Don't request: m/m, three*some, any weird thing, gore, ab*sive behaviors, age difference, anything related to animals, cheating, necro*philia, mommy or daddy k*nk, blood related anything
I don't write anything pedophilic like teen Sam or any incest at all!!
I only write x reader but I have an OC "Ariel from The Halo's Shadow"
Tags: Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Rough S*x, Nightmares, PTSD, Dom/Post-Prison Spencer Reid, Multiple Orgasms, Cunnilingus, Hurt/Comfort, Heavy Angst, Heavy Smut, Aftercare
Read it on AO3 | Post Prison Spencer Reid x Reader
Word Count: 9.2
Masterlist | Please Comment and reblog if you liked it <3
Spencer brought the prison yard back home with him, locked behind his ribs like an unwanted ghost that refuses to leave the apartment. Waking up to his own hands holding your neck down shatters the fragile peace he spent so long trying to rebuild, driving an immediate wedge of self loathing between his chest and yours. He isolates himself to keep you safe from what he has become, leaving you to break through the wall he's built in the dark and ground him back in reality.
The steady relentless drumming of the late June rain against the bedroom windowpane was the only sound anchoring the small apartment against the suffocating darkness of the night. It was a heavy rhythmic downpour, a solid wall of water that seemed to cut the two of you off from the rest of the world.
The storm masked the distant comforting hum of city traffic, wrapping the room in a thick, almost claustrophobic silence that felt heavy enough to breathe.
The blue flickering shadows of the lightning danced across the far walls, casting long skeletal shapes over the heavy down comforter and the two bodies tangled beneath it. Every few minutes, a low rumble of thunder would vibrate through the floorboards, a quiet tremor that passed through the mattress and settled deep into the quiet atmosphere of the room.
You lay perfectly still on your side, your eyes fully adjusted to the dimness, tracking the soft shallow rise and fall of Spencer’s chest.
Since he had returned home from the prison, true silence in this apartment was a rarity, an elusive luxury you both chased but rarely caught. Usually, his sleep was a fractured violent thing, a chaotic sequence of sudden jerks, muttered statistics and breathless gasps that would drag him awake in the dead of night, his heart hammering a frantic terrifying rhythm against your palms.
You had grown used to the way he would wake up drenched in a cold sweat, his hazel eyes wide and unseeing in the dark, searching the corners of the ceiling for guards or inmates that weren't there.
It had become your routine to hold him through those tremors, whispering his name like a mantra until his breathing leveled out and the ghosts of the cell block retreated back into the shadows of his mind.
Tonight he seemed deceptively peaceful, the harsh defensive walls he carried around during the day like a protective armor had softened slightly into the mattress. In the pale watery light of the storm, his handsome features looked younger, almost fragile, stripped of the heavy processing analytical mask he wore at the bureau.
The sharp tension that usually held his mouth in a tight guarded line had eased, his lips slightly parted as he drew in deep steady breaths yet even in the deepest depths of rest, the trauma of the past year lingered like a phantom weight, an unspoken presence that refused to leave the room.
You reached out, your fingertips hovering just millimeters away from his skin, mapping the sharp prominent line of his jaw and the faint permanent furrow between his brows that even sleep couldn't fully erase.
His broad shoulders -once relaxed and loose- were set with a faint rigid tension under the thin white cotton of his shirt, his muscles were tightly wound, his fingers curled into loose fists against the sheets as if his body was still subconsciously waiting for a klaxon to wail, a whistle to blow or a heavy iron door to slam shut.
It was a physical manifestation of a survival instinct that had been beaten into him, a reminder that while his body was free, a part of his mind was still locked behind those towering concrete walls.
A quiet aching tenderness swelled in your chest, a mixture of profound love and a fierce protective sorrow that often hit you when you watched him like this. Slowly and carefully, not to startle him, you closed the remaining distance between you.
You slid your body across the mattress until the warmth of your bare thighs pressed against his leg under the covers, offering a grounded real world anchor. You looped an arm over his waist, your hand resting gently over the steady comforting beat of his heart.
Pressing your nose into the crook of his neck, you inhaled deeply, filling your senses with his familiar comforting scent, a rich mix of old book pages, cedarwood and the clean distinct heat of his skin.
You let out a long quiet breath against his collarbone, letting your eyelids drop as his radiating warmth began to heavy your limbs. You finally allowed yourself to drift off into the dark secure in the cozy dangerous belief that the worst of his nightmares were behind him and that tonight, he was finally safe in your arms.
Deep beneath the surface of his skin, behind the quiet facade of his resting features, Spencer’s mind was drowning in a sensory overload of concrete, iron and blood.
In the dark twisted abyss of his subconscious, the gentle rhythmic patter of the rain outside the window transformed, bleeding into the deafening metallic echo of heavy cell doors slamming shut in a synchronized mocking cadence.
The sound vibrated through his skull, loud and real enough to make his ears ring, the air in his lungs grew thick, hot and stagnant, instantly reeking of harsh industrial bleach, stale sweat and the sharp unmistakable copper tang of dried blood.
He was back in the yard, the towering gray walls closed in on him from all sides, blotting out the sky, trapping him in a visual prison of shadow and stone.
The distant distorted shouting of correctional officers ordering inmates to the fence bled into the low predatory murmurs of the men circling him, their heavy boots scraping against the gravel in a terrifyingly familiar rhythm.
He could hear the clinking of chains, the heavy thud of a nightstick hitting a ribcage and the desperate breathless gasps of someone fighting for their life in a blind spot.
Suddenly, the dream fractured, the ambient noise cutting out into a dead hyper focused silence, a dark faceless silhouette lunged out of the shadow of the watchtower, moving with a blinding lethal speed straight toward his blind spot.
The glint of a homemade shank cut through the darkness, aimed directly for his throat. He tried to move, tried to calculate an escape route but his spine collided heavily with the cold unyielding chain link fence.
His escape routes were entirely cut off, his back pressed against the wire, the metal digging into his shoulder blades as the weapon came closer and closer.
In the real world, the hyper vigilant survival instincts that had been ruthlessly carved into Spencer's DNA during his time inside completely hijacked his physical form, bypassing his conscious mind entirely.
His eyes flew wide open in the dark room but they weren't the soft warm hazel eyes that looked at you with adoration over morning coffee or crinkled at the corners when he smiled, they were completely blank, unseeing and wild with a primal territorial panic.
Before a single breath could leave your lungs, his body moved with a terrifying speed that you had never seen in him before. With a sharp violent surge of raw strength, Spencer flipped your entire body onto your back.
The sudden brutal displacement knocked the wind right out of your lungs, your spine colliding heavily with the mattress as his massive heavy frame pinned you flat beneath him like an immovable mountain.
You didn't even have a split second to register the shock, let alone scream before his right hand snapped upward.
His fingers fisted ruthlessly into the roots of your hair at the nape of your neck, his grip tightening like an iron clamp, his knuckles digging into your scalp as he violently yanked your head back, forcing your chin up and exposing the delicate pulsing line of your throat to the cold air of the room.
At the exact same millisecond, his left hand crashed down over your wrists, gathering them together and pinning both of your arms above your head against the pillow, his grip a bruising crushing force that felt like steel manacles locking around your skin, cutting off your circulation and trapping you completely.
"Spencer!" You gasped, the sound choking into a broken wheeze in your throat as the sheer suffocating weight of his chest crushed down on your ribs, making it physically impossible for your lungs to expand.
You thrashed beneath him in total blind shock, your legs kicking instinctively against the heavy down comforter, trying to slide your hips out from under his locked heavy thighs but he was completely unyielding.
He didn't budge a single millimeter, his knees anchoring your lower body into the mattress while his upper body held you in a vice grip. He leaned down lower, his face hovering just inches from yours, his jaw set so hard the muscle in his cheek was violently ticking.
His breathing was coming in ragged animalistic snarls, his chest heaving wildly against your bare skin. He was looking straight through you, his pupils completely blown out and dark, staring at a ghost from the yard that wasn't there.
To his traumatized brain, your frantic struggles weren't the movements of the person he loved, they were the desperate lethal lunges of an inmate trying to take his life in the dark and his body was operating on pure unadulterated survival.
Panic, cold, sharp and overwhelming flooded your veins, replacing the peaceful afterglow of sleep with a terrifying adrenaline rush.
Your heart hammered a frantic erratic rhythm against your ribs, a wild thumping that you were certain he could feel through his chest as you looked up into the eyes of the stranger hovering over you.
The man above you had Spencer's face, Spencer's broad chest and Spencer's scent, but the spirit behind those eyes was entirely feral, locked away in a violent memory that you had no access to.
"Spencer! Please!" You cried out, your voice breaking into a raw frightened whimper as his fingers dug even deeper into the meat of your wrists, the pressure beginning to throb with a dull dangerous ache that made your bones protest.
The grip on your hair was so tight it brought tears to your eyes, the skin of your neck stretched taut, leaving you completely vulnerable beneath him.
You could feel the heat radiating off his body, a burning feverish warmth that felt entirely different from the comforting heat you had snuggled into just an hour ago.
He was rigid, his muscles locked like stone, every line of his body vibrating with the readiness to inflict violence to save himself.
You twisted your right hand violently, ignoring the sharp stinging friction of his skin against yours, refusing to let the paralyzing fear keep you still. Through a surge of pure desperate adrenaline, you managed to slide your hand through the gap of his fingers, wrenching your wrist free from his iron grip.
You didn't try to strike him and you didn't try to push him away, knowing that any aggressive movement would only confirm his delusion and make his survival instincts push harder, instead you brought your palm up, slapping it flat against his burning sweat slick cheek.
Your fingers cupped his jawline with as much force as you could muster, your thumb pressing firmly into his skin to anchor him to the present.
"Spencer! Spencer look at me! Look at my face, it's me!" You shouted into the dark, your voice a frantic commanding sob that cut sharply through the heavy silence of the bedroom and the drumming of the rain. "You're home! Spencer, look at my eyes! You're safe, you're in our bed! It's me!"
The sound of his own name, delivered not with the anger of a guard or the malice of an inmate but with the desperate terrified love of your voice seemed to bounce off the walls and strike something deep within his locked down consciousness. It was a frequency his trauma couldn't block out.
The terrifying blank veil in his hazel eyes suddenly shattered like brittle glass. He blinked once, twice, his focus violently shifting as the dark suffocating illusion of the prison yard evaporated into the thin air of the room.
The cold concrete walls vanished and the familiar contours of his own bedroom, the soft sheets and the blue light of the storm rushed back into his brain. His gaze focused, dropping down to finally take in the scene directly beneath him.
The realization hit him like a physical bone shattering collision.
He saw his own hand tangled violently in your hair, bending your neck at a painful unnatural angle. He saw his other hand bruising your left wrist against the pillow, his fingers clamped around you like a weapon.
He felt the frantic terrified trembling of your body beneath his weight, the way your chest was heaving for the air he was denying you and he saw the tears of pure shock leaking out of the corners of your eyes, tracking down into your hair.
The possessive defensive wall inside him dropped into an abyss of absolute sickening horror.
Spencer recoiled as if he had just touched a live electrical wire. He let go of your hair and your wrists instantly, a sharp strangled gasp ripping from his throat.
He scrambled backward across the mattress with a desperate frantic urgency, his long limbs tangling in the heavy down comforter as he practically threw his own body away from yours. He didn't stop until his spine collided heavily with the wooden headboard at the absolute furthest corner of the bed, his knees pulling tightly up into his chest as if he was trying to make himself as small as physically possible.
His chest heaved, a raw choked sob tearing out of his throat, the sound incredibly ugly, broken and hollow in the quiet room. He looked down at his own hands, his fingers trembling so violently he could barely hold them together.
He stared at his palms with total disgust, horror and a mounting unadulterated panic, seeing the faint immediate red marks his fingers had just left on your pale skin, the physical evidence of his own capability to hurt you.
"I'm… it's…" he stuttered, his voice a fractured breathy thread that sounded completely unraveled. He tucked his hands against his chest, folding them into his armpits as if trying to hide them from view, his face twisting in an expression of pure devastated self loathing. "I'm so sorry... baby I'm so sorry… I didn't mean to... I thought... I thought I was back inside... I thought they found me... I didn't mean to put my hands on you… I swear I didn't."
He didn't even look up at you, his head dropping heavily between his knees as another violent sob shook his entire frame, his broad shoulders trembling under his shirt.
He was hyperventilating now, his words tumbling out in a frantic unorganized stammer, the statistics and facts he usually used to calm himself completely useless against the raw agony of his guilt.
"Please don't look at me like that... please baby… I'm so sorry... so fuckin sorry... I almost hurt you... I almost killed you... I put my hands on you..."
Your own heart was still racing, the adrenaline slowly fading into a heavy aching sorrow as you watched him completely fall apart in the corner of the bed. The fear you had felt a moment ago evaporated entirely, replaced by a desperate maternal need to soothe the agonizing fracture in his mind and pull him back from the ledge of his own guilt.
You sat up slowly, your body aching slightly from the rough positioning but you ignored it, keeping your eyes locked on his shaking form. You slowly began to shift your weight, dragging your body across the mattress toward him, making sure your movements were loud and clear so you wouldn't startle him again.
"Spencer... it's okay," you whispered softly, your voice steady and sweet despite the tremor in your chest. You reached your hand out through the dark, stretching it across the space between you to touch his knee. "It was just a nightmare baby… I'm okay! Look at me, I'm right here… you didn't hurt me."
The moment your fingertips brushed the soft fabric of his sweatpants, Spencer flinched away violently, drawing his legs even tighter against his chest, twisting his body into the corner to avoid your touch as if your skin was burning iron.
"No! Don't... don't touch me!" He cried out, his voice cracking into a panicked defensive yelp that cut you like a knife. He pulled himself away until he was practically pressed into the drywall, his eyes wide and wild, staring at you with a terrifying new realization. "Don't come near me… please… I... I can't… I'm not safe… you saw what I just did… I'm not safe for you."
You froze, your hand hovering in the empty air between you, the coldness of the separation striking you right in the center of your chest. The distance between you was only a few feet of mattress but it felt like an uncrossable canyon.
Spencer wrapped his long arms around his knees, burying his face entirely in his shins, his shoulders shaking in the dark as the rain continued to slam ruthlessly against the windowpane. He completely closed himself off from you, refusing to look at your face, refusing to breathe the same air.
The heavy sickening realization setting in deep within his bones that the prison had changed him into something fundamentally broken, something feral, something dangerous.
The silence that settled over the bedroom was no longer peaceful, it was a thick unyielding wall built entirely out of his own suffocating guilt and the terrifying knowledge that he had become too dangerous to touch the only person he loved.
He stayed there, a silent weeping silhouette in the dark and as you slowly pulled your hand back to your chest.
You realized that the ghost of that prison cell had finally found a way inside your home and it was threatening to tear Spencer away from you entirely.
*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻
The progression from late spring to early June usually brought a vibrant warmth to the city, but inside the four walls of the apartment, the atmosphere had plunged into a permanent suffocating winter.
A full week had dragged by since the night the bedroom walls had dissolved into a phantom prison yard, and with every passing day, the frost between you and Spencer had only thickened, hardening into a barrier that felt entirely impossible to breach.
The most glaring monument to this self imposed exile was the living room couch, the heavy wool blanket you had thrown over the back of it months ago was now permanently unfurled, its edges creased from seven consecutive nights of Spencer burying his long frame into the narrow cushions.
Leaving the bedroom behind each evening, he left your shared bed feeling massive, cold and entirely hollow.
You would lie awake for hours on your side, staring at the untouched pristine expanse of the mattress beside you, the distant muffled creaks of the sofa springs in the next room, a constant painful reminder of the canyon he was widening between you.
During the daylight hours, Spencer had turned the concept of physical boundaries into a clinical science. When you passed him his morning coffee mug, your fingers accidentally brushed against his knuckles for a mere fraction of a second. The reaction was instantaneous and devastating.
Spencer flinched violently, his hand jerking back as if the skin of your fingertips was a searing hot iron. He nearly dropped the ceramic mug, his grip tightening around the handle until his knuckles turned a bloodless white.
"Sorry," he muttered, the word clipped, low and entirely devoid of its usual melodic honey. He didn't look up, his voice sounding like it was being forced through a tight restricted throat. "I’m sorry, just... clumsy."
He wouldn't look you in the eye, not when you asked him how he slept, not when you tried to strike up a conversation about a book he was reading, and certainly not when you were in the same room.
He hid behind his work with a desperate manic intensity as the dining room table had been completely swallowed by a chaotic mountain of closed case files, psychological profiles and behavioral assessments.
Spencer sat there for hours on end, his posture stiff, rigid and completely guarded, his broad shoulders hunched over the paperwork like a shield designed to keep you out.
He looked entirely exhausted, a shell of the man who had crawled into bed with you a week ago. The dark violet circles bruised into the delicate skin beneath his eyes had grown deep and hollow, casting gaunt shadows over his cheekbones.
His hair was a wild unkempt mess, the curls tangled from the restless hours he spent tossing and turning on the couch.
You knew him well enough to calculate the math he was running in his head, every hour he stayed awake was an hour he couldn't have an episode, every cup of black coffee he forced down his throat was a preventative measure against his own subconscious.
He was starving his body of rest because he genuinely believed that the moment his eyelids closed, he became a lethal weapon, a monster waiting to snap in the dark.
You would watch him from the doorway of the living room, watching the manic frantic way his fingers gripped his pen, the way his breath would occasionally catch in a ragged hitch if you moved too quickly or made a sudden sound.
He was jumping at his own shadow, hyper vigilant and entirely wound tight, a ticking time bomb of repressed trauma and self loathing.
The complete deprivation of his touch was making your skin feel hyper sensitive, a restless aching hunger settling into your bones.
You missed the heavy grounding weight of his hands on your waist, the possessive deep rumbles of his voice against your ear when he was relaxed, and the absolute safety of being held so tightly against his chest that there wasn't a whisper of space between you.
Now you were living with a beautiful tragic stranger who looked through you, around you, anywhere but at you, treating you like a fragile piece of glass he was terrified of shattering if he breathed too hard.
The silence in the apartment was becoming completely unlivable, the pressure in the rooms building to a dangerous suffocating peak as the late night hours began to roll in once again.
The clock on the nightstand ticked past midnight, its steady clinical rhythm counting down the final agonizing moments of another day lost to the ice.
In the dim ambient shadows of the bedroom, the atmosphere felt impossibly thick, charged with a heavy lingering silence that had been building for seven straight days. It was a pressure cooker of unspoken words and repressed grief.
You sat on the edge of the large empty mattress, your knees pulled up slightly, watching the doorway. A moment later, the quiet familiar sound of Spencer’s shuffling footsteps echoed against the hardwood floor.
He moved like a ghost, his tall gaunt frame silhouetted by the pale moonlight as he crossed the frame of the door. He didn't intend to stop, but as he passed, you shifted against the sheets, the soft fabric rustling in the dead quiet of the apartment.
Spencer froze instantly, his hyper vigilant posture stiffening into defensive rigidity.
He purposefully, deliberately kept his eyes glued to the floorboards, treating the mattress like a crime scene he was forbidden from contaminating. The tight set of his jaw proved he knew exactly where you were sitting. He let out a slow shallow breath, trapped in the doorway, caught between the urge to run and the agonizing reality that you were awake.
"Goodnight," he murmured, his voice a flat mechanical whisper that barely carried across the room. It was the same hollow scripted sign off he had used every single night this week.
He immediately began to turn away, his shoulder shifting to shield his exit as he prepared to retreat to the safety of the couch.
Something inside you violently snapped. The endless freezing nights, the clinical avoidance in the kitchen, the agonizing memory of him flinching away from the mere ghost of your touch, it all rushed to the surface, boiling over into a hot volatile surge of pure unadulterated frustration and blinding loneliness.
Before your brain could even process the impulse, you lunged off the bed, your bare feet slapped loudly against the hardwood floor as you crossed the room in three blind frantic strides.
Spencer didn't even have time to react before you stepped directly into his path, your smaller frame completely blocking the narrow hallway. You threw your shoulders back, physically anchoring yourself in front of him like an unyielding wall.
"No," you breathed, your voice raw, trembling and vibrating with an intensity that cut through the room like a blade. "No Spencer, you're not sleeping on that couch tonight."
Spencer froze instantly, the sudden aggressive blockage of his path sending a visible tremor through his long frame. Slowly and painfully, he forced his head up, his hazel eyes flickering behind the thick glass of his lenses, finally clashing directly into yours.
"Sweetheart please," he muttered, his jaw ticking violently, a small muscle in his cheek twitching with the immense effort it was taking to keep his composure from unraveling. He took a deliberate heavy step backward, trying to reestablish the clinical safety distance. "Go back to bed, it’s late and I’m... I’m tired… I need to lie down."
"I don't care how late it is!" You snapped, stepping right with him, refusing to give him an inch of the separation he was begging for. The tears you had been suppressing for days finally spilled over your lower lashes, tracking hot and fast down your cheeks. "And don't you dare lie to me and tell me you're going to sleep out there! You aren't sleeping at all Spencer! Look at you! You're completely destroying yourself and you're destroying us, because you're terrified to close your eyes!"
"I'm managing my symptoms based on a structured behavioral regression model," he stammered out, his voice rising slightly, the clinical jargon slipping out of his mouth like a desperate shield to keep his emotions contained. "Statistically, the probability of a secondary night terror episode decreases dramatically if the sensory triggers of the shared environment are-”
"Stop it! Stop running behind the math Spencer! I don't want the statistics!" You screamed, your voice breaking into a ragged desperate sob that echoed loudly down the dark hallway. "I don't care about the models! I miss my boyfriend! I miss the man who holds me until I fall asleep! You're abandoning me Spencer! You're letting your guilt punish both of us!"
"I'm protecting you!" Spencer suddenly shouted back, his voice completely losing its calm intellectual edge and dropping into a deep jagged guttural octave that sounded like it was being violently dragged over broken gravel.
The fragile artificial composure he had spent a week manufacturing didn't just crack, it entirely shattered into a million pieces. He stepped forward, his massive towering height looming over you in the dark hallway, his entire body vibrating with a desperate self loathing agony.
"How can you stand there and say I'm punishing you?" He yelled, his eyes wide, wild and swimming with a thick veil of tears that finally broke, spilling down his pale cheeks. His voice caught in a raw choked sob, his face twisting into an expression of pure devastating self loathing. “I'm terrified of myself! Do you understand me? I'm completely terrified of what I’ve become! I woke up in the dark and my hands were tangled in your hair! My body was pinning you down and I was choking the breath out of your lungs that I almost killed you! The person I love more than my own life... I treated you like an inmate trying to murder me in the yard…"
He looked completely defenseless, his long frame caving inward as his trembling hands flew up to cover his face.
"I'm a monster," he wept openly now, his chest hitching in a frantic hyperventilating rhythm as he backed up until his spine slammed into the drywall of the hallway. "I came out of that place with a sickness in my head and it’s… dangerous. How can you want me near you? How can you look at me and want me in that bed when you know that if I close my eyes..."
The raw bleeding vulnerability of his confession stripped away the last of your frustration, leaving behind nothing but a profound wave of absolute devotion. You didn't hesitate for a single millisecond, you bridged the final agonizing distance between your bodies and stepped directly into his personal space.
"Spencer," you whispered, your voice a fierce steady vow that refused to let him sink any deeper into his own darkness.
Before he could flinch, before he could recalculate his coordinates or throw up another psychological wall, you reached out and grabbed both of his trembling sweat slick hands.
He tried to pull away, his muscles tensing as a panicked gasp left his lips, but you held on with a surprising strength of your own. You forced his long shaking fingers open, flattening his large palms directly against your body, one hand locked firmly over the frantic rapid fire beating of your heart and the other pressed flat against the bare burning skin of your waist.
"Look at me," you commanded softly, forcing him to meet your gaze through his tears. "I don't care about the nightmares Spencer, I don't care about the prison and I don't care about the scars or the survival instincts. I know exactly who you're… you're my man and you could never be a monster to me."
You squeezed his wrists, pressing his palms heavier into your skin, letting him feel the real warm pulsing evidence of your life beneath his fingers.
"I'm not afraid of you, I will never be afraid of you. I don't need a perfectly safe clinical apartment Spencer... I just need you, all of you, even the dark parts so please... stop running away from me."
The heavy agonizing dam that Spencer had constructed out of his suffocating guilt, his clinical evaluations and his endless exhausting self loathing didn’t just crack under the weight of your words, it shattered into absolute nothingness.
The moment his bare trembling palms registered the real radiating warmth of your skin, the last remaining shred of his discipline dissolved into a desperate feral hunger. A low jagged sound tore from deep within his chest, a raw groan of pure undisputed defeat that vibrated right through your own ribs.
"Baby… please," he choked out, his voice cracking violently as his forehead crashed down against yours, his eyes closing tight as if the physical sensation of your skin was a shock to his entire nervous system. "Don't say that, don't say you aren't afraid of me when I'm... when I'm falling apart like this."
"I'm not," you cried, your fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt at his waist, pulling him closer. "I'm not afraid of you Spencer… I love you."
He didn't hesitate for another microsecond, he didn't run a single statistic in his head, and he didn't let the terrifying ghosts of the prison cell block dictate his movements for a single second longer. His hands suddenly locked onto your waist, claiming what he had starved himself of for seven endless freezing days.
With a sudden violent surge of long denied possessiveness, he yanked your entire frame forward, lifting you completely off your feet and spinning you around in one fluid heavy motion. Before you could even register the sudden shift in gravity, Spencer ruthlessly slammed your back straight into the narrow hallway wall.
"Tell me again," he demanded frantically, his voice a dark unhinged rasp that vibrated directly against your lips as he hovered millimeters away, his hands anchoring your hips back into the wall so hard your spine arched. "Tell me you want me… say it baby... please."
"I need you," you sobbed out, your hands flying up to wrap securely around his neck, your fingers tangling deep into his curls. "I need you so bad Spenc-"
The last syllable of his name hadn't even fully left your lips before he completely cut you off, crashing his mouth down onto yours. It wasn't a calculated or a gentle touch, it was a bruising desperate collision of lips and teeth, a messy starved reclamation that tasted of salt, tears and pure intoxicating heat.
He bit at your lower lip, his tongue forcing its way past your teeth with a rough demanding stroke that made a soft helpless whimper slip from your throat.
He broke the kiss for a mere fraction of a second just to draw a ragged burning lungful of air, but immediately surged right back in, capturing your mouth again, his tongue tangling with yours in a deep wet frantic rhythm that left you entirely breathless.
Without letting an inch of space come between your bodies, he hooked his hands under your thighs, hoisting you up around his waist and carrying you directly over the threshold into the dark shadowed sanctuary of the bedroom, walking blind until your bodies tumbled together onto the center of the mattress.
He began to rain hot heavy kisses all over the damp flushed skin of your face, his mouth moving frantically, tracing the sharp line of your jaw, pressing deep lingering marks into the sensitive skin beneath your ear before surging upward to press heavy wet kisses onto your fluttering tear stained eyelids.
"I… I missed you... I missed you so much, it was killing me," he gasped against your neck, his chest heaving violently against yours. “I’m so sorry sweetheart... I'm so sorry for leaving you in the dark... please just let me taste you… I can’t handle another second of not having you. I tried to stay away, I swear I tried… but I'm losing my mind without you."
"Don't stay away again," you pleaded, arching your neck to give his mouth more room. "Don't ever go back to that couch Spencer."
"Never," he swore against your skin, his teeth grazing your collarbone just hard enough to send a wild electric shudder straight down your spine. "Never again, I promise you… just let me have you."
His hands slid from your waist down to your thighs, his fingers hooking under the fabric of your shorts and dragging them downward with a reckless tearing force. He shoved you backward until you were flat on your back in the center of the bed, looming over you with his eyes dark, blown out and completely wild.
He reached down, his long fingers tangling into your hair at the sides of your head, pinning you to the pillow so you couldn't look away.
"Look at me," he commanded, his voice dropping into a deep gravelly rasp, his thumbs stroking your cheekbones, wiping away the fresh tears. "Tell me you're ready for me... I need to hear it doll, I need to hear that you aren't afraid of what I'm about to do to you."
"I want you to touch me," you breathed, your voice breaking into a ragged sob as your hands framed his sharp jaw. "I'm not afraid Spencer… please… just take me."
"You're so good to me," he whispered, slamming his mouth down onto yours one more time in a deep desperate lingering kiss before sliding backward, dropping down to his knees at the foot of the bed.
His hands slid down the length of your bare legs, his fingers wrapping tightly around your ankles before he ruthlessly hauled your body down the mattress until your hips were perfectly aligned with the edge, completely open before him.
"Look at you," he whispered, his voice dropping into a deep gravelly rasp that vibrated right through the floorboards. His knuckles slowly, deliberately traced the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. "A full week of me sleeping on that couch, a full week of me treating you like you were made of glass and you’re already so wet for me. Tell me you missed my hands on you… tell me."
"I did," you gasped out, your hips twitching under his touch. "I missed you so much Spencer."
"I know baby, I know," he murmured, his hands sliding flat against the soft flesh of your inner thighs, mapping the contours of your skin as he stroked upward from your knees to your hips with a slow deliberate pressure.
"You have no idea what it did to me… seeing you every day and not being able to touch you," he whispered, leaning over your legs as his long curls brushed against your shins, lowering his head to press a slow lingering kiss to the soft flesh of your knee. "Seven days of watching you move through this apartment, starving for you... I'm so sorry I made you feel abandoned."
He slid his hands higher, slowly parting your legs, pressing his lips to the middle of your right thigh, his breath hot and damp against your skin. He shifted his grip, anchoring onto your thighs with a firm unyielding pressure, exposing your center to the pale light.
Your hips twitched instinctively, a soft whimper escaping your lips as his mouth crept closer.
The first touch of his mouth was an agonizingly slow calculated press of his warm lips against the hyper sensitive crease of your hip. He hovered there, his hot heavy breath fanning over your swollen center, before parting your folds with the flat tip of his tongue, sliding it with excruciating slowness from the very bottom of your cunt all the way up to the hyper sensitive peak of your clit.
"Spencer! Oh god... Spencer," you cried out, your spine instantly arching off the mattress as your fingers fisted blindly into the bunched up sheets on either side of your head.
"Do you like that baby?" He muttered against your wet skin, his voice dripping with authority. "Tell me how it feels, let me hear you say it."
"It feels so good... please… don't stop," you begged, your voice tight and strained.
He leaned in completely, his lips sealing over your swollen pulsing folds. He abandoned all gentleness, his tongue shifting into a relentless rhythm that drove you entirely out of your mind. He flattened his tongue against your clit, tracing tight, agonizingly perfect circles around the nerve endings while simultaneously using his lips to suck the sensitive peak deep into the heat of his mouth.
The wet rhythmic sounds of his mouth against your flesh echoed loudly through the quiet bedroom. You tossed your head from side to side on the pillow, a continuous stream of fractured gasps slipping from your lips.
Suddenly, the distance became too much for him even down there. Spencer surged up the length of your body, pinning your torso flat against the mattress with his chest as he smashed his wet, slick mouth right back onto yours. The kiss was chaotic and loud, his tongue driving into your mouth, forcing you to taste your own sweetness on his lips.
"You taste so good... so sweet," Spencer muttered right against your lips, pulling back just an inch to look down into your glazed eyes. His lips were completely smeared with your internal wetness, glittering in the blue moonlight. "Look at how much you're leaking for me. You like what I'm doing to you sweetheart?"
"Yes!... S’much," you cried out, your hands gripping his shoulders desperately. "It's yours… please... "
"Good girl," he growled, before sliding back down between your thighs to finish what he started.
He drove his tongue back into your heat, his pace accelerating into something desperate and frantic. He flattened his tongue and slid it deep inside your opening before curling it upward to stroke your internal walls, while his thumb pressed firmly against your clit to keep the external stimulation reaching a feverish unbearable pitch.
You were completely trapped beneath the unyielding weight of his shoulders, your legs held wide open, forced to endure the absolute mastery of his mouth. Every single flick of his tongue felt like a lightning strike straight to your nervous system.
"Spencer… please!... I… Ahh!~... I'm gonna... I'm gonna cum… please… I can't take it!" You screamed, your fingers tearing at the pillowcases as your pelvis violently trembled against his face.
"That's it… arch for me you slut," he growled against your skin, his thumbs digging into your hips, tilting your pelvis higher to meet his mouth. "Give it all to me, cum for me doll… come on!"
He delivered three fast blunt merciless suctions directly on your hyper sensitive peak, paired with a deep slide of his tongue inside your tight opening, and the dam inside you violently broke.
A sharp shattered wail tore from your throat, your entire body going completely rigid on the mattress as a massive messy orgasm crashed over you. Your internal muscles seized in violent spasms, milking the empty air as your release poured out of you in hot pulsing waves.
Spencer didn't pull back for a single second. With a dark feral snarl of pure victory, he drove his face even deeper into your soaking heat, his tongue working frantically to lap up every single drop of your release, drinking down your climax until your hips were trembling so violently you completely collapsed back into the sheets, gasping for air.
He stayed on his knees for a long heavy beat, his chest rising and falling violently, his lips wet and smeared with the shimmering evidence of your surrender. When he finally lifted his head, his hazel eyes were gone, the pupils completely blown out into two dark bottomless voids of pure unadulterated territorial hunger.
Spencer stood up from the edge of the bed, his movements fluid, frantic and filled with a singular purpose. His eyes never left your glazed face as his fingers flew to the drawstring of his sweatpants, untying and kicking them away in a single swift motion, stripping out of his clothes with a trembling speed.
In the pale light, your eyes traced the stark jagged lines of the prison scars on his skin, the faded lingering bruises on his ribs and the intense rigid set of his spine, but there was no fear left in your chest. His length was fully erect, thick and throbbing with a heavy pulse against his lower abdomen, completely slick with a heavy drop of precum that caught the blue light of the room.
He didn't say a word as he crawled back over you, moving up the mattress like a predator, his large frame blocking out the bedroom. He collapsed down against your chest, his arms winding tightly around your neck as he buried his face in your hair, a fractured sobbing gasp leaving his lips.
"I can't breathe without you," he whispered frantically, his voice cracking as his lips blindly sought yours in the dark. He caught your mouth in a wet heavy bruising tangle of tongues, his teeth grazing your lips as he drank down your whimpers. "Talk to me doll… please… let me know you're right here with me."
"I love you Spencer," you sobbed out, arching your neck as his mouth slid down to press a hot heavy kiss to your jawline. "Spencer please… I need you inside me right now… look at how much I want you."
"You're so good to me… my girl… my good sweet girl."
He slid down your body, his hands locking onto your waist, his fingers sinking deep into your hips. He anchored you down, tilting your pelvis upward. The second his length lined up with your entrance, all of Spencer’s legendary intellect stripped away, leaving behind a man driven by sheer primitive starvation.
He didn't ease into you, he didn't give your body a second to adjust. With a brutal desperate thrust of his hips, Spencer buried himself to the absolute hilt inside your soaking heat in one single bottoming surge.
A high shattered scream tore straight from your throat, your spine arching off the mattress as your vision sparked white at the blunt massive depth of him. The stretch was instantaneous and suffocating, your internal walls throwing up a violent frantic grip around his shaft as your cervix absorbed the full heavy impact of his pelvis.
Spencer let out a broken ragged groan that vibrated right through your chest. His composure completely failed, his massive frame collapsing flat on top of you, smothering your cries with hot messy desperate kissed.
His tongue drove deep into your mouth, tangling with yours in a wet starved rhythm while his hands flew to the sides of your face, his fingers digging into your hair to pin you to the pillow.
"Tell me you're real," he rasped frantically, pulling back a millimeter, his hazel eyes wide, dark and completely unhinged as his chest heaved against yours. "Sweetheart please... say my name, tell me I'm not hurting you... tell me you're right here."
"Spencer... Ahhh~... please," you sobbed out, your hands clawing at his back, your nails digging into his skin as your hips twitched beneath his heavy weight. "I'm right here... I'm real... I'm yours... please move."
"You're so tight... so warm... so perfect for me," he whimpered against your lips, his jaw setting into a hard ruthless line as he pulled back just an inch before slamming his hips forward again.
He set a punishing relentless pace right out of the gate, establishing a deep heavy rhythm that echoed loudly off the dark bedroom walls. Every upward surge drove him deep into your core, his thick head hitting your internal sweet spot with a terrifying mechanical precision that sent white hot shocks of pleasure straight to your brain.
He was completely unraveled, operating on pure instinct. His mouth left yours, sliding down the wet flushed column of your neck to press hot heavy frantic kisses into your skin. He bit down gently on the sensitive pulse point at your throat, his teeth grazing your flesh just hard enough to draw a soft whimper from your lips before his tongue lapped over the mark, soothing the sting with wet possessive strokes.
"I spent seven days staring at this neck," he growled, his voice a dark gravelly rasp against your skin as his thrusts grew faster, harder, more reckless. "Seven days on that couch calculating every inch of your body in my head, going fuckin insane because I couldn't put my mouth right here."
He dragged his lips down further, trailing heavy scalding kisses over your collarbone, his long fingers sliding down to grip your waist with an iron pressure that left dark marks on your hips. He hoisted one of your legs higher, draping your thigh over his hip, opening your core at an agonizingly sharp angle that let him penetrate you even deeper.
The blunt friction was overwhelming, the sheer volume of his length stretch printing itself into your flesh until you were tossing your head side to side on the pillow, completely out of your mind.
"Spencer... I can't... it's too much!" You cried out, your fingers tangling deep into his messy curls, pulling his head down.
Instead of slowing down, Spencer dropped his mouth down to your bare chest. He took one swollen sensitive nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the peak before sucking it deep into the wet heat of his throat.
A sharp shattered wail ripped from your lungs as the dual sensation of his mouth on your breast and his heavy hips slamming into your cunt short circuited your nervous system. And before you could even adjust to it, his thumb reached down between your bodies, finding your swollen clit and pressing flat against it, grinding in tight agonizing circles in time with his deep thrusts.
"Look at what you do to me," Spencer rasped against your wet skin, his breath burning hot as his tongue flicked over your nipple, making you writhe violently beneath him. "Look at how easy you break for your man. You're milking me so hard... squeezing me so tight I can barely breathe."
"I'm... g-gonna... Ahhh!~... gonna cum... Spencer please!" You screamed, your internal muscles clenching down around his shaft in frantic rapid fire contractions.
"Cum with me sweetheart," he growled, his voice cracking with pure emotion as he felt your release building. He accelerated his pace into a frantic unhinged blur, his pelvis slamming against yours with a wet heavy thud, his tongue driving back into your mouth to swallow your cries. "Cum for me... do it baby... please!"
The climax you both like a physical collision, a violent wave of blinding pleasure that locked your entire frame rigid. Your internal walls seized around him, pulsing in heavy desperate spasms, and the helpless suction of your climax instantly dragged Spencer right over the edge with you.
With a raw shattered roar that tore from deep within his chest, Spencer drove himself to the absolute hilt one last time, his body going rigged above you as he unloaded a thick burning wave of his release deep inside your core.
His forehead crashed against yours, his entire frame shaking violently as he poured himself into you, his mouth locked onto yours in a deep messy suffocating kiss that drank down every single breath you had left.
You both lay there for a brief breathless second, chest to chest, gasping for air as the room spun in a heavy overstimulated haze, but Spencer didn't pull out. He couldn't.
The physical sensation of your warm internal walls still throbbing around his length, paired with the sheer overwhelming relief of having you in his arms, sent another surge of wild desperate need straight to his brain. He was still rock hard inside you, his pulse throbbing heavily against your cervix.
"I... I can't... I need more," he gasped against your lips, his hazel eyes blown out, completely dark with a territorial hunger that knew no limit. "I'm sorry baby... I'm so sorry... I can't stop... I need you more... I need all of you."
Before you could even draw a full breath, Spencer tightened his grip on your hips and slammed forward again. A high broken gasp left your lips as he immediately reestablished a fast brutal rhythm, his thrusts coming harder, faster and far more unhinged than before.
He was completely relentless, taking advantage of your overstimulated hyper sensitive state, driving his length deep into your soaking cunt with a heavy possessive force that rattled the headboard against the wall.
"Spencer!... Hahh-ahh~... I just- Please!" You sobbed out, your hands framing his sharp jaw, your thumbs wiping away the sweat slicked on his cheekbones. "It's too much... it feels... too good!"
"Good," he growled, his mouth sliding down to map your jawline, pressing deep lingering wet marks into your skin before moving down to capture your other nipple between his teeth, grazing it just hard enough to make your hips buck mindlessly against his. "I want you so wet you're leaking all over my thighs... I want you so ruined you can't even think about anyone else."
He slid his hands beneath your lower back, arching your spine off the mattress, lifting your hips so every single thrust hit your internal sweet spot with brutal efficiency. His mouth moved feverishly all over your body, kissing your neck, your shoulders, your chest, his tongue leaving a slick burning trail over your skin.
"Look at you taking every single inch of me," he rasped, his breath hot and ragged as his pace turned wild, his thrusts losing all order as he chased his second climax. "You're so sweet doll... so tight... so perfect for me... tell me you feel me deep inside you... tell me whose cock is filling you up."
"Yours... yours Spencer!... Please!" You wailed, your spine arching impossibly high as a second, even more violent wave of pleasure began to coil deep in your lower abdomen, building so fast your lungs couldn't keep up.
"That's right sweetheart," he snarled, his voice dropping into a deep guttural octave that vibrated straight through your ribs. He slammed his mouth back onto yours, his tongue thrusting deep in tandem with his heavy hips, driving you ruthlessly over the precipice. "Take it all... give it to me... cum again for me please!"
The second orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, far more intense and messy than the first, your internal muscles locking around his shaft in a violent vice like grip.
The sheer force of your second climax completely broke Spencer. With a dark feral snarl, he shoved himself as deep as physically possible, his hips pinned flat against yours as a second massive white hot release tore through his body.
He shook uncontrollably on top of you, groaning your name into the crook of your neck as he flooded your core once more, holding you down until the very last drop was spent and both of your bodies collapsed completely limp onto the sheets.
Spencer stayed right where he was, buried deep for a long heavy minute, his frame anchoring you flat against the soft sheets. His forehead pressed firmly against yours, his long damp curls falling like a curtain around your faces as his chest heaved against yours.
There was no panic left in his hazel eyes now.
He slowly, carefully slid his length out of your body, but as a soft breathless whimper left your lips, he immediately dragged his long limbs around you, refusing to let an inch of cold air settle between your bodies.
"Stay still sweetheart," he whispered a moment later, returning from the bathroom with a warm damp washcloth. "Give me just a second okay?"
He knelt back onto the mattress, his movements slow and gentle as he began the tender ritual of cleaning you, wiping away the slick evidence of your climaxes with a feather soft touch.
When the pale blue moonlight illuminated the dark violet fingerprint bruises his iron grip had left on the soft flesh of your hips, Spencer froze, but this time he didn't recoil.
He dropped the cloth and leaned down, pressing a soft lingering open mouthed kiss directly over the darkest bruise. He stayed there for a long moment before sliding over to kiss the next mark, and then the next, mapping every single shadow his hands had made.
"I've got you," he murmured against your skin, his voice thick with an emotional weight that made your eyes well with fresh tears. "I've got you baby, you're so safe with me, I promise you."
He gently guided your arms through the sleeves of his clean favorite shirt, pulling the soft fabric over your head before sliding under the heavy comforter. He reached out his arms, wrapping them securely around your waist and hauling you until you were lying completely on top of him, your chest flat against his sternum and your legs tangled with his.
You let out a long shuddering sigh of pure contentment, burying your face in the warm pulsing hollow of his throat.
Spencer rested his chin on top of your head, his long fingers mindlessly drawing slow soothing circles into the fabric covering your spine.
As you both finally began to drift off into a heavy sleep, the lingering terror of the past week completely evaporated into the shadows. The cold ice wall had dissolved, replaced entirely by a deep soul shaking certainty.
As you listened to the steady uninterrupted beat of Spencer's heart beneath your cheek, you knew the prison yard no longer held any power over this room. You were exactly where you belonged, locked safely in the arms of the man who loved you.
Tag list: @hiddentattooodyssey @maxsaturdayhatesnarwhals
hey! would u write a haley x fem reader where the reader is an alt guitarist? bonus if you could include their before, during and after show shenanigans... 🤭🤭 post-show quality time if you catch my drift. 😇😇 your works are amazing!!! thx if u get to it ❤️❤️
Omg hear me out!! Sam 8 hearts event and they knew the farmer is a guitarist so they took her to the show with them and Haley is jealous or Haley is proud of her OMG!!!!! You're amazing and this idea is amazing but you have to send me another ask telling me of you're ok with the idea or if you want it a whole alternative universe because I will definitely write this 100% THANK YOU!!!!!!
Masterlist | Please comment or reblog if you liked it <3
Everyone in Pelican Town knows you and Sam can't keep your hands or your mouthy, shameless flirting to yourselves, but you've always had the buffer of the group to keep things from completely crossing the line. When a brutal storm floods the valley and cancels everyone else's plans, Sam shows up at your doorstep drenched to the bone, grinning like a menace, and leaving you alone together in your bedroom for the very first time. With no one around to interrupt, every wicked joke becomes a direct invitation, every brush of bare skin turns into a dare and the filthy game you've both been playing for months finally explodes into something neither of you can control.
The sky above Pelican Town didn’t just open up, it cracked completely wide open. It was a late summer apocalyptic deluge, the kind of torrential downpour that turns the dirt paths of your farm into treacherous mud rivers within minutes, and rattled the wooden beams of your farmhouse until the glass windows vibrated.
You had spent the entire afternoon cleaning up and setting up the living room for a massive group hangout. The plan was solid: you, Sam, Sebastian, Abigail, Haley and Alex were all supposed to cram into your house, escape the suffocating heat of the valley and spend the night losing your minds over terrible horror movies and eating an ungodly amount of buttered popcorn.
Then the front hit.
Your phone began to vibrate violently, buzzing in a rapid succession of death knells for your plans. You walked over and picked it up, the screen illuminating your face as the group chat notifications flooded in.
Abigail: yeah no way am i walking through this, pretty sure i just saw a lightning bolt strike a tree
Seb: roads are flooded anyway, motorcycle won't make it past the river, im out
Haley: my hair would literally dissolve if i stepped outside :( Alex is staying with me to watch the storm… sorry!
You let out a sigh, tossing the phone back onto the counter. The screen went black and the house was completely silent except for the relentless deafening sound of the rain lashing against the roof.
"Well," you muttered to yourself, looking around the empty, perfectly clean room. "So much for that."
You padded into your bedroom, kicking off your denim shorts and pulling off your shirt. In their place, you slid into a pair of black micro shorts, the kind that hugged your hips tightly and left the entire length of your thighs completely bare and a tiny tight white crop top with spaghetti straps that barely reached the very end of your ribs.
It left your entire midriff exposed, the soft skin of your stomach completely bare to the cool air conditioned draft of the house. You loosened your hair, letting it fall down your shoulders and headed toward the bathroom to finish getting ready for an early bed, thoroughly resigned to a lonely night.
KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.
The sound was loud, frantic and nearly drowned out by a massive roll of thunder. You froze in the middle of the hallway, your heart leaping into your throat. Who the hell would be out in this?
You hurried to the front door, unlocking the heavy deadbolt and pulling it open.
The wind instantly drove a spray of freezing rain right across your face and chest, but you didn't even care because your eyes went wide. Standing on your porch, completely illuminated by a flash of lightning, was Sam.
He was a disaster, his signature spiked hair was completely flattened, plastered to his forehead and dripping water into his eyes. His denim jacket was completely soaked through to the point of heavy dripping saturation. He was holding his breath, water streaming down his jawline, but despite looking like a drowned rat, he was grinning at you like a total idiot.
"Why the fuck are you here in this weather?!" You yelled over the roar of the wind, your jaw practically dropping.
Sam shivered violently, his teeth literally chattering as he took a step over the threshold. He looked you up and down, his eyes instantly tracking the bare expanse of your midriff and the high curve of your thighs in those tiny shorts.
"I came so we can fuck obviously," he said, his voice raspy and trembling from the cold. Even frozen to the bone, a wicked low smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.
You didn't even give him a second to stand there, you grabbed him by the damp lapels of his soaked jacket and violently hauled him inside, slamming the door shut behind him to lock out the howling storm.
"Oh," Sam teased, his voice a shaky breathy chuckle as you dragged him firmly by the arm toward your bedroom. "You're so impatient."
"Shut up Sam!" You snapped, as you hauled him into the bedroom and gave him a firm angry shove backward, forcing him to sit down right on the edge of your bed.
Before he could even utter a word or laugh at your irritation, you stepped right into his space, standing between his knees. You grabbed the wet lapels of his jacket, yanking it aggressively off his shoulders, shoving the damp fabric down his arms and tossing it to the floor with a heavy wet thud.
Sam let out a low breathy chuckle, completely unfazed by your fury.
"Ohh so we're skipping the talking? Didn't know you're this desperate to see me naked doll," he teased, his voice dripping with cocky amusement.
You glared at him, looking completely mad as your hands immediately moved to the hem of his soaked t-shirt, which was clinging to his chest like a second skin and showing off the lean solid muscle of his torso.
"You look cute when you're throwing a tantrum," he kept going, leaning his head back with a wicked smirk just to rile you up further. "Are you gonna tear my pants off next or should I beg?"
Neglecting his teasing remarks with a sharp irritated hiss, you grabbed the fabric and slowly pulled it up and over his head. Your fingers accidentally -on purpose- brushed against the warm damp skin of his ribs and you felt the muscles of his stomach violently contract at the touch.
You continued to ignore him, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response as you turned sharply on your heel and marched right over to your closet to hunt for dry clothes.
You dug deep into the back drawers until your fingers wrapped around a familiar black fabric. It was an old t-shirt of his, one you had borrowed from his room months ago under the pretense of being cold and had intentionally never returned.
You marched right back into his space, stepping between his thighs and closing the distance until your bare stomach was mere inches from his.
"Hands up skater boy," you commanded softly, your voice dropping its angry edge into something much more dangerous.
Sam raised his arms with a low grunt as you unfolded his old shirt, hovering over him to guide his arms through the sleeves and pull the soft fabric down over his broad shoulders.
As your hands smoothed the cotton down over his chest, Sam’s hands slowly moved. The tips of his fingers lightly tracked up your sides, skimming the bare skin right above the waistband of your shorts. The deliberate light drag of his callouses against your skin made your breath completely hitch.
He tilted his head up, looking at you through his damp blond bangs, his eyes locked onto yours.
"You look so happy to see me babe," he murmured, his voice dropping an octave, completely full of cocky teasing confidence.
You didn't pull away from his hands, you kept your stance locked right between his thighs as you tilted his chin up, your fingers gripping his jaw firmly to force him to look directly into your eyes.
"I'm actually happy," you countered, a sweet dangerous smile spreading across your lips. "But you could've caught a cold... and I'll never fuck a man with a fever Sammy.”
Sam’s grip on your waist tightened, his thumbs stroking your skin a little harder, his breathing turning shallow.
"I don't have a fever doll," he whispered, his eyes dropping to your lips, his chest rising and falling heavily against your thighs. "But you're burning me alive right now."
The tension in the room instantly dialed up to a suffocating dizzying high. The storm was screaming outside, but the space between the two of you was completely static.
You decided it was time to play the first card.
You slowly brought your hands up, your fingers wrapping gently around the damp strands of hair at the back of his neck, tilting his head back just a little more, forcing him to look straight up into your eyes.
You tilted your own head down, your eyelids fluttering half closed, your breath fanning directly over his parted lips. You leaned in, agonizingly slow, millimeter by millimeter, until the tips of your noses brushed and your lips were so close you could feel the rhythmic desperate hitch in his exhale.
Sam closed his eyes, completely hypnotized, his lips parting further as he leaned up to finally, desperately meet your mouth-
And right before your lips touched, you stopped.
You leaned your head just an inch to the side, pressing your lips right against the shell of his ear, and whispered in a low wicked purr. "My oversized pants are in the third drawer. Change and I'll go make popcorn."
Before he could even process the words, you released his hair and stepped completely out from between his thighs. You turned on your heel, a triumphant smirk plastered across your face as you began to walk out of the bedroom.
Sam let out a loud agonized groan, throwing his head back into your pillows. "Fuuuck... you can't do this to me!" He called out, his voice strained with frustration.
"I can for sure," you threw back effortlessly, giggling softly as you headed straight into the kitchen, leaving him completely tortured on your bed.
The smell of hot butter and kernels cracking against the heavy metal of the pot filled the kitchen. You were standing at the counter, a large bowl waiting in front of you as you carefully lifted the lid off the stove.
Wisps of white steam curled upward, warming your face, but it was nothing compared to the sudden vibration of footsteps echoing from the hallway. You didn't turn around, you don't have to.
Sam walked out of the bedroom, and he was entirely done playing nice. He was wearing the oversized grey sweatpants he found where you told him to search. They hung low on his hips, the soft thin cotton doing absolutely nothing to hide the thick rigid silhouette underneath.
You pretended to be utterly absorbed in pouring the popcorn into the bowl, your hands steady, but your ears were tracking the exact velocity of his approach.
He didn't just walk up to you, he cornered you. Sam stalked right up behind your back, closing the distance until there wasn't a single millimeter of air left between his front and your back. He lifted one arm, reaching up slowly to grab a glass from the cupboard directly above your head and in the process, he deliberately pressed his entire lower body right into you.
Your breath completely caught in your throat as you felt everything. The heavy burning weight of his dick pressing hard and flat right into the cleft of your backside. It was massive, thick and radiating a terrifying amount of heat.
Sam didn't hurry to grab the glass, he stayed right there, anchoring you against the edge of the counter, his chest flush against your bare shoulder blades. He lowered his head, his damp blond bangs brushing the side of your face as his lips grazed the sensitive skin of your earlobe. His breath was a hot ragged puff against your neck.
"You look gorgeous with this no-clothes clothes-style baby," he murmured, his voice dropping into a rough rasp that sent a violent shiver straight down your spine.
You weren't going to fold, you gripped the edge of the counter, tilting your head back slightly into his shoulder alignment and deliberately pushed your hips backward. You leaned your ass heavily right into his pulsing bulge, grinding yourself firmly against his hardness, making sure he felt exactly how much he was affecting you.
"Thank you Sammy," you purred softly, your voice dripping with sweet teasing malice.
A low grunt hitched in Sam’s throat, the hand reaching for the glass froze, his fingers twitching against the shelf. For a second, you thought he was going to rip your clothes off right then and there, but with a sharp exhale, he played his own card. He pulled back just an inch, his eyes dark and completely unraveled as he looked down at you.
"Actually," Sam said, a wicked daredevil glint returning to his eyes as he stepped around you, leaning his lower back flat against the counter right in front of you. He hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his sweatpants, showing off the deep V-shaped lines of his lower stomach. "I have a problem. I can’t tie the drawstring on these damn things, my hands are still shaking so badly from the cold rain."
He held up his fingers, giving you a completely fake pathetic twitch, though his chest was heaving. He was forcing you to look down at his waist, where the grey fabric was explicitly tented outward, pushing hard against the fly of the pants.
"Awww you poor thing," you mocked softly, stepping right back into his personal space until your bare thighs were nearly brushing his knees.
You leaned down slightly, bringing your hands right to the waistband of his pants. You deliberately let the backs of your fingers brush flat against the scorching velvety skin of his lower stomach, tracing the light path of hair that disappeared beneath the cotton.
You intentionally skimmed the tips of your knuckles right against the exact spot where the fabric rose, feeling the thick pulsing heat of his throbbing member right through the cloth.
Sam’s breath completely fractured, the cocky look vanished from his face. He grabbed the counter behind him so violently as he tried to keep from grabbing your wrists and pinning you to the floor. Every time your knuckles grazed his heavy erection, his stomach muscles violently spasmed, a low shaky breath escaping his teeth.
"You're a demon," he growled under his breath, his jaw locked.
"Just trying to help you Sammy," you whispered, finally tying the string into a neat bow. You patted his stomach right above his hardness, giving him a smile as you looked up at him.
Your eyes lingered on him for a moment, tracing the way up from his jaw to the top of his head. Up close under the bright kitchen light, his hair was an absolute mess from the storm, damp, clumpy and falling wildly into his eyes, completely ruining his usual perfectly styled look. "Your hair looks ridiculous. Come here.”
"Sit," you commanded, as you grabbed his arm and pulled him over to one of the wooden kitchen chairs. “I'll never fuck a man who looks this ridiculous.”
Sam sank into the chair, looking up at you with a hooded gaze, his chest still rising and falling too fast. With him sitting, you were perfectly eye level. You stepped closer, moving right between his legs again, locking him into place as you raised your hands.
You ran your fingers slowly through his damp blond hair, the cool moisture of the strands sliding between your fingers as you gently pulled the bangs back from his forehead. You took your time, using your thumbs to slowly wipe away the stray water droplets clinging to his high cheekbones and the sharp tense edge of his jawline.
Your face was inches from his, you could smell the rain on his skin, the sharp vanilla of your own perfume on his shirt and the heavy intoxicating scent of his arousal.
Sam’s eyes tracked your mouth like a hawk, he was vibrating with frustration, and he wasn't going to just sit there and take it anymore.
Without warning, his warm hands shot out, sliding directly onto your bare waist. His palms wrapped entirely around the curve of your sides, his fingers digging into your skin. He slid his hands up and down your bare torso, his hot palms frictioning against your ribs, sending an electric shock straight to your core. He gripped you firmly, anchoring you right between his legs, pinning you in place so you couldn't back away.
Your fingers froze in his hair, the horniness in the room was blinding, a physical pressure that made your heart hammer against your ribs. His thumbs traced the very bottom edge of your crop top, his eyes burning into your collarbones.
"Two can play this game you know?" He whispered, his hands squeezing your waist tightly, pulling you just a fraction closer to his lap.
You stared into his blown out pupils, your lips parting. You leaned in, slowly lowering your face until your lips were just a hair's breadth from his.
Sam’s eyes fluttered shut, his hands sliding up to cup your back, his mouth tilting up to finally devour yours, completely convinced he’d won-
You pulled back with a sharp echoing giggle. You slickly broke from his grip, stepping out of his leg trap before he could lock you down. You walked toward the bedroom doorway, looking back over your shoulder at his utterly stunned unraveled face.
"Much better," you called out, your voice full of playful victory. "Bring the popcorn loser.”
You strode back into the bedroom, a satisfied smirk playing on your face as you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, biting down gently to suppress a triumphant giggle. Walking over to the side of the bed, you climbed onto the mattress, arranging yourself comfortably against the headboard.
You pulled the duvet loosely over your bare legs, your fingers mindlessly flicking through the movie options on the TV screen, the ambient light casting a soft dim glow over your exposed midriff.
A moment later, Sam walked back into the bedroom, carrying the large bowl of popcorn. He climbed onto the mattress, sliding under the blankets right next to you.
"Found anything good yet?" He asked, his voice already a little lower, a little rougher than usual. He placed the bowl between you, but his eyes weren't on the TV. They were tracking the way your shorts had ridden up even higher against your thighs.
"I don't know, still looking," you murmured, intentionally keeping your eyes on the screen, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a direct look. You nudged the bowl closer to him. "Feed me Sammy, my hands are busy."
Sam let out a low dark chuckle. "Yeah? Anything for you baby."
He reached into the bowl, his hand digging out a few kernels, but he doesn't just hand them to you. He leaned over, his chest nearly brushing your bare shoulder as he brought his hand to your face. He slowly pressed a piece of popcorn between your lips. As you took it, he deliberately dragged his thumb over your bottom lip, applying just enough pressure to pull it down slightly.
"You're really hungry tonight aren't you?" He whispered, a cocky smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as his thumb idly traces your bottom lip. "Can't wait to show you what else I can get you to swallow later.”
You didn't back down, you parted your lips further, wrapping your tongue directly around his knuckle. You licked the butter clean off his skin, swirling the tip of your tongue around his finger in a slow wet circle.
Sam’s breath hitched as he pushed his finger deeper into your mouth, his knuckle pressing against your tongue, letting out a ragged exhale.
You sucked on his finger for one more torturous second before biting down gently. You pulled back with a smug smirk, pointing the remote at the screen.
"What do you think of this one?" You asked, completely ignoring his dazed expression. Without waiting for his opinion, you hit play, forcing his head to turn toward the TV as the opening credits began to roll.
"You're fuckin evil," Sam muttered, his voice strained as he tried to steady his breathing, leaning back against the pillows.
The movie started, but neither of you was paying attention. Within ten minutes, a heavy intense sex scene played on the screen, the sound of moans and rustling sheets filling the quiet bedroom.
Sam shifted closer, his leg pressing flush against yours under the duvet. "Look at that," he whispered, his lips practically brushing your ear. "They aren't wasting any time, they're doing exactly what I wanted to do to you the second I walked through that door."
"Oh really?" You teased, keeping your eyes glued to the screen. "Looks a little vanilla to me Sammy."
"Vanilla?" Sam asked softly, his hand slid under the blanket, his palms finding the bare skin of your inner thigh. He started running his fingers up your leg, his touch light but burning hot. With every groan from the TV, his hand slid higher, his fingers tracing the sensitive skin, moving up toward the hem of your shorts. "I can show you exactly how unvanilla I can get. I’d have you screaming so loud the whole town would hear it over the thunder."
He hooked his fingers under the edge of your shorts as he deliberately slid his knuckles back and forth, letting the rough skin of his hand brush flat against your soaking wet folds through the fabric.
You let out a soft involuntary gasp, your hips twitching against his hand.
"Look at you," Sam taunted, his voice a dark unhinged purr right down your neck. "You're already dripping for me baby. You want me to put my fingers inside your cunt so bad don't you?"
"In your dreams," you choked out, your heart hammering against your ribs. "I'm not losing to someone who desperately walked all the way in the storm just to rail me."
Sam let out a sharp frustrated breath against your skin, his jaw tightening as he deliberately yanked his hand out from between your thighs, completely cutting off the contact.
"Fine! Have it your way," he muttered, his voice thick and rough as he reached over to the nightstand to grab the bowl of popcorn, trying to use the snack as a shield to regain his composure.
You watched him out of the corner of your eye, a slow wicked smile creeping back onto your face. Deciding you've played defense long enough, you launched your counter attack.
As Sam reached back into the bowl to grab another handful, you turned your head slightly toward him.
"Why did you stop feeding me?" You asked, your tone dripping with an intentionally sweet angelic innocence. “Do you want me to beg you? Do you want me to say please Sammy?"
Sam scoffed softly but couldn't resist, he turned his head, bringing the handful of popcorn toward your mouth, taking the bait perfectly. It gave you the exact opening you needed.
You placed your palm flat against his abdomen, ostensibly just to steady yourself, but your eyes locked onto his profile as you deliberately stretched your fingers downward. Without a shred of hesitation, you slid your hand past his elastic waistband, burying your fingers deep inside his sweatpants until you touched the bare rock hard base of his member.
Sam’s entire body violently jolted from the raw shock of the contact, his hand twitched fiercely and the entire handful of popcorn scattered, spilling right down the open collar of your tiny crop top, settling on the bare skin of your chest and in the valley between your breasts.
Sam looked down at the mess, his eyes turning completely predatory.
"Fuck! Now look what you made me do," he whispered, his jaw tight, all the playful teasing energy completely vanishing.
Before you could even move, Sam threw the popcorn bowl to the floor and slammed his hands down onto your waist, pinning you flat against the mattress and hovering over you.
He reached up to grip the hem of your crop top, slowly pulling the fabric down to expose your chest more. He stopped exactly halfway through your nipples, leaving the lower curves of your breasts framed by the fabric while showing off the sensitive skin right around them.
Lowering his head, his tongue slowly picked the kernels off your bare breasts, one by one. He took his entire torturous time as his tongue swiped heavy wet trails over your bare skin, licking you clean of the salt with starving strokes across your collarbone and the tops of your breasts before grazing the sensitive bare skin with his teeth.
"Sam… ah~..." you whimpered, your head throwing back into the pillow. You grabbed the bedsheets so hard, your hips helplessly arching off the bed as his mouth wrecked your chest. "Fuck... you're torturing me Sammy…”
"You like that baby?" He muttered against your skin, his tongue licking a stray piece of salt right off the swell of your breast. "You like being pinned down like a fuckin whore with your breast hanging out for me to play with? You want me to bite them harder? Want me to use my hands on them while I fuck you so hard for hours?"
"Stop being a fuckin tease and give me what I need!" You growled out, your voice a desperate frustrated gasp, arching your chest harder against his face to force him flush against your skin.
Without warning, his teeth sank hard into your breast, biting down with a punishing force that sent a sharp shock straight to your dripping cunt as a loud shameless scream broke from your lips. Before you could recover, he dragged his mouth up the sensitive line of your throat, leaving wet biting kisses all the way to the shell of your ear.
"I'm not losing this shit," he whispered, his voice a dirty rasp that sent a violent tremor through your body. "You can scream, you can beg, you can demand my dick all night, but I'm not gonna make you win.”
Sam abruptly sat straight back up against the headboard. He made no move to help pull the fabric of your crop top back up, leaving your chest completely exposed and flushed from his touch.
He simply fixed his eyes back on the TV screen as if nothing happened, a dark unhinged smirk plastered on his face.
"You're a fuckin sadist Sam! A total fuckin jerk!" You gasped out, your voice totally wrecked as you tried to catch your breath.
"Shhhh, keep your mouth shut and watch the movie," he murmured, his voice dripping with pure malice. "There's another sex scene coming... pay attention so you know how to take this cock properly when you beg for it like a good girl.”
You sat up against the headboard right next to him, refusing to give him the satisfaction of pulling your crop top back up. You pointedly stared at the TV screen, completely ignoring his smug face beside you.
Minutes later, your phone light flashed on the nightstand right next to Sam’s side of the bed, buzzing loudly with a notification. Sensing an opportunity to break his cool, you quickly hovered over his lap, stretching your arm across his chest to reach for it.
But Sam was faster, his arm shot out, snatching the phone before your fingers could touch it. He looked at you with a wicked challenging smirk and slowly slid the phone deep into his pocket, letting it rest flat against the side of his thigh right next to his massive throbbing erection.
"If you want it back, you have to come get it yourself."
"You think I won't?" You whispered, your voice thick with bold defiance. You shifted on the mattress to face him, leaning your weight completely into his space so your bare exposed chest was framed right in his line of sight as you slid your hand directly into his pocket.
As you grope downward for the phone, you don't just grab it, you moved your other hand from his outer thigh, placing it right over the thick burning ridge of his dick through the thin fabric just to steady yourself against him. Holding his gaze, you squeezed him firmly, your fingers slowly moving and shifting against his throbbing length, taking your absolute painful time.
Sam let out a sharp pathetic whimper, his head throwing back against the headboard as his jaw locked. "Fuck!... Stop please..."
"What's the matter Sammy?" You taunted, moving your hand in a slow brutal stroke over his cock through the sweats. "Thought you wanted me to come get it? It feels so hard in here, are you begging me?"
He snapped, his hand shooting down to catch your wrist in a grip of iron, his grip forced you to push even harder against his cock. You moved your hand against him, frictioning his pulsing cock exactly the way he wanted, driving him entirely over the edge.
“I can't take more teasing… fuck!” He panted, his voice deep, strained and totally wrecked. "You're being so bad tonight baby… you're torturing me."
You dropped the phone onto the nightstand, your gaze softening into something fiercely serious and intense as you look up at him. "If I don't trust you, I won't allow you in! So I trust you can take this much teasing."
Hearing those words, a sudden wave of panic flushed through Sam’s face. "Oh my god! No! I… I didn't mean that! I swear, I’d rather die than do anything without your consent, I… I just-"
You didn't let him finish, you shut him up completely by pulling him down into a deep bruising kiss. He wrapped his arms around your waist, violently yanking you up to straddle his lap completely.
The moment your bare crotch landed flat against the thick bulge of his hardness, a helpless needy moan escaped your lips. You fisted your fingers into his blond hair, pulling tightly to deepen the kiss, your tongue sliding into his mouth with hungry desperation.
"Fuck baby," Sam panted against your lips, his hands bruising your hips as he ground upward into you. "The game is over… I'm going to fuckin ruin you tonight."
"Shut up and do it," you screamed right back into his mouth, completely abandoning the movie as the storm howled outside.
His fingers dug violently into the bare skin of your hips, his grip firm enough to leave deep dark marks. He lifted your thighs slightly, hoisting you up just an inch before slamming your hips back down, punishingly hard right against his crotch.
"Ah!~... fuck Sam!" You let out a loud unraveled moan directly into his open mouth, your hips instinctively rolling in a desperate circle against his massive bulge.
Sam broke the kiss with a ragged choking gasp, his head dropping as he buried his face directly into the crook of your neck. He attacked your skin, biting and sucking hungrily at the sensitive cord of your throat, leaving dark bruising marks that you knew you'll have a hell of a time hiding tomorrow.
“You're killing me!” He whimpered, his chest heaving violently against yours as he gasped out against your wet skin. “You have no fuckin idea what you do to me… I’m losing my mind.”
You wrapped your fingers firmly into his damp hair, tugging sharply to force his face back up as you stared down into his blown out completely black pupils.
"Then do something about it Sammy," you challenged him, your voice a breathless commanding whisper that dripped with pure arousal. "Stop talking and show what you can do to a slut like me... use my body and fuck me as much as you want... please…"
He let out a rough growl that vibrated deep within his chest as he fisted his hands into the hem of your tiny crop top. With one impatient yank, he tore the fabric completely over your head and hurled it across the room.
His eyes instantly blew out as he looked at you completely bare from the waist up in the dim light of the TV, his gaze tracking the heavy rise and fall of your breasts. He leaned forward, his heavy frame driving you backward until you were laid flat on the bed beneath him. His tongue immediately slid down the length of your collarbone, dragging wet stripes over your chest.
He bit at your skin, licking his way down to the swells of your breasts with a desperate hunger until you were helplessly arching off the mattress, your hands gripping his shoulders for dear life as a needy whine broke from your lips.
He took one hardened nipple into his mouth, sucking it deeply, pulling the peak between his teeth and swirling his tongue around it in hot heavy strokes. At the same time, his hand cupped your other breast, his fingers pinching and twisting the nipple, rolling it firmly between his thumb and forefinger making your lower stomach violently twist with unbearable ache of need.
"Call yourself a slut again," he muttered roughly, pulling back just enough to look down at your undone face. "Tell me how much you need me to ruin you while I use you like this."
"I am... I'm your slut Sam," you sobbed out, completely unraveled under his weight. "Please... just ruin me! Use me however you want... I just need you to fuck me."
"Good girl," he whispered, a satisfied smirk stretching across his face. "I'm going to stretch that soaked pussy wide open and ruin you so hard you won't be able to walk straight for days."
Before you can even process the sheer heat of his words, he dropped his head back down to torture your nipples with renewed merciless aggression.
You arched violently against the sheets, a loud fractured scream of pure pleasure escaping your throat as he shifted his weight. He dropped his mouth to the other side, mercilessly devouring the second peak while his hand moved to match the rough heavy friction on the first.
"Sam… please... more!... Hahh!~... Give me more," you begged shamelessly, your voice thick and unraveled. You shifted your positioning, sliding your legs down to wrap them tightly around his thick thighs instead. You began to frantically grind right against the hard solid muscle of his thigh through his sweatpants. The friction was too much, a heavy desperate wave of pleasure started pooling in your lower stomach, bringing you dangerously close to a sudden dry humping climax.
You were right on the edge, the coil in your lower stomach tightening into that helpless pre orgasmic peak right on the verge of snapping, then, Sam suddenly pulled back completely.
It hit like ice water. You were left entirely stranded on the absolute precipice of a shattering climax, your core twitching emptily against nothing but cold air. The sudden brutal denial left you feeling physically sick with need, your nerve endings screaming for the heat that was just ripped away.
He sat straight up, his chest heaving, a wicked triumphant smirk breaking across his flushed face.
"You asshole! You absolute dick!" You gasped out, completely losing your mind from the sheer frustration. You helplessly thrashed your legs against him, your heels landing weak exhausted blows against whatever you could reach.
Sam just let out a chuckle, grabbing your ankles in a grip of iron. He yanked your legs apart, forcing your thighs wide open on the mattress, pinning you into a completely vulnerable exposed position. He began to kiss his way up your bare thighs, his lips agonizingly slow and warm. He moved higher and higher until he reached the edge of your shorts.
He pressed his mouth right against the soaking wet cotton of your shorts, purposefully kissing down hard right over the throbbing swollen peak of your clit.
You let out a loud whine, your hands fisting the duvet as the damp friction drove you insane, but he pulled away again, trailing his hot lips right up your bare midriff, kissing the soft skin of your stomach until you were trembling, before he suddenly dropped back down to face the final barrier.
Sam was handling you like a man possessed now, his hands hooking firmly into the waistband of your shorts. He slid the fabric down your legs slowly as his eyes locked entirely onto your face.
Once you were completely bare on the sheets, he began kissing your inner thighs again, his teeth biting gently into the sensitive skin as he moved higher and higher toward your soaking wet cunt, torturing you until he finally reached exactly where you wanted him the most.
The second his tongue locked onto your swollen clit, all your control completely shattered. You let out a loud raw, completely pornographic scream that echoed loudly over the roar of the apocalyptic rain lashing against the window.
He used his fingers to ruthlessly stretch your slick soaked folds wide open, pinning you exposed beneath him before he dived deep into your wet entrance. His tongue moved with a heavy relentless starving pace, lapping upward in long firm strokes that started deep within your entrance and dragged all the way up to flatten against your pulsing clit.
"You taste so fuckin good baby... so fuckin intoxicating," he growled, his hot breath sending unbearable electric shivers straight down your spine. "You like that yeah? You love it baby?"
"Yes!... Sam… I'm gonna cum," you sobbed out, your hands flying down to bury your fingers deep into his blonde hair, alternatively trying to pull him closer and push him away as the pleasure became too intense to survive. "Please… I can't take it… just let me cum!"
"So needy… so good for me baby," he muttered against your flesh, utterly unhinged as he ruthlessly escalated the friction.
Without a shred of gentleness, he drove two long fingers deep inside your soaking tight entrance, pumping them in a hard upward angle that hooked against your sweetest spot. At the exact same time, his tongue completely wrecked your clit, swirling in rapid perfect circles that drove you completely over the absolute edge.
Your hips violently lifted entirely off the mattress, arching toward his face in a desperate involuntary bid for release. Your inner walls clamped down in a tight grip, milking his buried fingers as a fractured breathless sob escaped your throat.
You screamed his name into the empty room, shattering into a hard, loud and soaking orgasm right against his mouth. The world completely whiteouts as your body violently quaked, and Sam didn't slow down for even a fraction of a second. He relentlessly devoured your climax, swallowing your wetness and using his tongue to catch every single desperate pulse of your release.
You were completely consumed by the heat radiating off him, the friction was so harsh, so blindingly intense that your skin is burning, but you don't care.
You want more, you need more.
You reached down, your fingers fisting desperately into his damp blond hair, pushing his head down harder against your soaking wetness.
"M-more… Sam p-please... more," you sobbed out, your voice totally broken and trembling from the aftershocks. Your hips twitched helplessly under his face as your body continued to quake. "Don't you dare... stop! Fuck... please... give me more... I n-need it Sammy... p-please.”
Sam let out a low muffled grunt against your skin, his hands gripping the undersides of your thighs to hold you still. He was entirely intoxicated by your desperation, his own chest heaving as he took in the sight of you unraveling beneath him.
He didn't back off for a second, he drove his fingers back inside your slick tight cunt, pumping them in a heavy ruthless rhythm that makes a loud wet slapping sound fill the room. His tongue went entirely feral on your clit, lapping at you in wide, heavy and wet strokes that completely saturated his jaw and chin with your liquid.
"Look at you," he growled out, his fingers stretching your entrance open as he struck your sweet spot again and again. "You're a dirty pathetic thing aren't you baby? You can’t get enough of my tongue yeah? Just a desperate little slut begging me to keep eating your cunt while you lay here shaking."
"Yes… ah!~... Yes Sam… please… harder!"
Every filthy word he threw at you made you cry out louder. You tilted your head back into the pillow, screaming into the empty room, your voice echoing over the lashing rain outside.
"Scream for me louder," he commanded roughly, his fingers curling inside you to hook against your g spot, making your inner walls violently twitch around his hand. "You love being ruined like this don't you? Tell me how good my tongue feels baby. Tell me."
"It's… s-so good… AHH!~... fuck Sammy… you're… r-ruining me," you wailed out, your hands leaving his hair to grip the bedsheets until your knuckles turned stark white.
You were completely drunk on the way he was moving, your hips blindly bucked up against his mouth as his fingers stretched your wet entrance wide. The friction built a second, even more violent wave of heat in your lower stomach, the pressure coiling so tight it made you gasp for air.
"Sam! I'm gonna… I'm cumming again!... AH-AHH!~... SAM!" You screamed out, your voice pitching high and frantic as you tried to escape the intensity, but his hands held your thighs in a grip of iron.
"Cum for me baby," he growled out, his tongue striking your clit in a fast punishing rhythm. "Take it all. Soak my fucking face."
Before you could even catch your breath, the climax hit, violently shattering whatever control you had left. You let out a loud wrecked scream as your walls violently clamped down around his fingers, your entire body stiffening as you shattered for the second time right against his face.
Sam didn't slow down, he rode out the entire climax with his mouth, swallowing your screams and pressing his tongue hard against your pulsing clit, driving the pleasure out until you finally collapsed back onto the bed.
He slowly pulled his glistening fingers out of your twitching cunt, the wet squelch echoing in the quiet room. He sat up slightly, his face completely flushed, eyes black and his lips shining with your moisture. Slowly, he slid his fingers right into his own mouth, licking them completely clean. His eyes never broke contact with yours as he sucked them dry and swallowed you down.
"So fuckin sweet," he rasped, his voice totally ruined and gravelly. "You taste incredible."
He dropped his head back down between your trembling thighs to clean you up, refusing to let a single drop go to waste. He swiped his tongue in heavy damp circles over your inner thighs and your outer folds, licking up every stray trail of moisture while you whimpered, still oversensitized from the back to back orgasms.
Finally, he pressed his mouth flat against your entrance and forcefully pushed his tongue straight inside your soft stretched cunt, making sure he got every single drop of your fluid until you were left completely empty, breathless and entirely undone beneath him.
Sam slowly crawled back up the mattress, his heavy frame hovering over yours as he left a trail of hot wet kisses against whatever skin his mouth could find. He kissed the soft slope of your stomach, the sensitive skin of your ribs and the center of your chest, making you shiver and twitch beneath him. By the time he reached your chin, you were panting, your hands reaching up to grip his shoulders.
He pinned your wrists beside your head and locked his mouth over yours. The second his tongue slid into your mouth, a breathless gasp broke from your throat. He was forcing you to taste yourself on his tongue, the sharp sweet flavor of your own moisture filling your senses.
It was intoxicating, a filthy reminder of exactly what he had just done to you. He sucked on your tongue, deepening the kiss until your heads rolled back against the pillows, the wet slaps of your lips echoing over the thunder.
Finally, Sam broke the kiss by just a fraction of an inch, his forehead resting against yours as his chest heaved violently. His eyes were completely blown out, staring into yours with unadulterated desperation.
"I can't... fuck! I can't take it anymore," he gasped out, his voice a broken rasp. "I wanna be inside right now! It's so painful. Help me? Please?"
A wicked triumphant thrill shot through your veins. You gave him a slow hooded look, nodding as you slickly slid out from under him.
Sam was shaking so violently from the built up tension that his hands fumbled pathetically against the drawstring you had tied earlier. He groaned in frustration, finally hooking his fingers into the waistband of his grey sweatpants and shoving them down his legs, kicking them off his ankles.
He lay flat on his back, and your breath instantly caught. His hard cock stood completely straight, pulsing heavily and already glistening with precum. His abdominal muscles flexed tight as he watched you step over him.
You didn't hurry, you straddled his hips, hovering right over his heat, letting the tip of his pulsing cock brush against your soaking wet folds.
"You like looking at me from down there Sammy?" You taunted softly, leaning forward so your bare breasts dangled just out of reach of his mouth.
"Yes! Fuck… look at you," Sam groaned, his hands instantly shooting up to cup your breasts, his thumbs roughly flicking your hardened nipples. "You look like a goddess. Don't make me wait doll… please… put it inside like a good girl."
You slowly lowered yourself down, the sensation was immediate and overwhelming as you took every single agonizing inch of him, your tight cunt stretching wide to accommodate his thick burning length. A loud high moan tore from your lips as you sank all the way down until your pelvis slammed against his hips, completely burying his cock inside you.
Sam’s eyes were completely blown out, his jaw locked in pure ecstasy as his hands gripped your waist, anchoring you down.
"Fuck, you're so tight... you're clamping down on my dick so hard baby," he panted out, his hips giving a small desperate twitch upward. "Ride me doll… show me how much you wanted this… please show me."
You controlled the depth, deliberately tilting your pelvis forward to roll your hips in deep slow agonizing circles. Every time you moved, his hard cock rubbed perfectly against your oversensitized clit, making your vision go blurry. You leaned down, crashing your lips back onto his, refusing to let him breathe. Your tongues tangled in a sloppy wet rhythm while your hips kept grinding down on him.
When your lips finally parted for air, Sam didn't let you get away. He instantly buried his face into your neck, his teeth biting firmly into the soft skin of your shoulder.
You picked up the pace, shifting from slow rolls to hard relentless vertical bounces. The wet slapping sound of your skin hitting his hips filled the room, competing with the howling wind outside. You lifted yourself up high, almost pulling completely off his cock, before slamming yourself back down, taking all of him over and over again.
"Sam… hahh!~... It's too much!" You screamed out, your voice cracking as the friction built into a blinding suffocating peak.
Sam’s hands flew from your waist back to your breasts, squeezing them roughly, his thumbs rubbing your nipples as he pulled his head back to look at you, his face completely flushed. "Don't stop! Look at me while you take it doll... come on! Cum for me baby!"
Your body bucked as the climax tore through you like a live wire, leaving every nerve ending fried and shivering. Your inner walls clamped down around his throbbing cock in tight violent spasms as you groaned his name out loud, your head throwing back as your body violently trembled.
But Sam gave you absolutely no time to recover, his primal unhinged need had completely taken over. Before you could even draw a full breath, his hands gripped your waist with bruising force. He shifted you effortlessly, rolling you over and hauling you up onto your hands and knees in one swift dominant motion.
In less than a second, he fisted the hem of his old band shirt and ripped it over his head, discarding it onto the floor, dropping his frame down flush against your back.
He pinned you down, chest to spine, crushing you beneath his scorching weight. His large hands instantly locked with yours, intertwining his long fingers between your own and slamming your hands flat against the mattress, trapping you completely.
"Sam… nghh!~... Wait!... I'm…" Your voice broke, completely muffled by the sheets.
He didn't wait, he aligned his throbbing dick and drove straight into your cunt from behind, buried completely to the hilt in one hard deep merciless thrust.
"SAM AHHH!~..." You shrieked into the pillow, your back arching violently as your oversensitized entrance stretched around his full width. The sheer depth of it made your vision instantly blur.
Sam let out a low guttural groan right into the crook of your neck, his lips wet and feral as he began biting and kissing your shoulder blade and neck, leaving fresh dark marks. The pacing he set was immediately brutal, fast and entirely unhinged.
"You're a little slut you know that?" He panted heavily into your ear, his voice a gravelly rasp that sent a violent shiver down your spine. He pulled his cock back out nearly all the way before driving back into your wet cunt, the heavy slap of his hips against your backside echoing over the thunder. "You want it harder yeah? Look how open you are for my dick... take all of it doll."
"Sammy… please… it's too… ah-ahh!~..." You whimpered, your broken words entirely cut off by your loud high pitched moans. You tried to push back against him, but he was an immovable wall of muscle pinning you to the bed.
He let out a dark proud chuckle against your skin, entirely satisfied by your total breakdown. He tightened his grip on your intertwined fingers, pinning your hands even harder into the sheets as he delivered the final brutal stretch of deep punishing thrusts.
"Yeah? You're so beautiful like this, you know that?" Sam growled out, his voice a rough, thick string of heavy praise that scraped against your ear. His hips didn't slow down for a fraction of a second, hammering a relentless brutal rhythm, hitting your sweet spot with terrifying accuracy. "Tell me you're my desperate little slut... say it baby."
"I am… ngh!~... I'm yours Sammy… fuck… harder! Please!" You wail, completely unraveled, your face buried in the sweat soaked sheets as you whimpered and gasped for air.
"That's it doll… squeeze me… squeeze me hard," he gasped, his breathing turning entirely frantic, his chest violently thudding against your spine. "I'm close! Fuck… I'm gonna fill you up so good baby!"
Within seconds, the brutal pacing reached its breaking point. Sam let out a loud groan that tore from his throat, his hips slamming into you one last time as he locked his cock deep inside you. He came hard, his erect dick pulsing violently as he released a thick blistering torrent of cum deep within you.
The sudden intense shock of his climax was too much for your overstimulated body to handle, triggering a massive orgasm without you even having to move. Your inner walls clamped down in violent helpless spasms around his pulsing length, ruthlessly milking every single drop of his release as your vision went completely white.
Both of you cried out together into the darkness, your voices mingling with the howling storm outside as Sam shudders violently against your back, his heavy frame collapsing completely onto you, holding you trapped and soaking in the aftermath of the shared climax.
The thick suffocating heat in the room settled like a physical weight as Sam slowly began to slide his thick length out of you. He was panting hard, his chest heaving against your back, his muscles slick with sweat.
But the sudden sensation of him emptying your cunt left a desperate agonizing void. You weren't done, the unhinged friction had completely broken your mind, leaving you entirely addicted to his weight.
You violently twisted your head around into the pillow fisting the sweat soaked bedsheets until your knuckles turned white, a broken needy whimper tearing from your throat. "No... ah!~... no… don't pull out Sammy... I need more… please..."
Sam froze, his eyes locked onto you as a dangerous predatory smirk pulled at his lips. Instead of pulling away, he hooked his hands under your waist, effortlessly turning your trembling body around on the mattress until you were lying flat on your back, staring right up into his feral gaze.
Before you could even gasp, he locked his mouth over yours, devouring your lips with a fierce rough hunger. He slammed his hips forward, burying his thick cock all the way to the hilt back inside your sensitive entrance, moving inside you again with a brutal unrelenting depth that made your whole body shake.
You tried to scream from the sheer blinding intensity of his dick bottoming out inside you, but your frantic cries were muffled directly into his mouth as he completely refused to break the kiss. He swallowed your high needy sobs, his tongue deep in your throat while his groin hammered a relentless rhythm into yours.
When he finally ripped his mouth away to draw a ragged breath, a string of saliva stretched between your lips. He didn't give you a single second to recover, he grabbed both of your wrists in a single grip, pinning your arms high above your head against the mattress, rendering you completely helpless beneath his heavy frame.
"Look at you," he whispered, his voice a gravelly, demeaning rasp that vibrated right down to your core as he drove his hips down harder. "You are such a pathetic little bitch aren't you? My cum is dripping out of you and you're still whimpering for more?"
"Yes… hnnn~... Sammy… yes!... I'm your... oh fuck… ah!~... your slut… please..." you wailed out, your broken sentence completely fractured by heavy loud moans.
"You're just a pathetic thing," Sam groaned, his thrusts becoming completely wild, the wet messy slaps of your bodies filling the room. He buried his cock so deeply, bottoming out with such violence that a visible tight little bulge pushed out against the soft skin of your lower stomach with every single strike.
Sam released your wrists, took your trembling hand and forcefully pushed your palm flat down against your own lower stomach, forcing you to feel the hard blunt shape of his cockhead stretching you out from the inside.
"Look what I'm doing to you whore," he degraded you heavily, his hips delivering a brutal fast sequence of strokes that made your hand move over the shifting bulge. "Feel how deep my dick is? Feel how hard you're stretching around me? You're completely ruined for anyone else baby… tell me… tell me whose cock is stretching your little stomach right now?"
"Yours… ah-ah-ahh!... it's yours Sammy!.. fuck!... it's... mhm!... s’good," you screamed out, your head thrashing wildly against the sheets, your vision going entirely white from the overwhelming pleasure crashing over your cunt.
Sam’s breathing turned into a series of harsh ragged gasps, his jaw locked in pure agony as his hips hammered into you with everything he had left. "Good fuckin girl… I'm gonna cum… fuck baby!... I'm cumming again!... FUCK!"
The way Sam was moving so fast and driving so incredibly hard was too much to survive, the punishing speed of his thrusts completely broke your body, forcing you straight into a shattering climax. Your inner walls clamped down tight around his throbbing cock in violent suffocating spasms, ruthlessly tightening on him and milking his length dry.
Sam let out a loud screaming growl that ripped from his chest, he slammed his pelvis flat against yours, locking his hips deep as he unloaded a second massive load of seed deep inside you. He didn't stop moving, even as he orgasmed he kept grinding his hips in heavy desperate circles, dragging your climax out, forcing his length deep to make sure he fucked every single drop into you as deeply as physically possible.
Sam instantly crashed his mouth back down onto yours in a messy, wet and sloppy kiss, your tongues tangling desperately while you both sobbed and gasped for air into each other’s mouths. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he fisted his hands into your hair, pulling each other closer, tighter, trying to fuse your bodies together as the storm howled outside, leaving you both completely spent, sticky and drowning in each other's heat.
You were completely tangled in the messy wet sheets, your bare skin sticking to his as both of your chests rose and fell in a heavy rhythm. The absolute exhaustion hit you like a wave, leaving your limbs feeling like lead, but a profound warmth had settled deep in your core.
Sam slowly shifted, his arms wrapping securely around your waist as he pulled you flush against his bare chest. He tucked you securely beneath his chin, molding your smaller frame into his heat. He leaned down, his lips pressing a soft lingering kiss right into the crown of your head, his chest vibrating against yours as he let out a long shuddering exhale.
For a long time, the only sound in the room was the howling wind and your matching slow breathing. Then, Sam let out a low breathless chuckle, his voice completely raw and raspy from all the groaning.
"So..." he murmured, his thumb lazily tracing a slow soothing circle against the bare skin of your hip. "Who won the game?"
You let out a soft tired giggle, completely spent and entirely unraveled, but your playful spirit was far from broken. You lazily lifted your arm and swatted his shoulder with a weak hand.
"Your mom," you whispered into the dark room.
Sam burst out laughing, a loud genuine sound that brought the sweet boyish skater boy right back into the room, obliterating the unhinged dominance from moments ago. He squeezed your waist tightly, burying his face in your neck as his shoulders shook with amusement.
"Yeah alright," he murmured softly, his voice full of pure affection as he leaned down, pressing a soft, incredibly sweet kiss to your lips, completely devoid of the previous roughness, just warm and deeply content. "Whatever you say gorgeous."
“You feel the bulge in his pants” - implies that you are feeling some guy’s penis, may be sexy depending on context
“You feel the bugle in his pants” - implies that this guy has a military horn in his pants, invites confusing questions like why does he have that and how big are his pockets
always such a struggle when you get to the sex scene part of the fic you're writing and you're not horny at all. i don't know. their things were touching. without ANY underwear. the end.
first you gotta do the build up and then the actual fucking and the fucking is pretty easy but you never know how long the fucking should last, and eventually you're like "okay I'm tired of this" so the characters cum, but you're not done yet because you can't just end it at "he fucking nutted everywhere" you gotta keep going, and the characters have to chat a little or cry or think about how horrible they are or something and then you kinda don't know when to end that either so now you're 2k words in and you might have put too much self hatred and not enough sucking dick. so you wrap it up, and think well it's done now.
or sometimes you have it all perfect in your mind and you knock the whole thing out in 2 to 3 hours.
first you gotta do the build up and then the actual fucking and the fucking is pretty easy but you never know how long the fucking should last, and eventually you're like "okay I'm tired of this" so the characters cum, but you're not done yet because you can't just end it at "he fucking nutted everywhere" you gotta keep going, and the characters have to chat a little or cry or think about how horrible they are or something and then you kinda don't know when to end that either so now you're 2k words in and you might have put too much self hatred and not enough sucking dick. so you wrap it up, and think well it's done now.
or sometimes you have it all perfect in your mind and you knock the whole thing out in 2 to 3 hours.
I was in the worst mental state possible for so goddamn long because of a server I've been on and I didn't wanna leave it because I didn't wanna be mean and my first step of fixing my mental health was leaving and holy hell I've never felt this unadulterated relief for so long!!!!!
I love my sister so much because she's the one who noticed how bad I looked and when I talked to her she was so wise and made me open my eyes on so many toxic things that was literally suffocating me when she read some stuff
I put a read more because I'm gonna vent about it for a bit and I'm gonna mention some of my mental illnesses so tw :)
I'm not gonna mention the name of the server or anything that can give it away because no matter what, I have to respect them.
I always felt watched and judged because of how strict the rules were "mind you I have scopophobia" and I've always been very anxious to break them because the message they send to tell someone about it, is so fuckin scary and makes me cry everytime for how stressed it makes me, even though it wasn't something bad!!! But the way it was so formal and so long, it made me feel like I made an unspeakable crimes!!
It got to the point that I decided to read the rules before sending every single message, yet I kept making mistakes and the way I felt so bad about how dumb I am now because of how bipolar fucks the brain and damage it, and I remember how smart I was like 2 years ago and I sob for literal hours!!!!! I'm a doctor!!!! Do you know how hard it is to feel dumb after years of being the smartest person you know?
AND THE WAY IT TRIGGERED ME EVERY TIME!!!!!!!! It was always like "you said this and it might trigger someone" MIGHT????? YOU TRIGGERED MY AWFUL ANXIETY AND YOU'RE BLAMING ME FOR "MIGHT"??????? I really don't understand how the hell I stayed there for so long, I should've left since the first time they made me cry. It was NEVER fuckin worth it!!!!!
The last time was the time that made my mental health this horrendous. It was when I shared a BOOKMARK on the vent channel, it was about someone saying that a fic that I really like was bad or something like that and I was sobbing then. And as I said, I read the rules before sending ANY message so the rules said something like "do not share bad COMMENTS" so I said ok and just sent it seeking anyone to just advice me with anything on how to deal with this because I was so close to delete everything I ever wrote and guess what?
It somehow broke the rules and I got called ignorant because "someone might go and harass this person" WHAT? It's a bookmark!!!! You can NOT reply to a bookmark on AO3!!!!! I was literally told that "they cannot allow this hurtful pattern of ignorance of rules to continue" even though I've read the rules hours from this exact same message!!!!
And the way I felt dumb and stupid for not understanding that this includes bookmarks too that I literally punished myself with not eating for that day because of how horrible my mind is ughhhhh
There was also something that I won't mention what exactly it is but look at this
And the way I always supported everyone there (I do not regret it and never will) and I never got like 10% of this support 😶 I remember there was an event and you're supposed to comment on some of the fics in this event to support each other and guess what I did? I felt bad for commenting on some and leave some so I read every single one of them and commented on all of them!!!! And guess how many commented on mine? 2!!!!!!! I appreciate them both so much but the way I was hurt omg!!!!!
It is something that works with chosing names randomly for something and this is the exact date I submitted my name, and I was so excited for it but why did it take so damn long??? I saw people who joined like 2 days before submitting their names and they got chosen but why did my name took so long? And it wasn't like that it was choosing from 50 names or something, it was always 2-4 names including mine and it never chose my name?
Everytime I talked about this I get told that it was 100% on purpose, but why? Seriously if it was on purpose, wtf did I do to deserve this???? 4 months and my name was never choosing out of 4 names? And even if it didn't actually choose me, why no one thought about "oh Merc has been waiting for this for so long and the app didn't pick her name so let's choose her this week so she went feel upset about it" I'll never understand what the fuck did I do, but I'll never forgive anyone who made me sad on purpose because holy hell I feel so bullied because of this
IT WAS THE FIC I WROTE FOR MY BIRTHDAY!!!!!!! I CRIED FOR HOURS ON MY BIRTHDAY AND I NEVER TALKED ABOUT IT BECAUSE I DIDN'T WANNA BE CALLED SELFISH!!!!!!!! ON MY BIRTHDAY!!!!!!!! I THOUGHT THEY WERE GONNA LEAVE COMMENTS FOR ME BECAUSE IT'S MY MOTHER FUCKIN BIRTHDAY AND THEY DIDN'T!!!!!!! I don't regret reading or commenting on any of them though but omg I felt HORRIBLE then because my mind kept telling me that I'm an awful writer and that's why they hate me ughhhhhhhhhh I hate my brain
Also what made me leave and not just keep it there was the use of AI gifs because "it's funny" even though I talked multiple times about how anything made with AI scares me so bad and how unsettling and creepy it looks and no one did anything, but when I joked once about schizophrenia because that's how I cope with it because it's so fuckin hard to be diagnosed with mother fuckin schizophrenia from this very young age of mine? I was blamed because "it might trigger someone" even though I'm the one with this horrifying illness so why the fuck would you remind me that I have it in a way that also triggers my anxiety? That's so mean! And I understand that it's nobody's fault that I have it, but at least be understandable and mindful!!
I'm never gonna try to make friends or socialize or any of that again!!!! I'm completely DONE!!!! I'm extremely autistic, disabled and I have anxiety AND bipolar!!!!!! My kitties are enough for me, they love me and support me and bully me but accept their bullying!!!!
I felt so bullied on this server and I never noticed it until my sister told me about how she felt that they care about mental health only in keeping everything strict, but they never cared about mine. How the fuck was I this blind!!!!! They always said that they care about the ones who are Neurodivergent but when it came to me? They never cared!! Why? I'm so glad I left this toxic server, I wish them all the best, but they can enjoy it away from me.
I'm 26, my pronouns are she/they, and I'm just a lil gay.
My astrology signs!
☀️-♉Taurus
⬆️-♏Scorpio
🌙-♋Cancer
My interests include, but are not limited to, the following!
🎮 Games 🎮
Stardew Valley
Minecraft
Left 4 Dead 2
Skyrim
Assassins Creed Oddessy
Animal Crossing
Red Dead Redemption 2
Peak
Fallout 4
Palia
Project Zomboid
Jurassic World Evolution 3
📖 Books 📖
Twilight Saga (don’t judge me)
The Lunar Chronicles
ACOTAR Series
Red, White & Royal Blue
The Fiancée Farce
Game Changer
Current Read: Heated Rivalry
📺 Movies and Shows I Love 📺
Bob's Burgers
K-Pop Demon Hunters
CSI
Criminal Minds
Kitchen Nightmares
Ouran High School Host Club
Disney Movies
And there is so much more I can't think of in each category! I’m also always happy to take recommendations
I write fanfic!
Here is where you can find a list of all my Stardew Valley fics I have on AO3.
Here is a direct link to my works! I'm starting to dabble in other fandoms as well.
It's monthly fic recommendation time again! Here are the latest the guild has to offer. Some are ongoing wips, some completed longfics, and some oneshots. As always be sure to check the tags on AO3, reader discretion is advised! If you check out any of the works listed here please be sure to leave a kudos and a comment to show your support 🫶 Fics listed with the 🔒 will need an AO3 account to read.
Wait Until Golden Hour by @hullygeee | T | Gen (1/1)
Blowing Off Steam by @sunwornink | E | Sam/Sebastian/F Player (1/1)
The Valley by @half-unread | E | Shane/F Player (30/30)
── ꫂ᭪ would you ever come down by @burekforsatoru | E | Sebastian/F Player (1/1)
Would You Still Love Me If I Were a Jingle Bell? by @annetastic1981a | G | Sam/Sebastian (1/1)
so gorgeous by @just-jellyfishing | E | Elliott/Emily (1/1)
Safe harbor by @eemamminy-art | E | Alex/M Player (1/1)
Here For You by @orangemochafrapp | M | Gen (Sebastian-centric) (30/?)
Here in the Hereafter by @adequateatbest | M | Harvey/F Player (13/?)
Little Black Book: #37 by @spooky-tia | E | Harvey/F Player (3/?)
Holding Back, Holding On by @kellycataclysm | E | Harvey/F Player (1/2)
How the Turns Have Tabled by @f0xofspades | E | Shane/F Player (1/1)
A Rainy Night In by @someacedude | G | Harvey/Maru/NB Player (1/1)
be our muse by @futureamphibian | E | Elliott/Haley/Leah (1/1)
Don't Make a Sound (Sam Stardew Valley) by @mercurymk | E | Sam/F Player (1/1)
It's a love story, baby just say yes by @mintypegasus | E | Sam/Sebastian (7/7)
Changes: Transitions by @caelwynn | E | Sterling/F Player (3/63)
A Surprising Reunion by @greatdistractions | T | Sam/Sebastian (2/2)
When You Wish Upon a Witch by @sophieknight | T | Gen (2/?) **Crossover with Coral Island
Fragments of a Song by @halixius | T | Sam/Sebastian (7/7)
Sun Moon Magic by @pinkiepixels | E | Elliott/Wizard (3/3)
Of Fiddleheads and Blueberry Wine by @astellus | E | Leah/F Player (1/1)
