one last look in the mirror, and you were fully satisfied with your look, too.
You had put on a push-up bra with a black and red lace pattern, something that displayed your breasts well. With the padding and the ‘push-up’ effect, it definitely gave the cartoonish, fantasy effect that you were going for. You had on the matching garter belt, which had a few lacy roses adoring it. You didn’t have it attached to anything, though you had considered wearing stockings, you didn’t think Spencer would like the texture of them. You thought he would much prefer to feel your naked skin against him. You simply liked the look of the garter belt hanging around your waist, accenting the plushness of your stomach.
You also put on a pair of the matching lacy black and red floral panties - they were fairly cheeky, letting half of your ass hang out, and fairly sheer so that your trimmed pubic hair could be seen through the fabric in the front. And lastly, you had thrown on a sheer, long black robe over the whole thing, giving a very ‘Moulin Rouge’ look to the whole thing. Along with a pair of six black heels - the kind that hurt your feet and you would only use to, well - go to bed and keep your legs above your head while wearing.
You looked like a sex dream, if you did say so yourself.
Rather than walking into the other room to get Spencer, you went over to your bed and propped yourself up on some pillows in the middle of it, making sure the fabric of your robe was billowing and appealing around you before you called out to him.
“Spencer, honey, I’m ready!” You called out. “You can come in now!”
You heard him coming down the hallway and you swelled with eagerness, almost too excited to see what his reaction would be.
When he pushed the door open, he immediately froze when his eyes were met with the sight of you.
Standing in the doorway put him right at the foot of your bed, and he thought for sure - at some point between here and the museum, he must have died and gone to heaven. Framed by the twinkling lights that were wrapped around the head of your bed, propped up on a variety of fluffy pillows - you were an image of perfection.
Your breasts were pushed up to your chin, especially with the angle you were laying at, so perfectly framed by the floral lace of your bra. There was so much for his eye to greedily consume, and he didn’t think he should be allowed to consume it all so shamelessly. The curved planes of your body, the beautiful, soft zig-zags of your stretch marks, like guides laid out for his tongue. The fabric showing just enough skin, showing off every curve of your womanly body, so thick and ready to dominate him at a moment’s notice.
There was a gentle power in the way you were lounging back, framed by the black, soft fabric of your billowing robe - your whole body relaxed as you waited for him. It made him want to press his forehead to the floor in a bow to you, made him want to beg just for the precious permission to touch you.
“Is - that-? Your-? Paja-mas-?” He squeaked out, every single word becoming a pitch higher, making his shock all the more apparent.
“Kind of.” You told him with a giggle. “This is what I wanted to wear for my good boy.”
“You - you wore this for me?” He swallowed thickly around these words, clearly in disbelief.
If you weren’t mistaken, you saw his cock twitch inside those silken pink pants. You loved how even though the fabric covered him, the outline of his cock was so entirely visible. The band of the pants being loose had caused them to slip so low on his hips, even causing the top bit of his pubic hair to be visible as he stood there, entirely uncaring (and likely unaware) of it.
“Yes, baby.” You told him. “Now, come sit on the bed.”
Spencer rushed to follow your instruction, almost tripping over your bedroom rug in the process. That caused you to bite your lip, holding back a grin - you wouldn’t want him to think you were laughing at him, after all.
Spencer gently sat on the edge of the bed with his feet still on the floor, his bum just barely grazing against your thigh. You found it adorable that he was still being so timid about making contact.
You spread your legs wide, and gestured between them.
“Come sit here.” You told him.
“Oh.” He said quietly.
He stood up then and looked at the space between your legs. His expression was very comparable to a man afraid of heights looking like he was about to take a dive off a cliff into deep water.
“It’s okay, Spencer.” You assured him. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, remember?”
“I know.” He said quietly. “It’s just - it’s all so new.” He whispered. “I - I want to be good.”
You wondered if the last part was about his ability to behave and follow the rules, or… if it was about something else.
“Spencer, baby, are you worried about impressing me?” You wondered aloud.
The expression on his face at this was very telling - a flicker of embarrassment, his hands twitching as he ached to play with his fingers, wanting to distract himself from the conversation.
“Look, I know you’re new to all this. I’m not expecting you to be some sex expert, or a porn star or something.” You assured him. “That’s why I’m here to teach you, baby.”
“What if I do it wrong?” He asked, his voice still so timid, so small.
“Then I’ll show you how to do it right.” You told him. “That’s why I’m here. I’m not gonna laugh at you, or yell at you. I’m just gonna show you what I like and how to do it right.”
It should have been obvious. Someone of his talent, his caliber, someone who had everything come so naturally to him his entire life, someone who had accomplished so much at such a young age - he was terrified of tackling something unknown, something he was afraid to mess up. He was afraid of being a bad student.
He had just enough time in the living room to sit and stew in those insecurities, and now you had to lovingly battle them.
“Come sit with me, baby.” You urged, leaning forward to pat the space on the bed between your thighs.
You scrunched up the fabric of your robe so he wouldn’t sit on it, and finally, he moved to crawl between your legs - kneeling on the bed with his feet tucked underneath his bum and his hands fidgeting in his lap. His knees were slightly brushing against your inner thighs, but he wasn’t sitting terribly close to you. That was something you left alone for now.
You sat up slightly, leveling your body with his, and ran your hand along his arm, trying to soothe him.
“So, you said you wanted to learn how to give me an orgasm, right?” You posed.
Spencer nodded.
“Come on, use your words.” You told him.
“Yes, Mommy.” He said quietly, clearly still feeling insecure and hesitant. “I want that.”
He could only imagine how beautiful it would be so see you writhing in pleasure - to hear you calling out his name as you orgasmed, breathless. To see your body arching up off the bed as he brought you to climax. He could only imagine the headrush it would cause him to know that he had caused it for you.
“Well, I think the best way for you to do that is by using your hands.” You explained. “Stimulating me with your fingers.”
“My hands?” He questioned, looking from you down to his hands in his lap.
Honestly, it was never something he had thought about. Yes - he used his hands to make himself orgasm, but that was only because he was alone. The act of masturbation was more like a mind-clearing chore for him than anything. (Before you came into his life and turned all of his ideas about sex upside-down.)
He did have to consider that you used your hands to stimulate yourself, to masturbate - but he had no clue how.
But he guessed that would be part of the learning process.
“Yes, baby.” You smiled eagerly. “And I know you’re gonna be good with your hands. You’re very skilled because you do all that sleight of hand and close up magic.”
Spencer felt a rush of confidence at the praise, and couldn’t stop the grin that formed over his face at your words.
“Well, you see, sleight of hand doesn’t actually require that much dexterity or skill, like playing a sport does, because it’s more so about practicing the same movement over and over again until it becomes ingrained muscle memory.” He explained, easily sounding in his element.
You couldn’t believe how easily he had set you up for your next words. It was almost like he had walked into a trap.
“Well, what I’m going to teach you is also about repetitive movements.” You explained. “And it will definitely become muscle memory for you over time.”
Spencer smiled fondly hearing this. He was now more confident that he would be good at what you were going to teach him.
“So… where do we start?” He asked, becoming that eager student once again.
“Here, let me look at your hands.” You told him.
He was slightly confused by this, but didn’t have time to question it because you snaked your hands under his palms where they were sitting in his lap. His dick had wilted slightly from the anxiety, so he was only half hard in his pants. But he let out a small whimper when you accidentally crazed against it as you took his hands in yours and lifted them up to get a good look at them.
“It’s important that your nails are trimmed.” You told him, lifting his hands up close to your face to get a good look. “You don’t want your nails to be too long, or you might accidentally hurt me. And that’s just a general rule whenever you’re putting your fingers inside someone.”
He became slightly intimidated at the idea of putting his fingers inside you, but he tried not to let it show.
“I trimmed my nails last night.” He said, proud that he had done something good. “It’s a good grooming habit.”
He didn’t want to bring up the fact that - per his germophobia, he always kept his nails trimmed because he was afraid of too much build up getting under his nails and making him sick (even though he washed his hands multiple times a day). But he was just glad he could do something to please you.
You couldn’t stop staring at his hands. It was something you had noticed before in passing - but they were gorgeous. He had such strong, prominent muscles here. Long, thick fingers - he was going to do very well at this. Once he was well trained up, you knew you weren’t going to be able to go for very long without having those fingers inside of you.
“Very good, baby.” You said, finally snapping out of your lustful revere.
You raised one of his hands up and kissed the back of it. And then, continued on, kissing a path along his hand to his knuckles until you reached the tip of his middle finger. As natural as ever, you gently sucked his middle and ring finger into your mouth. Of course, you were just playing around, admiring. His hands were so nice that you couldn’t help but to have one in your mouth.
“Oh,” Spencer moaned quietly.
When you looked over at him, he was staring you down with lustful eyes. His lips slightly parted as his gaze locked onto the place where your lips drew his fingers in, taking him down to the second knuckle. You gently swirled your tongue around the digits as you enjoyed the thickness in your mouth. You could lightly taste floral soap on his skin and knew that he had washed his hands in the kitchen sink when you had sent him out to wait for you.
After a moment of this, you pulled back, your lips separating from his skin with a wet ‘smack’. (Though you wanted it to be longer - you loved those fingers, you could have easily held them in your mouth for a long time).
“Yeah, these are good fingers.” You assured him, giving him a deliberate wink. “You’re gonna be good at this, Spence.”
Spencer shuddered with pleasure at this.
You leaned back onto your pillows, making yourself comfortable while he watched in awe.
“I’m gonna take off my underwear now. Is that okay?” You asked gently.
“Yes.” He said, nodding eagerly. “Yes, Mommy.”
You lifted your hips to wiggle out of them. When the fabric was at your knees, he naturally met you halfway, taking the panties down your calves and very delicately untangling them from around your high heels. He concentrated on the task in a way that told you he wasn’t even trying to take a premature glimpse at your naked cunt. It was entirely endearing.
Once he had the fabric completely untangled from your shoes, you naturally moved your legs to bracket them around his body once again. This completely exposed your wet pussy to the cool air, and he stared at the underwear in his hands, clearly perplexed about what to do with it now.
“Just toss it on the floor, baby.” You told him.
He did so, and then, with nowhere else to look, his eyes locked onto your naked pussy for the first time.
Paintings and pictures had shown him the scientific side or even the objective beauty of the female anatomy. But seeing you laid bare before him, adorned in lacy accoutrements - this was truly sexy.
His blood ran hot, and his cock throbbed to full hardness in a dizzying record time as he laid eyes on the glistening lips of your pussy. Seeing how real you were - the way your skin tone faded from the shade that matched the rest of your body to the more raw, wet skin of your inner folds, clearly swollen with need. Your pubic hair, slightly trimmed and glossy with your wetness - everything about you was so real and it made Spencer’s cock ache.
“Scoot a bit closer, baby.” You told him, hitch your knees apart further, spreading yourself open for him. “Can you see okay?”
Your pussy made a wet sound as it spread open for him, and he let out a quiet gasp in awe as more of you was bared to his eyes. You were so beautiful, so raw, so perfect, so hot - he almost couldn’t handle it.
You knew he was likely becoming too entranced to answer the question. With the way his eyes were so tightly locked onto your cunt, you guessed that - yes, he could see just fine. Just seeing the utterly entranced expression on his face caused a throbbing heat through you, you were sure that if he paid enough attention, he would be able to see the wetness actively dripping out of you.
“Spencer, look at me.” You ordered sharply. “Look at Mommy.”
Spencer forced his eyes up to your face, and you smiled at him when he managed to follow the order.
“How much do you know about the female anatomy?” You asked him.
“I - I’ve read books.” He answered quietly.
“Good.” You told him, trying to be encouraging. “Do you know where the clitoris is?”
“I - um-” Spencer looked down at your pussy and found himself suddenly nervous again, not knowing if he should touch you, or if he should point, or-
“You can put your hands on me.” You told him. “I’m here to teach you, baby. Let me be your… in-person diagram.”
Spencer nodded.
Then, as naturally as he possibly could, he reached down and put a gentle hand on the top of your mound. He was so feather-light that you had to forcefully hold back a laugh, feeling ticklish at the touch. With his palm mostly spread out mostly over your pelvis, he used a thumb to pull your pussy lips back.
Then, he saw that very obvious swollen button staring at him. With the pointer finger on his other hand, he sought it out like a guided missile, entirely confident in his answer. Before he could truly think about it - he poked your clit with that singular finger, pointing to it as his answer.
“There.” He mumbled quietly.
“Oh-!” You breathed out sharply, your hips surging toward his touch.
His touch had been so abrupt (especially after so much anticipation on your part) that it sent an unexpected shockwave through your body.
Spencer immediately recoiled, believing that he had hurt you.
“I’m sorry.” He quickly apologized. “I’m sorry! Did I hurt you?”
He drew back both his hands instantly, curling them up to his chest as if he had done something terribly wrong.
“No, no you didn’t hurt me!” You quickly assured him, putting your hands up in a surrendering motion to drive the point home. “Everything is fine, baby.”
“Then what-?” He asked, his voice very meek and small. “What was that?”
“I’m sensitive, baby. My body is sensitive. And I wasn’t expecting you to do that.” You chuckled.
Spencer gave a small frown, clearly believing he had done something wrong.
“The clitoris has a lot of nerve endings.” You explained, giving a chuckle to try and lighten the mood. “That’s kind of the point. That makes things more pleasurable.”
“Oh.” He said.
After a moment, his body began to relax as he chugged with thought, his eyebrows knitting tight like they always did when he was pondering something.
“Oh… so that was… that was a good stimulation?” He posed.
“Yes.” You told him. “I want you to touch my clitoris because it feels good. It’s one of the easiest ways to make a woman feel good.”
He nodded, and then he moved his hands to touch you again. But you had a thought first. You caught his hands halfway, and held them in your own as you spoke.
“Listen first.” You told him.
He looked at your face obediently as you explained it to him.
“Typically, for women, there are two types of orgasms,” You put on your ‘teacher’ voice once again, and he relaxed and put his hands back in his lap, clearly eager and ready to listen, wanting to absorb the information to the fullest. “A clitoral orgasm or a vaginal orgasm. Can you guess what that means?”
Spencer thought about it for a moment.
“An orgasm achieved by clitoral stimulation versus an orgasm achieved by vaginal stimulation?” He posed.
You grinned. “Very good. Good boy.”
He grinned back, easily soaking up the praise.
“So, it depends on the person you’re with, but generally, most women achieve orgasm through a combination of both clitorial and vaginal stimulation. And a good rule of thumb is to always ask someone what they enjoy,” You told him. He nodded at this. “And also, looking at someone’s facial expressions and body language can tell you if you’re doing well at stimulating them. It’s like profiling.”
“Well… what kind of facial expressions and body language should I be looking for?” He asked.
You found this oddly amusing. To you, it was obvious that a back arching and lots of moaning and an ‘O’ face meant good sex, but Spencer was truly just that fresh. He simply didn’t know.
“Well…” You took a moment to gather a mental list for him. “Typically, someone makes a lot of involuntary body movements if the stimulation is good. Good sex stimulates your nerve endings, so it makes your muscles twitch, and it can even make your limbs flail around or make your back arch off the bed.”
Spencer nodded, his face still very intense and thoughtful as he took this in.
“And when people are enjoying sex, they usually make a lot of sounds. Gasps, moans. They might swear or call out your name. And most people do just tell you that they’re enjoying it,” You giggled.
Spencer nodded again. Then he posed a thoughtful question.
“What about facial expressions?” He asked.
“I know it might sound strange… but, you’ll know an expression of someone lost in pleasure when you see it.” You told him.
These words made his whole body tingle. And naturally, made him wonder what your face would look like when you were lost in pleasure.
“What do you prefer?” He asked. “Do you prefer clitoral stimulation or vaginal stimulation?”
“I prefer a combination of both.” You told him. “That’s usually what makes me cum the hardest.”
“You mean ‘cum’ as in orgasming?” Spencer said, repeating back this vocabulary to you with pride.
“Yes, baby.” You told him with a nod.
He beamed at getting the answer correct.
“I thought we could start with clitoral stimulation and then move on to vaginal stimulation.” You explained. “Usually it’s easy to… warm up with clitorial stimulation. It makes the vaginal muscles more relaxed before penetration.”
You found it odd to be using such clinical terms - the words were so stiff in your mouth, but you supposed that it was the healthiest way to explain everything to him.
Spencer nodded eagerly at this.
“You should wet your fingers first. Maybe spit on them?” You posed - this was a selfish request, wanting the delight of seeing him suck on his own fingertips.
“That doesn’t sound the most sanitary…” He said quietly, cringing.
Hearing him say this presented a new goal in your mind - getting him so fucked out and pliant that mister ‘it’s actually more sanitary to kiss’ would let you spit directly into his mouth.
You chuckled at his words, though.
“Okay, well… there’s lube in the drawer instead.” You said, motioning toward your nightstand. “Like I said last time, there’s no such thing as ‘too wet’.”
Spencer nodded eagerly and sat higher up on his knees to reach for the drawer. When he pulled it open, his eyes immediately grew wide at the array of… objects you had in there. Thick, veiny things, some round things he couldn’t even begin to propose the purpose of, something with small dots on it that looked like a cartoon tentacle-?
Knowing that he would become too distracted by these things and want to start asking questions, you reached over and grabbed the bottle of lube and snapped the drawer shut while his mind was still racing.
“Focus, baby.” You told him, putting a hand on his cheek and forcefully prodding his attention back in your direction.
He definitely had a lot of questions about those things. But he would ask you those questions later. (Because he certainly wasn’t going to forget about anything he had just seen.)
You handed the bottle of lube to Spencer. It was almost exactly the same as the one you had given to him and used with the fleshlight, except it was strawberry scented and the liquid was lighted tinted tinted pink as an association with the scent. It was your favorite to use with toys because the scent was absolutely delicious as a perfume in their air (and at this point, it was something you knew that you unconsciously associated with an orgasm).
You were naturally wet. You were throbbing and needy for him. But you knew that it would be nice to be extra slicked up to help him along.
After a moment of struggling (in which you pondered if you should interfere) he popped the cap, and then he looked from the opened bottle of lube to his hands.
“Right, so-” He mumbled quietly.
He poured a dollop on his extended fingertips that easily got carried away and dripped into his lap, and he gasped and began looking around for something to wipe it off his borrowed pants with.
“You can clean it up later, baby.” You told him. “Things are gonna get a little messy right now.”
“Yeah.” He nodded. “Right. Yeah-”
Then, he looked back to the bottle in his hand, and before putting it aside, he poured a dribble of the pink liquid (likely more than he had intended) onto the top of your mound, causing you to gasp quietly as the coolness dripped down over your hot, needy pussy.
“Is that good, Mommy?” He asked quietly, moving to put the bottle aside.
“That’s very good, baby.” You encouraged him gently.
“Okay - I - I’m going to - touch you now.” Spencer told you, announcing his movements in an entirely adorable way.
You nodded. “I’m ready for you, sweet boy.”
Spencer put his non-lubed hand gently on your inner thigh, and then angled two of his fingers back toward your clit again. This time when he made contact, he was much gentler, and you let out a sharp breath through your nose, warm tingles spreading through your pelvis at the feeling of him touching your swollen clit with such intention.
With his middle and pointer finger, he began a strange sort of spearing motion, rocking his hand into your pelvis. He touched your clit as though it were a literal button he was trying to push over and over again in order to make you cum. The movement didn’t do much for you - except draw a slight stinging from the area.
“Baby,” You caught his attention, drawing his eyes up from where he was intensely focused, staring hard at the place where he was touching your pussy.
“Spence, it’s - it’s more like this,”
You motioned with two of your fingers in the air, drawing small circles, demonstrating to him what he should be doing.
“Sorry.” He mumbled quietly.
“It’s okay, baby.” You assured him, reaching out and petting a hand through his hair. “It’s okay. You’re learning, right?”
He nodded. “I’m learning. I’m gonna do better.”
“I know you will, baby. You’re Mommy’s good boy.”
This bit of encouragement and praise seemed to fuel him, and he took this new instruction with vigor.
He went back to work using the motion you had just demonstrated and immediately, the difference affected you. His thick, cautious fingertips circling tentatively around your needy clit sent tingles up your spine, causing a warming glow to spread through your body that was slowly, but surely building up your orgasm. The beautiful artificial smell of the lube wafted through the air, and with the sight of Spencer in front of you, his forearm flexing slightly as he worked, it was all too perfect.
You let out a gentle moan, and Spencer smiled.
“That’s good?” He asked, looking from the spot where his fingers worked on your pussy up to your face.
“That’s good, baby.” You told him, the stimulation causing you to become slightly breathless already. “You’re doing so good for me.”
Spencer continued like this, running his other hand along your thigh, clearly feeling needy to touch and enjoy the softness of your skin now that it was freely available under his hands. His touch spread a warmth throughout your body that had you squirming under him, letting out more gentle moans under your breath.
Spencer watched you in awe, so entirely pleased with the results.
“You - you can go a bit faster, baby.” You told him, finding your throat slightly dry as your breathing sped up, more blood pooling in your needy cunt as his touch demanded it. “Speed up your fingers.”
“Yes, Mommy.” He easily obeyed.
Hearing those words in his sweet voice in addition to his touch, his fingers now moving in fast, delicate circles on your throbbing clit - it brought sparks through your body and caused slight tremors through your thighs.
It wasn’t going to be the most earth shattering orgasm you had ever experienced, but it was going to be a good one, mostly because it was Spencer. Because you had him in your bed, calling you Mommy, wearing a pair of your silky pink pajama pants that his hard cock was now leaking a stain into. All while he concentrated on learning how to please you like it was the most important book he had ever read in his life.
“Oh, Spencer!” You called out, arching your hips toward him. “Doing so good for me, baby! So good-”
Spencer stopped his movements suddenly, and your voice caught in your throat as you looked at him with tense confusion knit over your brows.
“What - what about the vaginal stimulation?” He asked. “You said you wanted me to do both, right?”
You couldn’t hold back the breathy chuckle in your throat.
If it had been anybody else, you would have immediately thought that they were edging you intentionally. But no - that wasn’t even a thought in Spencer’s head. He was simply eager to learn more, wanting to do the most to give you the best orgasm possible. He wasn’t content with mediocre. When he learned something, he wanted to be the best at it. And that thought caused any disappointment about your fading orgasm to be replaced by pride - you had somehow captured the best, sweetest boy, and you were going to use that to your full advantage.
“Right, baby.” You said, still catching your breath. You swallowed to gather some spit in your mouth to talk properly before you continued. “Okay, you’re going to continue what you were doing with this hand, but first,” You said this pointedly, motioning to the hand that was unmoving near your clit, not wanting him to continue and impair your ability to properly explain. “You’re going to work your fingers inside me.”
“What if I hurt you?” He asked, clearly timid at the idea that he might hurt you in any way.
“You won’t.” You told him. “You start with one finger, because that’s smaller, so you won’t hurt me. And then once my body has adjusted to that, you can add another. So it won’t hurt.” You assured him.
“So, I just need to use two fingers?” He asked. “Also, how do I know when to put the next finger?”
“You can add three fingers.” You told him. “And I’ll tell you when to add the next one. And you’ll know because you’ll feel the muscles relax around you.”
Spencer nodded.
“So… what’s the best… kind of… movement?” He asked, awkwardly gesturing with his free hand in a way that made you giggle.
He blushed with embarrassment at this, and you rushed to speak in the hopes that he wouldn’t feel awkward.
“You’re going to move your fingers in and out. Like simulating intercourse. The repeated penetration feels good.” You told him. “Be gentle at first, and I’ll tell you if you should go harder or faster.”
Spencer nodded.
He began slow, gentle circles on your clit again, and you let out a small moan at this. And then he moved his other hand down, skimming the fingertip of his pointer finger along your folds until he felt it - that pulsing entrance waiting for him, needy. He thought he imagined it, but it almost felt like your body was trying to suck him in.
“It’s okay, baby.” You told him, your voice gentle and encouraging, slightly hazy with pleasure. “You’re doing so good for Mommy.”
These words caused his cock to throb inside of the borrowed pants, and feeling a pulse of confidence because of it, he pushed the thickness of his finger forward and breached your entrance with his touch for the first time.
It was such a brand new feeling - having your wetness surrounding his digit, feeling your muscles clamping down on him. Feeling how hot your body was, especially compared to the lifeless coolness of a silicone fleshlight. It made him moan louder than the sound you easily trapped in your chest. You found yourself dizzied with a wave of pleasure at seeing his face so fucked out and hearing him moan like that because he was touching you.
“You like it, baby?” You asked breathlessly, angling your hips into his clumsy, unmoving hands.
Clearly he was so pleasure drunk and hazy that he had forgotten that he was supposed to be fingerfucking you. He was simply exploring, enjoying the feeling. You didn’t fault him for it, and you didn’t want to rush him, even with a filthy, needy ache growing deep inside of you.
“You’re so warm.” He replied, his quiet voice edging between awe and another moan of his own.
His eyes flickered between the place where he was touching your pussy and your breasts, heaving slightly with your labored breathing, and your face. Your lips dropped open slightly with pleasure, your eyes becoming glassy. He loved it so much. He loved you. He couldn’t get enough of this.
“Your body is so hot.”
You grinned widely at this.
Maybe a huge part of the endearment came from the fact that you knew he meant temperature, and not the typical slang meaning your appearance. It was something that clearly surprised him, feeling how hot your pussy was while being in direct contact with it.
“Thank you.” You told him. “Can you fuck me now, Doctor Reid?”
“I - Right.”
Spencer resisted the urge to apologize again, knowing you probably wouldn’t like it. And he tried to ignore how much it turned him on to hear you call him ‘Doctor Reid’ in this context. Instead - he set his attention on pleasing you.
He concentrated on picking up a good rhythm - moving his fingers on your clit in circles while he gently drew back the other hand and began moving it slowly in and out, trying to penetrate you in a pleasing way. He instantly became entranced by the natural wetness dripping out of your pussy, covering his finger, his knuckles, spreading to his palm the more he moved his finger. He was fascinated by the way your muscles did seem to give way to him, your body opening up as if you wanted more.
“Add another one, baby.” You moaned quietly. “Another finger.”
So his instincts served him right. At least somewhat. He hoped that he could remember this for next time, and please you better with less of your instructions, working more off of knowledge and instinct like this.
When he drew back his hand to do as you instructed, you added on some further advice.
“It also works better if your palm is facing up.” You told him. “The curve of your fingers is working with my body, not fighting against it.”
Spencer had been prodding into your entrance, poking his finger into you in a more exploratory way - but he definitely understood this.
“Yes, Mommy.” He said.
He flipped his hand so that his palm was facing the ceiling, immediately fascinated by how sticky his wet finger was. Then he gently prodded forward again, his middle finger joining the first. He continued to draw circles on your clit - a rhythm that became clumsy and unfocused at times, because he was easily distracted by the feeling of your tight pussy clamping down on his fingers, trying to figure out how hard he should go.
He was being incredibly tame, almost sloth-like in his movements, clearly afraid to hurt you. And he left you burning up, aching for release. The thickness of his fingers felt so amazing inside of you, better than you could have imagined - but he was so timid, and you hoped that you could draw more out of him.
“Spencer,” You moaned lightly. “Go faster. Come on, be a good boy for Mommy.”
You reached out and got a hand in his hair once again, gently cupping the back of his head and scratching your nails along his scalp.
“Yes,” He hissed out, leaning his head into your touch. “Yes, Mommy. I’ll be a good boy. I’ll be so good for you.”
He kept his eyes locked on you then, and, entirely fueled by the intense feeling pumping through his body, the pure need to serve you - he began pumping his fingers faster. Though it was clumsy at first, after a few moments, both of his hands fell into a natural rhythm with each other. His fingers circling your swollen clit became well timed with the thickness of his fingers pumping in and out of you, and in a few minutes - it became perfect.
You went from letting out a few solitary sounds to every other one of your breaths becoming a moan, your lips perfectly parted, showing him how well he was doing.
When he saw your heated eyes and your lips wrapped around those moans so perfectly, that was when he knew it - that was a face of desire. The one he would spend the rest of his days trying to recreate in you.
“So good, baby.” You moaned out, your words becoming less durable as he stole them away with pleasure. “Go harder.”
“Harder?” He warbled back.
His wrist was beginning to shake, not used to this kind of repeated effort. (Truthfully, he wasn’t used to any more effort than hefting around a thick book for a while.) But he would keep it up for as long as it took to make you cum. He would do it until his arm fell off if he got to see you fall apart beneath him.
“Yes, harder!” You confirmed, giving a firm tug on his hair to encourage him.
Spencer let out a sharp whimper at this, and angled his elbow further between your thighs, trying to put less strain on the muscles of his wrist so he could do as you instructed.
He began rubbing your clit with more urgency, and fucked his fingers into you even harder. He let out a moan as the sound then got to his ears - the wet slapping of his knuckles smacking up against the edges of your cunt, so rough and careless. He really was fucking you, he was taking over your body at your command, his touch was being used for your pleasure, and you were definitely being pleasured by him.
“Spencer!” You howled, a sound that would stick in his mind forevermore.
It was something that caught his entire body on fire in seconds and made his dick ache with red hot pin-pricks. He was surprised that he didn’t cum in his pants from that alone. But he was far too concentrated on keeping up the pace, fascinated by the way your pussy spasmed around his fingers, the way your thighs jolted and shook in a similar fashion that his legs had a few nights ago.
“Oh, Spence! Good boy! Good boy, oh-!”
You let out a sharp gasp and your head tilted back, and you seemed to gulp for air for a few moments while he continued to brutally fuck his fingers into you and rock his fingertips against your clit, angling your hips into the touches as though you were trying to get more from him.
Though it seemed impossible, his knuckles were flooded with an even further wetness. And though he almost couldn’t bear to look away from your face, he did chance a glance down to your beautifully raw, fluttering pussy and saw that there was a distinct puddle of wetness on the sheets below you. You were the most gorgeous fountain he had ever seen.
If he didn’t think it was out of place, he would have leaned down to lick you, curious about what your natural wetness tasted like.
“Oh, Spence!” You squealed, and if he wasn’t mistaken, it almost seemed like you were trying to squirm away from his touch. “Oh - oh, baby! You can s-slow down now! You did - did s-so good!”
Spencer slowed down, as instructed. And then - when he put it together in his mind, he gently eased off touching you entirely, feeling your pussy spasming and throbbing harshly under his touch. It was fascinating really, the way your body responded to him. He badly wanted to explore it more - explore it for hours uninterrupted. But for now, he had a simple question.
“Was that the orgasm?” He wondered aloud.
The unadulterated curiosity bleeding through his voice when he said this had you clenching hard around his unmoving fingers, so entirely turned on by the fact that he was just as awed by you as he was fine art or any thousand page encyclopedia.
You couldn’t hold back the bright, breathless chuckle that escaped your lungs in response.
“Yes, baby, that was the orgasm.” You told him. “What did you think?”
“That was… spectacular.” Spencer told you, sounding almost as breathless himself.
“You can pull your fingers out of me now.” You instructed, feeling slightly sensitive, unconsciously clenching around the digits and accidentally overstimulating your raw pussy in the process.
“Oh. Right.” Spencer mumbled.
He moaned quietly as he did so - loving the purely wet sound it made, like pulling away from a good kiss. He found himself in awe of the string of wetness that followed his fingers from your opening, like a thick string of salvia. He began rubbing his fingers together, studying it with utter fascination as you watched him with that concentrated look on his face again. You wondered how you had stumbled upon such a treasure of a man.
Your eyes fell from his face to the prominent bulge of his cock still pressing into the front of those thin pink pants, the wet spot his precum made now even wider, and you immediately came up with a new idea.
“Why don’t you touch yourself for me, baby?” You posed. “Your hand is already so nice and wet.”
“Oh - I - I - should-?” Spencer stuttered out, looking from his glistening hands to the tent in his borrowed pants, a million thoughts flying through his very vast mind.
“Hey, shh, it’s okay.” You soothed him gently. “Just tell me if that’s something you want. Yes or no.”
“Yes.” He said, a desperate whisper on his lips. “Can - can you untie my pants for me?”
You hummed in agreement and reached over, untying the well secured knot on the pants and then pulling the loose waistband down over his thick, excited cock, letting it spring out to hit his pelvis. He moaned quietly at this.
“Make yourself cum for me, baby.” You encouraged him. “You were so good for me, you made me cum so good. Such a good boy. You deserve this.”
You began running your fingers through his hair again, something he seemed to heavily enjoy. Spencer - now wildly chasing his instincts, working on need alone and trying to push back all those doubts, reached out with those glistening fingers and gently dipped into your pussy again. The contact on your beating folds caused you to gasp, and Spencer shuddered slightly at this, mumbling out at an excuse.
“I wanted-” He muttered quietly. “I just… wanted it to be wetter.”
“Good boy.” You moaned out. You definitely didn’t want to discourage him from doing things like this.
You wanted to mention the fact that there was a bottle of lube sitting less than a foot away. But clearly he had developed a fascination for your wetness, and you didn’t want to stifle that fascination in him or embarrass him.
Spencer then took those slicked up fingers and stroked them across his cock. Just the knowledge that it was your wetness, the essence of your pussy touching his cock - that had dizzying waves fluttering through him that almost had him crumbling to fall on top of you.
It took all of his remaining composure to stay upright. He was so furiously turned on that his cock was leaking precum like a sputtering faucet. He easily took advantage of that, cupping his hand into a well-known grip around his shaft and spreading that natural lubrication down from the sensitive, leaking cockhead to the rest of his dick. This caused his neglected, needy cock to easily light up and unconsciously buck into his own hand.
“‘s too fast,” He whined out.
His face took on a desperate frown as he continued to pump his hand over his cock almost mildly, almost as if he were afraid to go harder.
He looked so beautifully wrecked - with his brows creased downward and his lip caught between his teeth, with that messy hand pumping his own leaking cock.
“Too fast?” You asked, unsure what he meant.
“It’s - it’s not-” He stuttered out, his brain becoming scattered and wordless to describe the feeling rushing through him.
“Hey, shh,” You scratched your nails against his scalp again, grounding him. “Use your words, baby. Come on, be a good boy.”
“Mommy!” He whined, his hips bucking forward desperately into his own hand, wetly smearing precum to the point where it became noisy. Your pussy throbbed at this and you resisted the urge to reach down and touch yourself, not wanting to distract him.
“Baby, come on. Tell Mommy.” You ordered firmly.
He sniffled loudly before he attempted more words.
“Gonna end too fast.” He whined sharply.
He sounded entirely petulant - as though he were truly upset that he was going to cum too soon and the night’s activities would be over. As though the two of you didn’t have plenty more nights to play.
“It’s okay, baby.” You told him, reaching a hand over to thumb across his cheek, wiping away some of the frustrated tears that had escaped. “You did so good for me. You’re so good.”
“I want more.” He whined out, clearly frustrated.
“Mommy will always give you more.” You assured him. “But right now, you’re gonna cum for me.”
He let out a wounded noise, some kind of protest, but his hips jolted as he continued to fuck his own hand. You had him right there.
“Cum for me.” You demanded, your voice dark and demanding.
It was a command he absolutely couldn’t ignore if he tried.
“Mommy! Oh! Oh!”
He let out a sharp cry as he came, and pumped himself through it.
Neither of you had considered where he was going to cum. On his knees in front of you like that, he ended up in the perfect position to spill his load right onto your exposed cunt. Just like the last time you had played, he exploded with a massive power. Though he didn’t seem to have any care for where he was angling his cock or what he was cumming on, simply continuing to chant ‘oh, oh, oh’ under his breath with his eyes beautifully screwed shut and his mouth wide open, delicately pumping his hand on his cock to ride his orgasm all the way through.
Thick, white waves of his cum landed on your pussy - startlingly warm, almost blazen hot compared to the cool air of the room. Something that easily made you moan, especially when paired with the beautiful sight of his orgasmic face in front of you and the way he so carelessly fucked himself, clearly only wanting to achieve his own pleasure and not caring if it was a good show or not - which was what made him so damn beautiful.
When Spencer had milked himself dry, his cock starting to go soft in his own hand and the pleasant tingles becoming more like harsh pin-pricks of overstimulation, he put a hand on the wideness of your thigh for support, his muscles shaking. And then he finally opened his eyes.
He felt even dizzier when he saw the sight before him - your gorgeously lingerie clad body and naked pussy now covered in the thick white of his spend. A small voice in the back of his head wondered if you could get pregnant from this, and another told him that - yes, it would be good if you did. You would look so good pregnant with his child. A child the two of you made together would be smart, beautiful, charismatic, brilliant and perfect in every aspect.
He hadn’t even fully acknowledged that he was in love with you yet, but that was the moment he knew for certain that he wanted you to be the mother of his children. There was no other woman in the world who would be comparable to you - no other woman as perfect for the task.
(He didn’t know that you were on oral birth control, so it didn’t matter if he had cum inside you - you weren’t going to get pregnant. Not without intending to.)
“Oh, did I-?” He motioned toward the mess, seeming worried.
Before he could apologize for it, you reached your fingers down and began lightly padding through it, and Spencer let out a wrecked moan at the sight.
“You did such a good job, baby.” You told him, still entirely certain.
Before he could comprehend it, you brought a finger up to your mouth - one covered in the combined essence of yourself and Spencer, and curled your tongue around it, moaning at the taste. Spencer could do nothing more than make unintelligible noises, and you giggled as you released the finger.
“Good boy.”
Spencer was dizzy and hazy from all the pleasure, and there was only one thing on his mind.
“Can I have a hug now?” He asked, his voice still sweet and soft.
“Yes, baby. Come here.” You spread your arms wide and Spencer practically launched himself at you.
He laid completely on top of you, and you wrapped your arms around him, stroking up and down his back lazily as you enjoyed the peaceful calm of his breathing.
After only a few moments, you felt him start to fall asleep like that. His muscles turned to jelly, and his breathing came out in long, soft puffs. He looked so adorable nuzzled into your breasts that you didn’t want to wake him up, even if the drying mess between your thighs was becoming uncomfortable, and you knew that he definitely wouldn’t want to sleep in it for too long.
You continued petting your fingers through his hair gently. You would wake him up in a little while and get cleaned up, you assured yourself.
You definitely weren’t falling for him, feeling things that extended far outside of sexual attraction.
Nope. Definitely not.
...
If this series is going to get a third part, I would love to see more than 30 comments and more than 60 reblogs, and I would love to know what you guys would like to see from a third part in the series.
I will be honest, I am kind of starting to lose steam on this series already - the reason I have titled is as a Capsule Series on my masterlist is because I want each individual part to be able to be read as a oneshot with no particular big arcs in the story, and no need for a big dramatic ending. Also, if I do come back to this series in a few months or years and want to write more for it, I can.
If you have any ideas for this series - kinks/concepts/moments you want to see happen with these characters, please let me know. Even if those moments don't make it into a full-length third part, I might write your idea into a short spin-off like I did with Loverboy. I always leave the anon option turned on so people can send me messages if they feel shy or they don't want to reblog a fic onto their blog.
#sundrop writes#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid#sub!spencer#sub!spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fandom#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds x y/n
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BL Superlatives 2024
I knew I wanted to do a post for this, so I put out a request the last few days for people to put a few suggestions in my ask. I also asked some besties discord for suggestions as well.
Best Performance by a Road (submitted by @lurkingshan): Shan. The journey I went through when I read this. You don't know. I started giggling and I haven't stopped. Because first I was like... "by a Road?" and Road is capitalized. And I thought, did you mean OffRoad? And then I thought, no, surely they meant like... two characters having a moment on a road. Then I thought wait - do they mean like... THE ACTUAL ROAD? And I honestly couldn't decide which way I wanted to answer this, hence the giggling.
So.
You get all three, LMAO.
Best OffRoad Performance: Vee, Century of Love
Vee screaming in the stairwell at the news his grandma was going to die soon? I had chills. OffRoad let out a scream so guttural that I actually started crying and got goose bumps. I don't think this is that moment, but it's close enough.
Best Performance by a road: Shirasaki and Hayama from 25 Ji, Akasaka de (At 25:00 in Akasaka).
Hayama running after Shirasaki and them working out their miscommunication and confessing their feelings was peak BL for me this year.
Best Performance by a Road: The Hallows, Pit Babe.
This racetrack saw so much! Racing, accidents, sabotage, sex. This is one busy stretch of road.
Most daring plot? (Submitted by @toastofthetrashfire): 4 Minutes
The plot of 4 Minutes is kind of insane, where the bulk of the show takes plays during Great's "four minutes" - a period of time where his brain is lacking oxygen before he dies. It's wild. It's complicated. It's riveting.
Best Hallucinogenic Moment: Caged Again
Junior rings a gong and triggers some kind of hallucination for him and Sun, where they have a super important conversation about the state of their humanity and their hallucination is DEMONSTRATED AS A CARTOON in which they are their penguin and panther forms. It's as unhinged as it sounds and yet it was the most adorable hallucination I have ever seen. This show consistently delivers within it's premise even when it goes in unexpected ways.
Best Use of an Honorific: Jane, The Trainee
Jane wanted Ryan to tell him why Ryan was angry and switched his honorific from Khun to Phi. I actually caught this by ear myself at the time, without the subs, so my reaction was Ryan's reaction, about to lose our goddamn minds. And then Ryan wanting to use Phi for Jane from then on? I was so absolutely gone with them.
Show That Made Me Unhinged: Dead Friend Forever
This show. THIS SHOW. It hooked me with it's slasher premise. I called it "8 Stupid Teens in a Cabin" (affectionate). This show absolutely locked in it's chokehold with episode five and the flashbacks as we started to learn what actually happened to Non. I made meta round up posts (there are four of them) which I updated twice a week (I had help from @toastofthetrashfire) and absolutely did not spend hours analyzing things like back pack colors and school insignias. Needless to say, so much fun was had.
Cutest Animal Cameo (submitted by @toastofthetrashfire): Moo Deng, Caged Again
Moo Deng has long been ready for her TV debut and Caged Again was the first to step up.
Best Use of an Unexpected Prop (submitted by @benkaben): Clothes Pin, The Heart Killers
Presented without explanation, lmao.
Most Jaw-Dropping ZeeNunew Moment (Submitted by @toastofthetrashfire): THE BEHIND THE FAN KISS ON STAGE.
youtube
Best Smile That Can Knock You Out Cold (submitted by @tankhunmybeloved): Because you asked for it, lmao.
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🦄unihorns4salenotscam follow
can the nation-people rpf shippers STOP posting their headcanons and fic in the main tag????? People use the main tag for REAL information and news about the reps!
🚬fruityfag follow
says the person wiht a link to their scotnor fics in their pinned
🦄unihorns4salenotscam follow
did I say anything about NOT writing nation-people rpf AT ALL?? No?? I said to keep it out of the 👏MAIN👏 TAG. piss on the poor ass website I swear.
🌋hallgrimskirkjafucksnotredame follow
Yo guys? I think one of the nation-people found this post. Mr France literally posted this an hour ago:
🥑anavocadothaaaaaaaanks follow
NOT EVEN A THOUSAND NOTES??? I FEEL LIKE I'VE SEEN THIS EVERYWHERE
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🧭lostwanderer69
Hey uh........... did anyone tell the US rep that those panera bred lemonades are hella caffeinated??
🧟zombie--davie
how. how many did he drink?
🐗40to50wildhogs follow
He's literally immortal he's fine.
🦬alfredfjoneshater follow
FUCKING 12????????????????????????!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
👻givemeblueflowers follow
He was in the middle of drinking lemonade 13 when he kicked the bucket. Some tiktoker was recording him on a Live
👑lotrmonarchist
apparently he was with m. Denmark. who. kept drinking more lemonades until the manager cut him off...
🥀valentinorose follow
P sure dude said once he ate hellebore like salad. Not surprised.
👑lotrmonarchist
i thought he only said that to make historians leave him alone
🧭lostwanderer69
No no, I believe it
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🪆theinn3rm3
OK. Let's settle this.
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🎪thenightcircusstolemylunchmoney follow
🏴stopdraininmeswamp-deactivated
Anyone else notice he does this when some senator or w/e pisses him off?
🏒ruscanhockeyrpf follow
the fbi got him
#war thunder #nation people bs
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❄️snowmiserbottomsurgery follow
not the swifties acting racist af after mr. korea called taylor "that one a-pop artist" 💀💀💀
❄️snowmiserbottomsurgery follow
me looking at the notes ONE FUCKING HOUR after i hit post:
🧟♀️realzombiedavie
I'm convinced tswifts has mind control powers like how england sees fairies or miss belarus sees ghosts
🥐iaminlepain follow
Everyone needs to stop spreading around that the nation people have magic powers it's been proven again and again that it's fake.
☕blackcoffeegayweexist follow
realzombiedavie why'd you use an honorific for Miss Belarus but not Mr. England?
🧟♀️realzombiedavie
Cuz I actually respect Miss Belarus lmao
#RIP to OPs notes #turning off my asks in case england stans come after me again
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📰nationrep-rpf-confessions follow
Dear god wtf is up with all the colonizer/colony (or ex-colony) ships lately??! I know RPF is already a gray area morally, but can we at least not be gross about it?!
✂️ausprutoxicyuriscissoring
This is some of the most low effort bait I've ever seen.
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📎cl1ppyrev1val follow
Thanks for using my correct pronouns tho ig?
📍geoguessr-lowscore follow
the "schrodinger's country person" is sending me
🗡️teutonicsword follow
#negative tag #nation people mention #doesn't op write liechtenstein x reader? why's anon salty about the pruliech?
if anon's the person i'm thinking of, they selfship with Miss Liechtenstein and harrass anyone else that selfships with her or ships her with another cuntry-person
#oh god i'm p sure i know who anon is #hasn't staff termed them like 6 times? #how many accounts have they made?
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🐻❄️hibernatingkumaku follow
🐻❄️hibernatingkumaku follow
@ everyone asking me for the link here it is enjoy.
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everyone clap and cheer for my beautiful daughter who has every disease 🥰 her name is þerindë because her wheel is made out of an embroidery hoop; she is entirely handmade and boy howdy does it show
a whole bunch of things have stopped working since i took that video last night and i'm not sure how much more wherewithal i have to keep messing with her, but i did manage to spin about two feet of something before then! so i'm showing her off a bit now, and if i can figure out what-all i fucked up maybe you'll see more of her in the future. some process and progress photos under the cut (not a tutorial. do not do this. i cannot sufficiently stress how bad of an idea this was and is*)
(*if you are going to do this and have questions not answered here i am always happy to answer them, inbox and dms are open etc, but like. i would strongly advise against it)
here's the hoop! it's about a foot across, with a groove carved out with a speedball. this ended up being way too shallow (who'd'a'thunk) so the final version is a lot deeper than what you're seeing here. the paint stirrers are held in with straight pins because i was worried regular nails would just crack the hoop lmao. my girl is so deeply and profoundly scuffed <3
the flyer is made from three cedar shingles glued together because i didn't have a solid piece of wood large enough. astonishingly nothing broke while i was sawing out the rough shape and it whittled down pretty nicely! the hooks are scrap 2mm copper wire, the orfice is a couple inches of plastic drinking straw, and the pulley wheel is also hand-carved, which is why it looks like a fucked-up oreo and has the weird hitch at the top of the spin that you probably saw in the video 🙃 frankly i am astonished it works as well as it does
the wheel frame is. man. the axle supports haven't broken yet but frankly it's a miracle they're still in place with how much strain they're under every time. the original base was that weird little bit of paint stirrer, which (shocker) did not work out in the long run; it's been replaced by an offcut from the frame and is significantly more sturdy now. it's surprisingly level, though, and turns pretty smoothly all things considered!
the frame was a nightmare start to finish; i've never done any serious woodworking before in my life and the whole thing was just kind of slapped together without a plan or any sort of concrete measurement. it wobbles so fucking bad and every few hours i have to push a couple of the parts back together where the nails are sort of drifting out of the wood. you may observe a weird post sticking out the left side of the mother-of-all; that is supposed to be for scotch tensioning. does it actually do that? sort of! the belt is a length of cotton crochet thread that is, after much fiddling, just the right size to not slip out more than once every three minutes.
treadling was another pain to figure out and i think i probably made it way more complicated than it needed to be. it still doesn't work very well and i can't tell if that's something i can fix hardware-wise or if i just have to suck it up and practice a lot more. turns out feet are not as coordinated as hands! i would say "now i know for next time!" but frankly i am never doing this again. you couldn't pay me. speaking of which, i did the math and at my current pre-tax hourly salary i could've bought two brand-new ashford travelers with the number of hours i spent building my awful rickety daughter. at the end of the day, do i love her? immensely. is she "good"? by no stretch of the imagination.
anyway. this was a terrible use of my time <3 but i do finally feel confident enough in all the parts of a spinning wheel and what they're for that i can brave the dangers of facebook marketplace's "spinning wheel" category without getting too badly scammed! which is pretty valuable in its own right, i guess.
#hand spinning#spinning wheel#my darling girl. i love her so much. she is so bad at her job#aggressive linguistic prescriptivism#subcreation
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