#some days you just have to take the L
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
bifilthatonthatseson · 5 months ago
Text
Some days you think the whole parenting thing is going okay. And some days you call your kids in for dinner and discover your four year old has smeared ash from the outdoor fire pit over every square inch of his body
3 notes · View notes
axolotlclown · 1 year ago
Text
I suppose I'm a little late to the party, but I needed time to collect my thoughts.
Here's the thing, everyone's caught up on Caiti's age and whether she consented. To me, that isn't anywhere near the point. Her being so young is certainly creepy and strange, but not the point.
Here's the first thing, though less important than the next. As an adult, it is blaringly clear how irresponsible these "adults" were. Two grown ass men supplying alcohol to underaged girls in a hotel room. They were up drinking until 6am. They were one noise complaint away from getting the cops called.
Second thing. While underage drinking in the US is fairly normal, 18 is still pretty young here. Also, publicly admitting to supplying alcohol to an 18 year old is crazy, but not the point.
18 year olds can't compete with grown adults when it comes to alcohol. They don't have the same tolerance. There never should have been any "one upping."
No one should have gotten that drunk. The fact that there was a girl leaving, vomiting in her hand is fucking ridiculous. When someone, regardless of their age, is drinking too much too quickly, you cut them off and give them water. This is how college parties are run. Once you start wobbling a little too much, your speech is slurred, and you stop being a person, someone gives you water and walks you home.
And nobody walked her back to her hotel room?? Two grown men. I don't give a shit how tired you are. You always walk a girl home. Who the fuck raised you??
I am an adult man in college. I have been around a lot of different men. I have hung around men that behave like this. Let me promise you this: they got those girls drunk like that on purpose. They both wanted something. When they didn't get it, they just let the girls go. They were never interested in their safety. They were never interested in who they were.
And let me promise you this: there's never just one girl. And any well brought up man would have cut them all off and sent them on their way. There is way more to this situation than lets on.
And of course George never asked for her consent. It was never a question. They brought those girls back to that hotel room with the thought that they'd get something out of it. To George, he heard 18 and thought, "oh cool, she's legal."
I see this happen all the time in college. Usually men don't grow out of all of it, but they usually grow out of begging like a shitty dog in some random girl's DMs. To hear a grown ass man, 26 years old, behave like a fucking 19 year old sophmore in college is pathetic. I'm not interested in giving pathetic men any more time.
Also, love and light to Caiti, she looks like she's 16. "I didn't know she was 18!" First off, doesn't matter. Second off, I would've guessed she was a minor, so I know you checked first. Or else you're even dumber than the fucking college kids. Damn.
55 notes · View notes
madaqueue · 25 days ago
Note
how do you say "childe" bcs i read it as "child" or "chilled" 😭😭
CKSKFKDKCKDKFKND it is ‘child’ :33 its like a nickname/title basically (but it’s also why i usually use ajax when im writing because saying ‘i’m going to top childe’ makes my brain . unhappy FKDKFKDKFJD)
16 notes · View notes
leporinelou · 2 years ago
Text
it’s the way billy’s a scapegoat not only in show but for the duffers too like
people will spend all their time focusing on the actions of a fictional teenager rather than question the fact these two white men were all too eager to have a racial slur used against a literal child and have felt comfortable having racism in lucas’ story without it actually go anywhere all while putting no focus on him as a character
they use it as a thing, as a prop, rather than acknowledging it as the systemic issue it actually is - like they use it, have lucas canonically experience racism and then push his character to the back
it’s so blatant too, there’s nothing subtle about it but because everyone’s so busy focusing on big bad billy hargrove, racism doesn’t get discussed in the stranger things fandom the way it should because everyone’s too busy focusing on the actions of one single fictional character
124 notes · View notes
mer-se · 24 days ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
/falling back in love with film.
4 notes · View notes
deus-ex-mona · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media
s. s ave me, meoto

#n o t me clinging to meoto to retain my sanity bc g o o d l o r d today was the worst#today was truly a very bad; very horrible day indeeeeeeed#man. today truly was a comedic tragedy in every way possible. i’d laugh if i were anyone else tbh#first i couldn’t start my workstation bc we were out of this cleaning acid thing.#t h e n this other branch lab sent over a precise amount of [reagent] that we needed to make the cleaning acid thing#*and* what’s worse was that they also demanded like. 1/5 of the acid we mixed. like bro. make it yourself mans.#but the worst part was when i tried to use a dropper to poke this sediment out of [tube i was supposed to be cleaning]#bUT THEN HALF OF THE DROPPER MELTED BC THAT BUGGER CAN’T HANDLE HIGH TEMPERATURES AAAAAAAAAAAAAA#stupid new droppers man. the old droppers could handle 100 degrees just fine. s o now the tube is clogged with melted plastic and it’s just.#life’s *really* great sometimes yk~~~~? (Ê˜â€żÊ˜)#and so the night shift dude who came to take over the workstation against expectations seemed kinda pissed that i hadn’t started anything#and im just there. with my intestines wriggling about like internal abdominal worms. tryin not to cry in the face of my mistake.#while he’s fumin’ away like a freakin’ chimney or sth. like. man. no one asked you to take this workstation. you came here on your own. :(#anyway i ditched him and left for my break to calm myself down only to be approached by some random terribly lost middle aged to old lady#who was looking for directions to *somewhere* but she only spoke chinese aaaaaaaa#and i can’t read maps/i don’t even live in the area of my workplace so i have no idea if the lady managed to make it safely#but. lol. the lady showed me her message screen when she asked me for directions to her destination#and by pure coincidence the person she was texting is apparently related to someone with the same first name as me#the cons and cons of having common names man. i hope the lady managed to find her friend with the same name as me though lol#anyways. pls hw im begging. pls drop the crossfade for lxl birthday tmr i n e e d more meoto to carry on—#s o b s this is what im living for now ig. meoto


..
7 notes · View notes
helielune · 8 months ago
Text
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaauauuuuuuuuuuuuuuuhhgggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
#thoughts from hel#so basically i submitted a cover letter with some highlighted text in random colors bc i forgot to unhighlight them before submitting#(i highlight things to remember to change them for each job app but i might have to deprecate that practice after this)#and then i realized and was like oh fuck and i was like well maybe i should just own it y'know. it's me being super innovative and creative#and also since i highlight stuff to change all the highlighted texts were the most relevant parts of the cover letter anyway#but the highlighting job was messy as hell after i dragged sentences to and fro all over it while i was formulating that thing. like#the highlighting started kind of in the middle of my sentence and had extra highlighted spaces and colors n stuff it was. haphazard.#so i was like okay. i probably can't gaslight (by sending psychic vibes to the recruiter-- since it's an online form#with no direct communication between me and them whatsoever) the recruiter into reasonably thinking this highlighting job#was on purpose. so i spent a full like TWO EXTRA HOURS spiraling into “can i submit the form twice or should i just take the L on this”#and ultimately submitted it a second time with the fixed letter. uhhh hopefully it was the fixed one but i'm too tired to care now#part of the job description was “attention to detail” so i definitely failed that one the first time around but the recruiter#who reads (hopefully. because with how saturated the job market is now they might not even do that) my apps#had BETTER see all the fucking attention to detail i paid to making sure my decision to resubmit would be a good one#telepathically. of course. (the difference between overthinking and attention to detail is how much you are appreciated)#i literally went on so many forums and the help page for the recruiting application website thing to find out how exactly they handled#duplicate applications bro i could RECITE this shit to anyone now. fuck#time to go to sleep. tomorrow is a new day. with ten+ more companies to apply to. 👍
2 notes · View notes
the-acid-pear · 9 months ago
Text
Mental illness is insane I'm just having dinner w my father eating this a little too spicy pasta enjoying the Yeowch on my throat and the silence and suddenly I'm like yeah I'd kill myself.
#luly talks#i mean it came from out of nowhere grieving but it's so bizarre#like i just got hit by this very heavy rock in my skull this overwhelming and genuine urge for a second that yeah that'd be ok#that's the correct path to take and there's no physical changes i just kept on chewing on my all too spicy bc he used the wrong condiments#pasta. like sure i was a little zoned out maybe if you paid close attention you'd have seen my eye getting lazy or something but like. thats#it. and i always in zoning out#like this wasn't even an intrusive thought those come out of nowhere and just are echoing chambers of fear and shame#this was a calm resolution like yeah. that's the way to go alright.#y'know kind of unrelated but i always wish i had someone to talk about some mental health things i cant w my therapist#more on the speculative diagnosis thing. if you dont know what i mean shame on you for not keeping up with the Luly lore /silly#it's really hard being neurodivergent and im not talking about autism rn that i can manage but gestures vaguely its hard when it's#a group project. it's hard when everything is so fuzzy#because sometimes i tell myself i only think of this bc im all day alone and thinking but like#what. am i supposed to be getting non stop stimuli 24/7 least i realize i hsve something in my skull going on?#i blame my mother for that one she always made me ashamed of being sick or whatever acting like it was my fault#like me noticing symptoms was equivalent to me making them real#as if that wasn't just absurd like. the symptoms are here you twat. I'm not placebo effecting myself w shit#even the ppl who do like. the symptoms are real.#aaahhh siiiiigh yet another common L#brain stuff
3 notes · View notes
rosicheeks · 1 year ago
Note
Lace: Your favorite things to wear?
(Also it's nice to see you on my dash again, I've missed you! 😊)
lol that’s a complicated question tbh 😂😂
4 notes · View notes
kisskissgotohell · 1 year ago
Text
i just wanna point out that, like. it's okay to disagree with the main character. just because they're the pov of the story doesn't mean they're infallible or that their word is law? you can like that character that tried to kill the mc. you can think the mc made the wrong choice. you can forgive things that the mc would never forgive, or choose not to forgive things that the mc does, because you're not the main character. you are the reader of the story, and just because you can't change it (and it's not the author's responsibility to capitulate to fans) doesn't mean you can't form your own opinions about it. it's fictional! that's the point! have fun with it!!
#sometimes.... main characters....... can be wrong#of course authors will generally try and make you like or agree with the mc (in some way at the very least) but like.#even the most perfect 'good guys' have flaws or else it's not usually a very well written story. and it's okay to acknowledge that!#it's not even really an issue of the whole 'protagonists can be bad guys/antagonists can be good guys' thing (ex. death note)#but like. even if you 100% root for the mc and think they're totally in the right you can still..... like the character that betrayed them?#nothing you say or think about them will make them NOT betray the mc in canon. so why does it matter if you like them despite it?#it's fiction - you can like multiple parts of the story simultaneously. it's okay. i give you permission.#on a similar note. it's okay for people to have different opinions about the same thing#to continue the analogy: maybe your friend doesn't forgive that guy for the betrayal but you do. that's great!#everyone can have an opinion about that guy and just bc someone disagrees with you doesn't mean you can harass them to change their mind.#while im down here#sorry about all this. im procrastinating on a project and ill do anything to stop thinking abt it so im thinking abt this instead#take death note. i do NOT agree with light but i also don't necessarily agree with L either. and i like both of them!#light HATES L and yet he's one of my favorite characters. i hate everything light does and yet i really enjoy reading from his pov.#its not black and white!#have opinions! change them after two days or think about the same blorbo for years! critical thinking and personal enjoyment can coexist!#anyways.
5 notes · View notes
hyperfixation-tangentopia · 2 years ago
Note
*grabby hands* Favorite oc rant?
Okay, I'm mildly embarrassed to admit I've had this sitting in my inbox for like 4 days, and I spent most of my time working on one of the OCs while trying to decide which one I wanted to talk about.
...the OC I was working on did not end up being the one I'm talking about lol.
We're talking about mystic monkeys today because that's what I've been invited to do! Whoo!
So, because I could not find basically ANY reference of personality or ANYTHING for the other two celestial primates, I'm basically working ground-up off my weird interpretations of the vague little synopsis I've found of each.
So...Tongbi is a bookworm. Period. He's a little weirdo. Nobody knows what his deal is because he vetoes any sort of social session to bury himself in whatever book or page Chikao stole got for him that day/week or, if it's at nighttime, sit and stare at the stars. And I mean stare. I mean nobody knows wtf to do with him because monkeys usually move around a lot and he will stare, just flipping his tail between his hands, at the stars for hours. He hoards anything space-related, particularly books and models, and will re-read the same books seven times over in a row for no reason other than he just likes it.
Sometimes he'll get so invested he won't come out all day, in which case Chikao will go inside and force him to see sunlight, eat, and let her groom him, usually in exchange for the promise to listen to him ramble about whatever he's reading about that day. She only really retains 30%, but she still knows more about space than she ever cared to because it's the only way to get Tongbi to let her groom him sometimes (because he won't groom himself). He does get dragged along on Chikao's shenanigans and usually just kinda quietly vibes while Chikao does her thing, but does help her out sometimes if she asks for it. He thinks it's kinda fun to watch her create chaos.
There have been times where the two have stayed up way too late rambling back and forth to each other, and Tongbi will sit there and point out stars. Occasionally they attract other people during this and they'll stay up all night watching stars even though Chikao doesn't understand any of it, or sometimes Chikao will get distracted halfway through their rambles and the two will "haunt" a location for the fun of it.
The other monkeys have basically just agreed Tongbi is a weirdo and Tongbi either doesn't realize or doesn't care, so Chikao just adopted him, essentially.
Anyway that's my ramble. Most of the Tongbi-Chikao relationship was on Tongbi's side of the relationship because I was rambling about him, there's more it's just more Chikao-centric and I was enjoying rambling about Tongbi. I love him. Ty.
6 notes · View notes
mutualhl · 2 years ago
Text
hiii
2 notes · View notes
luckycaricature · 2 years ago
Note
Hi hopefully this isnt gonna sound super weird but i suddenly remembered i used to watch ur friendsim playthroughs on youtube years ago and went on a whole rabbit hole to find ur channel n socials again. I used to really love watching those videos, enough that i lost interest in homestuck when u stopped posting them (was never really into homestuck apart from ur vids tho lol) anyway i wanted to ask if those videos are still around anywhere since i cant find them on ur utube channel? If theyre gone from public view forever i understand, i just wanted to let u know u really created something that after almost 5??? Years??? I still have really fond memories of and they always brightened my day :)
I can’t find the [other person] who asked, but. [Here you go].
5 notes · View notes
harlotofandraste · 3 months ago
Text
suffering from the consequences of my actions (headache because i ran two (2) necessary errands in one day)
#ugh this fucking sucks#horrible day with horrible decisions#because the connections still suuuuckkk bc of flood damage i decided to drive to the train station#instead of taking the bus#bad decision#did not get a parking space#so then i had to drive into vienna#bad and scary#already had a headache before getting to the doctors appointment#and i like and respect my psychiatrist#but she thinks there's something else wrong with me#and wants me to get assessed for trauma stuff#which like why does every mental health care professional end up thinking there is something else something trauma related#like i know that SHOULD tell me something that they all end up at that conclusion#but like I don't see it or at least not anything like actually THAT bad#sure my parents weren't perfect#but if THEY fucked me up so badly then how in the fuck could anyone raise functioning children#i had it soooo mucb better than the average child even in my first world country#unless i have some michelle remembers level crazy shit going on like i do not think this makes any sense#but why do they all think trauma????#the actually traumatic stuff only happened later when i was already messed up#IN the hospital and BY the staff#but they insisted from the beginning i was hiding something like that back then as a teen i was protecting my parents or whatever#and literally please tell me why i am like this l#i would be thrilled#if i knew#i'd be absolutely ecstatic if you hypnotized me and i suddenly remember sth actually that horrible and not just.#mommy never hugged me and had high expectations.#because that is not something I can see as an explanation#anyways then i had to drive home with a bad headache and go shopping with a headache and now my head hurts at home
0 notes
ikchos · 2 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
feat. zayne (l&ds)
cw. dubcon, smut, breeding kink, impregnation, period / ovulation tracking, unprotected sex (be safe evb).
zayne was a doctor. your doctor, specifically. it was nice to have a sweet boyfriend like him who was also a licensed physician. whenever you were sick, he'd nurse you back to health. if you accidentally burned your hand when trying to cook, he'd go above and beyond to help you. he paid more attention to your health and body than you did.
sometimes he'd pay a little too much attention. he wasn't an obgyn but he'd keep track of your periods but... don't all loving boyfriends and physicians do that? zayne would also take note of when you were ovulating... a little strange but hey, he was just doing his best to take care of you.
your boyfriend seemed to act a little funny during your ovulation cycle, though—touchy-feely, desperate, hungry. his kisses were so heady, getting you so intoxicated that you had no choice but get drunk on the taste of his mouth. hands that were once featherlight now rough and wanting to touch every part of your body.
you just assumed that he had a hard time at work and needed to release some frustration... oh, how wrong you were. all zayne could think about was how pretty you'd be with a swollen belly. you, the love of life, carrying his baby and him taking care of you both. the thought made him crazy.
he laid you down with fervent kisses and fingers curling inside of your cunt. he couldn't wait; he needed you. and when you looked up at him, all laid out and pretty, he knew you needed him too. your hole was a sticky, wet mess—see, even nature was telling him to make you a mother.
the sounds you made were so sweet—nothing but strangled praises and whines whenever he would split you open with his cock. any other time, zayne would be tipsy on the feeling of your pussy gripping around him but now he was practically black out drunk. he was going to fill you with his cum twenty times over until you got knocked up and your body didn't seem to reject that idea. you would like that, wouldn't you?
his hips stuttered and he kept a firm hold on your throat as he stuffed you full with his cock, a mix of grunting and whining as he finally stilled himself as close to your womb as humanly possible and let his warm seed fill you up until your fluttery cunt couldn't hold in any more. you'd be the perfect mother.
zayne hoped that this was finally the time he knocked you up for real. but if not, that's okay... you had a full two weeks in your cycle and he was going to make every single day count.
Tumblr media
4K notes · View notes
incognit0slut · 4 months ago
Text
Angel
Tumblr media
PART 5 OF KINKTOBER | MAIN MASTERLIST
Single Dad!Spencer x Nanny!Reader Spencer likes having you around to look after his daughter, in fact, he likes you a bit too much.
content: (18+) 5.4k, breeding kink, fingering, fem oral, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, overstimulation, d/s dynamic but he still tries to be a gentleman although reader doesn’t want him to, mutual pining, body worship with slight religious metaphors bc he’s down so bad, and of course sweet aftercare a/n: 1) i know the gif isn’t spencer but i just had to; 2) i changed the title from the original plan bc i was listening to angel baby while writing this; 3) if i have the chance to describe his happy trail and tummy i will in a heartbeat; 4) this fic is basically the epitome of D-I-L-F!
“I want you to understand,” he mutters against your skin, kissing the sensitive spot just below your ear, “that I’m not trying to take advantage of you.”
A hand creeps up the back of his neck. “What if I want you to?”
“I’m serious.”
“I am serious. I’m not the one hesitating.”
His hand glides slowly up your side, fingertips barely ghosting over your skin, and a soft, shaky breath escapes his lips. “I’m trying to be responsible."
“I think we’re past being responsible,” you counter as his fingers trace your waist. “What are you so worried about, anyway? You’re not forcing me into anything.”
“I want to make sure you don’t feel like—” his fingers twitch, lingering over your bare skin, “—like I’m taking advantage of the situation.”
“I’m literally naked under you,” you remind him. “If anyone’s taking advantage here, it’s me.”
His forehead drops to your shoulder, and you feel the slow rise and fall of his chest as he exhales. “You’re making this really hard, you know that?”
“That’s kind of the point.”
And it’s true, Spencer realizes with a rush of heat, because he’s incredibly hard, the heavy length of his cock pressed against your stomach while he braces his weight above you. His lungs tighten, squeezing around breaths that feel too thick to swallow as his teeth graze his lower lip. It takes everything in him to keep from losing himself when his mind is already slipping.
How could he have ever imagined it would go this far?
Spencer can’t quite make sense of how this quiet, unassuming crush that crept in the first time he saw you with his daughter has led to this. It wasn’t anything grand or sudden, just this slow bloom that unfurled every time he caught you reading to Violet or laughing with her over some little joke in the living room. There was just something about the way you slipped so easily into his life, fitting into the spaces he hadn’t realized were empty until you filled them.
He’d never let himself imagine it would go beyond that. He’d convinced himself those feelings for you were just something he’d have to live with quietly, a small ache that would fade with time. But somehow, despite his best efforts to keep it hidden, you’d found your way to him. And against all his expectations, you liked him back. You like him enough that you’re now wearing nothing but a smile.
Flushed skin kissed by the moonlight spilling through the window.
Innocent eyes touched with a hint temptation.
It all feels like some sort of surreal dream.
The moment that led to this replays in his mind, clear as daylight even if it happened well past midnight. He’d gotten home somewhere between too late and way too late, running on nothing but caffeine and sugar, and there you were, leaning casually against the kitchen counter like it was the most natural thing in the world.
You started talking about your day with Violet, recounting how you’d taken her to the park, read her favorite book before bed, and how she’d peppered you with endless questions about why the sky changes colors when the day changes into night. But something was different in your voice, a softness to the way you said his name, and your gaze lingered on him just a beat longer than usual. It wasn’t anything obvious, nothing he could point to and say that’s it, but he felt it. An almost imperceptible shift in the air.
Before he knew it, he had crossed the room and kissed you. He should’ve thought it through or paused to consider the consequences, but the way you responded made it clear you’d been waiting just as long for his attention.
His shoulders fall with a quiet exhale.
“This could get complicated,” he continues, as if reminding you (and maybe himself) that there’s a line between employee and employer that he’s about to cross. A line that could change everything between you both once it’s blurred. “We should think about what this means.”
“We’ve had plenty of time to think. If you wanted to stop, you would’ve done it already.”
“I don’t think you understand what I’m trying to say.”
“Then please enlighten me.”
Instead of answering right away, he leans in, his lips finding the curve of your neck. His breath is warm against your skin, and then he’s gently pulling the tender flesh between his lips that draws a sudden moan from your throat. The sound seems to fuel him, and before you can even register what’s happening, his fingers are already slipping lower, exploring the soft space between your thighs.
“What if I want more than this?” His fingers inch closer, teasingly brushing against your heat with a slowness that borders on torment. “What if I want everything?”
Your hips buck against his hand. “Everything?”
“Everything,” he confirms. “Not just tonight.”
The words send a ripple of electricity that blooms deep in your core. When his fingers finally slip between your folds, a sharp gasp escapes your lips before you can hold it back.
“You
 you mean you want
 more than this? More than just us
 here?”
“Yes,” he replies, his voice catching like gravel in his throat as his fingers trace over the slickness he’s found. “Does that scare you?”
For a moment, words fail you. The slow, coaxing rhythm of his fingers pulls you deeper into a haze where coherent thoughts are hard to grasp. There’s a pause, a heartbeat where he stops. Waiting.
“No,” you confess, the truth slipping out more easily than you expected. “It doesn’t.”
He pulls back just enough to meet your eyes. “It doesn’t?”
Your lungs expand, filling with a rush of oxygen and a nervous flutter that lands somewhere in the pit of your stomach. “I think this is the right time to tell you I’ve had a crush on you for a while.”
Spencer stays motionless for a beat. Then something shifts—his gaze softens, and a small, almost incredulous smile curves his lips. “You have a crush on me?”
“Yeah.”
“As in
 you have feelings for me?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“So you’re not just
 turned on right now?”
“Well, that too,” you admit with a grin, your fingers brushing the back of his neck. “But it’s more than that. I really like you.”
His smile widens, and his fingers begin to move again, circling your clit with just the right pressure to pull a sharp intake of breath from you. It’s as though your confession is a final green light he’d been waiting for. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
Your teeth catch your lip, struggling to hold back fragments of breath. “I thought it was obvious,” you manage between heavy exhales. “Why do you think I always stay late?"
"To avoid traffic?"
You huff. "I tried to be around you as much as possible, Spencer."
His fingers toy at the edge of your entrance, tracing the slick, warm wetness that clings to his skin as a quiet hum rumbles in his chest. “You know I’m not always the best at picking up social cues.”
“You’re a profiler.” Your breath catches halfway between a gasp and a sigh when he slides a finger in. “You're supposed to notice everything."
He lets your words settle, eyes narrowing slightly as he turns them over in his mind.
“I guess I was too focused on trying not to cross any lines to see the ones you were trying to draw."
A soft moan escapes your lips as another finger slides in.
“I'm
 glad you finally caught on."
"I'm catching on now.”
His eyes drop to the way your body greedily takes his fingers. The sight alone sends a rush of heat straight to his gut like a line of fire winding up through his chest and spreading into his limbs. You’re dripping, the slick sound of your arousal nearly derails him as he continues to watch the wetness coat his fingers with every slow thrust.
“Since when have you had this crush?” He asks curiously.
There’s a beat of silence, only punctuated by the soft, breathy noises escaping you. When he finally looks up, he catches the way your face scrunches in pleasure, brows furrowed and eyes barely open, and he can’t help but find it almost unbearably adorable. The corners of his lips twitch with a quiet laugh before he leans in, pressing the softest it’s okay, you can tell me kiss against your lips.
“Since when?”
You blink your eyes open at his question, and there’s a flush of embarrassment in your cheeks.
“Since—” you start, but your voice catches when he curls his fingers slightly, and you bite down on your lip to keep from moaning. He raises an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a barely-contained grin.
“Since?” he prompts again.
You swallow the lump tightening in your throat. “Since you interviewed me for the job."
He absorbs your words. "That’s
 more than a while."
"It was innocent at the time," you confess, trying to regain some control over your thoughts. "Just a silly little crush."
His pace quickens, fingers plunging deeper, and whatever sense of composure you had left is slipping away piece by piece. “What changed?”
Desperation claws at you with every passing second, your hips moving against his hand as you scramble to gather your thoughts. But the way his fingers are mapping every sensitive spot makes it nearly impossible to articulate anything coherent. He doesn’t miss the way your breath stutters, or how your words break apart into fragmented attempts to answer.
“I-I—” you stammer, wincing as the words catch in your throat before you finally manage to continue, “I probably shouldn’t say
”
“Why not?”
“It’s embarrassing."
He lets out a soft laugh. “Tell me anyway,” he urges. “I want to hear it.”
You fall quiet again, and the only sounds that fill the space between you is the ragged pull of your breaths and the slick rhythm of his fingers pumping lazily inside you. The words sit heavy on your tongue, threatening to disappear if you don’t say them quickly enough.
"Remember when
 you taught Violet how to
 ride her bike?”
He tilts his head slightly. There’s a furrow in his brow as he searches your face. “You’re going to have to be more specific, there were a lot of lessons.”
“The very first time.”
“Ah,” he muses. “Around June, then.”
You nod. “When I
 saw you with her that day, I-I
 I got curious.”
His fingers falter, just slightly, the subtle pause enough to show that you’ve grabbed his attention. “Curious?”
“Yeah,” you whisper. “You were so adorable with her
 and I started thinking about what it would be like
 to have your kids.”
If there was ever a moment to leave him utterly speechless, this was it. His brain seems to stall, the gears grinding to a halt as the reality of what you’ve said settles in. He’s spent so much time trying to be the one holding it all together, but now? Now all he could picture was you holding a baby—his baby—and the thought sent his mind reeling, knocking him off balance in a way he didn’t expect.
“You
 thought about that?”
Your fingers trails his shoulder before slipping up into his hair, curling gently at the nape of his neck. “It crossed my mind more than once.”
“That’s—” wow. He leans his forehead against yours. “Not embarrassing. At all.”
“Really?”
“That’s probably the hottest thing I've ever heard in my life.”
You let out a soft chuckle, gently pulling on his curls before drawing his bottom lip into a gentle suck. “It’s never been innocent since then.”
Goosebumps rises along his skin, and the heat pooling low in his stomach tightens as he grows impossibly harder. “Yeah?”
“I’ve wanted you to fuck me for a long time.”
His jaw clenches.
He’s so close to completely losing it.
“You shouldn’t say things like that,” he mutters, pressing his fingers deeper inside you.
“Why.. why not?”
“Because I might give you exactly what you want.” When he feels you clench around him, he huffs in amusement. “Oh, you like that, don’t you?”
There’s a tender spot he finds deep inside, one that feels achingly sensitive, and your mouth falls open, a soundless gasp escaping before you can catch it.
“You really mean it,” he says, more a realization than a question, as he watches your body go pliant beneath his touch.
“I do,” you manage to say.
“You want me that way?”
You nod frantically. “Want your cum in me.”
The second those words leave your lips, his groan rumbles through his chest, and you swallow it down as his mouth crashes into yours. The kiss is messy, teeth clashing and tongues tangling in a chaotic rhythm that’s both desperate and needy. When he finally pulls away, you’re left panting, your lips swollen, his forehead resting against yours.
“Never would’ve guessed you had such a dirty mouth."
"There's a lot of thing you don't know about me."
His breath brushes against your lips as he whispers, “I’m starting to figure that out.”
When he slowly withdraws his fingers, you can’t help the soft whimper that escapes your throat. Your eyes follow his every move as he sits up and settles between your thighs. You’ve always thought Spencer was an attractive man, and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t admired the way his shirts fit just snug enough to hint at what was underneath. But seeing him naked like this? That was a whole new level of breathtaking.
Your gaze trails down his frame, landing on the soft curve of his stomach, something you'd secretly adored every time it pressed against his dress shirts. It was even more captivating without anything hiding it now, especially with the trail of dark hair leading down. Soft, scattered strands, drawing your eyes right to the place where you can’t help but stare.
He gives himself a slow pump. Once. Twice. And then, finally, you feel the firm pressure of his tip pressing between your folds.
“Are you sure?” he asks, the head of his cock sliding over your sensitive skin. “There's a condom in my drawer."
Your body tenses at the thought of him pulling back, and without thinking, your hand reaches between the two of you, wrapping around his cock before he can pull away. “When was the last time you got tested?”
He exhales sharply. “A few months ago,” he mutters, hips twitching against your grip despite himself. “If there was any risk, I wouldn’t even consider this without telling you.”
“I got tested last month,” you assure him quickly. “We’re both safe.”
He nods absentmindedly. “We can
 still grab the condom if you want
”
“Spencer,” you interrupt, gently brushing the bead of precum that had formed at his tip. “I thought I made it clear I want you to cum inside me.”
He can only stare as your delicate finger trails along the thick vein. It feels like all the oxygen he’s desperately clinging to has been sucked from his lungs.
“I know you said you don’t want to take advantage of me
” you continue, guiding him right to your entrance. “But I really want you to.”
He finally lets out a low, gruff sound, something between a growl and a sigh as he slowly pushes himself in. His eyes are locked on the sight of your walls stretching to accommodate his size, watching as your body struggles to take him.
"You should stop talking like that," he rasps through gritted teeth. "I’m barely holding it together."
"Here's another thing you should know about me.”
He ruts gently into you. A push. A pull.
A heartbeat in between.
“I really like it rough."
That’s all it takes.
He slams his hips into yours.
Intense doesn’t even begin to describe what he feels. It’s more like a surge, a rush of heat and desperation that floods every inch of him the same time you cry out. His throat tightens, constricting around breaths he can’t seem to catch as he resorts to inhaling sharply through his nose.
“Jesus
 you feel so—” His words falter, his voice rough and breathless as his fingers figs into your skin. His chest rises and falls with each labored breaths, and his eyes squeezes shut for a moment.
Tight. Warm. Wet. That’s exactly how you feel.
"Perfect." His large hands grips your waist. “You’re perfect.”
You mewl at his words, the sound spilling from your lips before you can stop it, and the soft, needy noise is enough to make his eyes flicker open. He begins to pull back, just enough to make you whimper from the sudden loss of contact, but before you can catch your breath, he snaps his hips forward with a rough, powerful thrust.
Your hands fly to his arms, holding onto him tightly. "Spencer
 Please
”
He lets out a sigh.
No man is immune to that tone of desperation, least of all Spencer. Not when you’re offering yourself to him like something out of a dream. Not when your eyes lock onto his with a look that belongs more to an angel—if angels could be so helpless and desperate. Because what angel pleads with every breath for more?
What angel cries out as he holds your hips firmly in place and thrusts with a force that drives you to the brink of sanity?
He’s mesmerized. His eyes track the way your breasts bounce with each snap of his hips. There’s something almost greedy in the way his gaze roams over you, but it’s when he locks onto where your bodies meet that he really loses himself. A glossy ring coats his cock each time he pulls out, and when he pushes back in, the friction between your bodies creates a lewd, wet sound that fills the room.
He laughs. Not out of mockery, but out of sheer delight.
You’re an angel wrapped in sin.
“I can’t—oh god, right there—” Your nails leave little crescents moon on his skin. “You’re so
 so deep.”
You’re really testing his limits, and Spencer knows he’s very far from a violent man, but right now, the temptation to cover your mouth with his hand is becoming dangerously real. Although with the way you’re writhing beneath him, rolling your hips to meet his thrusts, he’s sure you’d probably enjoy it.
“Spencer
”
His balls slaps your ass as he slams into you.
“O-Oh—fuck, I’m gonna cum.”
He squeezes your waist tightly. “Already?”
“Ngh.”
Your grip loosens on his arm, and before he can fully process what’s happening, your fingers dance along your clit. It takes all his willpower not to spill into you right then and there when he feels you tighten around him in response. But he holds on, because he needs you to cum first. He needs to feel your velvety walls flutter along the rigid veins of his cock, needs to watch the way your body tenses with pleasure.
He needs to feel it more than once.
He lets you have your first orgasm. Although letting seems like the wrong word. There’s nothing passive about it. He’s making you cum, driving you to it with each calculated thrust. You’re toying with your clit, rubbing in frantic circles just like you do whenever you touch yourself with the thought of him, but this time, it’s even more intense. This time, he’s inside you. And this time, it takes only a few moments for the tension to snap.
You clamp down on him. Hard. So hard that his movement falters for a second, but he quickly recovers, thrusting into you with a relentless rhythm. Just as you start to catch your breath, he pulls out, and you’re left in that delicious, dizzy haze, but your mind is even more disoriented when his face suddenly lowers between your thighs.
“Oh, you’re gonna—” you moan as his shoulders nudge your legs apart, opening you wider for him. “Spencer, you don’t have to—”
Before you can finish, before you even take another breath, the tip of his tongue flicks out.
“I want to.”
And he means it. He dives in with a hunger that leaves no room for doubt. His tongue starts firm and flat, pressing against you before dragging slowly upward, gathering your slickness in one deliberate sweep. Then he changes rhythm, the broad strokes shifting into something more focused, alternating between gentle flicks and deep, hungry pulls, and it’s doing things to you that no amount of late-night fantasies could have prepared you for.
Your head is all over the place that you reach out blindly, trying to find something solid, but the air merely glides over your skin. You stretch for the edge of the bed, fingertips just skimming the surface before your arms flail helplessly in the empty space. He notices your struggle almost immediately, and without missing a beat, he pulls back, lifting your legs to rest on his shoulders.
“Here,” he says, reaching out his arms toward you. “Give me your hands.”
Gladly. The second your fingers lock with his, a sense of grounding floods you, though it does nothing to ease the intensity of what he’s doing. If anything, it sharpens. You can feel the muscles in his shoulders flex under your thighs as he positions himself. And sure, your legs somehow feel weightless, like they’re floating in the air, but the rest of you?
You’re a mess of nerve endings on fire.
It’s impossible to think clearly when every cell in your body is buzzing. Your thoughts scatter the second his mouth moves in that devastating way, driving you out of your mind. You try to hold on to some semblance of control, but who are you kidding? He has officially turned you into a puddle of desperate, needy nerves, and you don’t even care.
It doesn’t take long before that coil snaps, and when it does, your entire body trembles. It’s always the second orgasm. The first is a tease, a little warm-up. The second one is the worst—or the best, depending on how you look at it. It doesn’t just tug at your edges, it tears right through, leaving you gasping and shaking and completely undone like every part of you has been pulled apart and put back together very wrong.
His mouth is glazed with your slick when he finally pulls away. “Good?”
You can barely feel your legs.
“Speechless,” is your answer.
His nose twitches in amusement as his hand leaves yours only for them to slide down your body, gently coaxing your legs to wrap around his waist. “Continue?”
“Please.”
A palm slips down your thigh. “Did you mean what you said earlier?”
You swipe your tongue across your bottom lip as he hovers above you. “About what?”
“About taking advantage of you.”
You huff out a sigh. “I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it.”
“Say it again,” he urges, guiding his cock smoothly along your folds before your whines travel into his ears. Ah, there it is. This is the sound that would greet him in heaven, if such a place existed for someone like him. Men who’ve taken lives to save others. Men who carry too many regrets to count. Spencer knows he’s not the kind of person heaven was built for, but if it were, he’s certain it would sound exactly like the breathy moan that escapes your lips.
And he’s tasted the afterlife, once, when he was younger—drifting somewhere between consciousness and oblivion with a ghost of a needle stuck in his arm. But nothing about that brush with death was like this. This feels like he’s been pulled back into something he didn’t believe he deserved.
“Say it again.”
He’s pleading now. It sounds awfully like a prayer.
“I want you to take advantage of me,” you say, the words spilling from your lips like a soft, sinful confession, music to his ears. An angel. “I want all of it.”
He takes your hands again. “So you won’t be mad if I get a little rough?”
“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”
That’s all he needs. He gently pushes your hands above your head, pinning them to the mattress, his fingers lacing through yours as his weight presses you into the bed. There’s a sudden rush—like a switch has flipped that it knocks the breath out of you. Your heart skips a beat, but not from nerves. No, this is anticipation, excitement.
You test his hold on you, just to see what happens, but his grip stays firm, almost daring you to resist.
“You asked for this,” he warns as he shifts his hips, aligning himself right to your entrance.
You shake your head. “I begged for this.”
He laughs, a flash of teeth in the dim light. “Yeah,” he breathes, his grip tightening as he presses deeper, “you did.”
A breathless whine escapes your lips as he fills you.
Angel, angel, angel.
He looks at you with a kind of reverence that borders on worship, though his movements are anything but saintly. There’s nothing gentle or innocent about the way he’s taking you, and there’s a quiet madness in the way you respond. Making love would be too tame, too soft for what this is. But fucking seems too crude, too disconnected for the way your eyes meet his, for the way you say his name like a prayer and a demand all at once.
The moment your voice breaks, breathless and needy, something inside him snaps. He feels the tightness coiling in his gut, and once it starts, there’s no stopping it. The pressure is mounting, and with every hard thrust it becomes harder to hold back. He knows he should slow down, give you a moment to catch your breath, but he can’t—his body won’t let him.
His fingers tighten around yours. He’s moving with a single-minded intensity now, pushing you flat against the mattress, your body pliant beneath him. The bed creaks every time he moves and your legs wrap tighter around his hips as you squeeze your eyes shut.
Spencer leans down, brushing his lips against yours, so close but never quite closing the distance, like even the simplest kiss would shatter him too soon. Instead, he rests his forehead on top of yours and whispers, “l’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” over and over, like he’s stuck on some endless loop. It’s not a real apology, not for anything he’s done, but for how much he needs you and how he’s afraid of breaking you with how much he can’t hold back.
He’s so close and he knows he’s not going to last much longer.
“I’m—” He groans as he feels the tension in his body snap, the wave building up in his spine and crashing down with brutal intensity. “I—fuck—I can’t hold it—”
You’re barely coherent yourself, but your voice comes out strong. A little breathless.
“Inside,” you gasp, your legs tightening around his waist. “I want it inside.”
Your words push him over the edge. He shudders, hips stuttering as he buries himself as deep as he can the moment the last thread of his restraint snaps. He can feel it, the way he pulses inside you, filling you completely. Every thrust is accompanied by a harsh groan as his release paints your walls, and the sound of your soft, desperate whines only pushes him deeper into the overwhelming pleasure.
When it finally becomes too much, he carefully pulls out. But the intensity is still coursing through his veins, and he’s too addicted to the sound of your sound, too drawn to the way your body trembles beneath him.
His hand drifts from your wrist almost on instinct, tracing its way down between your legs. He doesn’t need to see the mess he’s made—he can feel it. There’s a fleeting moment where he pauses, almost in awe, before his fingers brush over your clit, and your hips jerk in response. He’s not even sure if he’s teasing you or himself at this point, but he’s too far gone to care.
He slides two fingers inside you.
Your back arches instantly, your nipples brushing against his chest, and you gasp, fully aware of what he’s trying to do. “Oh
 I—I can’t
”
He shakes his head. “You can,” he reassures you, watching in fascination as he pushes the white liquid of his release deeper into you. His gaze snaps back to yours. “I think you can give me one more.”
Your body trembles, and you can’t hold back the soft, broken cry that escapes your lips.
“Spencer
”
He loosens his grip on your hand, guiding it gently to rest around his neck. “Please,” he begs, his lips brushing your skin, “for me?”
The way he says it makes it impossible for you to deny him. And he knows it. He feels it in the way your nails dig into the back of his neck, pulling him closer as the tension inside you builds again. His fingers work faster, more desperate now, curling inside you just the way you like.
He’s watching, waiting, and when you finally cum again, it’s like witnessing something so divine. Your body shakes beneath him, a violent, beautiful quake that feels like it’s pulling him into its orbit. He’s unable to tear his eyes away as your head tilts back, lips parting with a choked moan that’s as delicate as it is devastating like an angel’s breath caught on the edge of rapture.
If angels looked this breathtaking in heaven, no wonder people were willing to risk damnation.
Spencer smiles wryly to himself.
Since when did he become so religious?
Another strangled moan escapes your lips. When your orgasm finally subsides, your chest heaves as you try to catch your breath, and with what little strength you have left, you reach up and yank weakly at his mop of brown curls.
“
no more.”
He smiles softly, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your temple. “No more,” he agrees, pulling his fingers from you carefully.
Without saying a word, he slips off the bed and disappears from the room, only to come back with a damp towel in his hand. You expect him to hand it over to you, but you’re surprised when he kneels at the edge of the bed, gently spreading your legs apart.
Your skin tingles under his gaze as he stares at the mess between your thighs.
“That was
” he starts as he begins to wipe the towel over you. “
very reckless of us.”
With a small, tired smile, you mutter, “You don’t seem too bothered by it.”
He glances up at you. “I’m not,” he admits, finishing his cleanup and setting the towel aside. “But that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t at least pretend to be responsible.”
You reach for him as he climbs back into bed. “Would it make you feel better if I told you I’m on birth control?”
He exhales a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding, his body visibly relaxing as he lets out a quiet laugh. “It definitely helps,” he says, tucking you under his chin, “but I’m still going to try to be more careful next time.”
Your grin is as wide as the warmth spreading through your chest. “Next time?”
He smiles softly. “I meant what I said earlier.”
“Which part? You said a lot of things.”
“You know what I mean,” he insists.
“I know. But I want to hear it again.”
The tip of his nose brushes yours. “I want everything.”
“Everything?”
“Every single part of you.”
You take a deep breath. A whiff of his sweat and the faintest trace of soap clings around your senses until you release a happy sigh. “Do you think Violet will be okay with this? With us?”
His hand slips to the back of your neck, fingers threading through your hair as he tilts his head to look at you. “She already loves you,” he reassures you. “She’s more adaptable than you think. And she trusts you.”
“But... what if it changes things for her?”
“It will change things,” he admits. “But all the changes will be good ones."
You mull over his words. “You think so?”
“I know so, because you make her happy. You make both of us happy, an—”
He stops, his lips just barely parted as he catches himself.
He almost said it. He almost called you angel.
“What?”
He shakes his head slightly, a faint embarrassed smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"I’m just really happy,” he explains, his fingers absentmindedly brushing a stray lock of hair away from your face. There’s a curious look in your eyes, but instead of pressing him, you bury yourself into his neck, which he’s quietly grateful for because he’s not sure he could have explained himself without sounding like a total sap.
And maybe he is a sap, but even he’s aware that words like that shouldn’t be thrown around too soon, especially after just one night. Not before things settle in, before everything feels a little less like a dream and more like reality.
But he thinks about it. Oh, he thinks about it. The word stubbornly lingers at the edge of his mind he’s keeping for another time. He imagines letting it slip on some quiet morning, when you’re half-asleep and bundled in his shirt, golden sunlight filtering through the window to cast a warm glow across your skin. Or maybe when you meet him at the door after a long day, and Violet runs up, chattering away while you smile at him with that look that feels like coming home.
He can picture it falling easily from his lips someday, maybe even in a future where you’re holding the baby you had wondered about having with him and he’s standing there, watching you like someone who can’t quite believe his luck.
He’ll say it with a kind of certainty then. Not as a prayer, not as some lofty declaration of divine grace.
And when that moment comes, without hesitation, he’ll finally call you his angel.
4K notes · View notes