#mr. reed

[phantom-evil]

[princessrhcenyra]

HERETIC (2024)

The Hollies filed a plagiarism lawsuit against Radiohead, which they later settled by proving that the melody and rhythm of The Air That I Breathe appear in Creep. How old are you? 19 or 20? Something like that. Okay. So maybe you know Lana Del Rey, who remarkably was sued by Radiohead for plagiarizing Creep in her 2017 song Get Free. Iterations. Over time. Diluting the message. Obscuring the original.

[caffeinatedmunchkin]

You are here because the ideas of others have influenced every single decision you've made since the day you were born, and I've been able to predict every decision you would make tonight because of that.

Heretic (2024) dir. Scott Beck & Bryan Woods

[cenomatic]

meow

[klovercrown]

Stripped ~ Mr. Reed X Reader ~Smut~(18+)

Warnings: Older man/younger woman (mid 20s), rough sex, unprepared anal, fingering, choking, corruption, humiliation

--------------------------------------------------

A/N: Ayo! First time writing for Mr. Reed and i wanted to do a lil something for Valentines (Happy Valentines day btw).

He might be OOC (I wanted him to be a lil mean 🤭) grammar and writing might be off, but i hope y'all enjoy <3

Tell me, my dear... have you ever been touched by a man?"

Caught off guard by his sudden question, you lost your grip on the handle of the teacup of chamomile he made for you. The warm liquid spilled onto your button-up shirt, the lap of your black skirt, and onto the carpet next to your feet. Fortunately, the cup didn't shatter to pieces due to the cushion from the rug. You blushed from embarrassment, picking the teacup up from the ground and profuse apologies leaving your lips.

Mr. Reed only let out a chuckle, picking up a handkerchief from the coffee table to clean the mess. "Apologies, my dear. A reaction like that is expected from a strange man asking out of line. Terribly sorry." He brushed it off, still playing the nice old man act while his gaze lingered on your chest.

The tea seeped through the material of your shirt; the outline of your bra was visible. A low chuckle emitted from him, sending a shiver through your body along with the lingering arousal between your legs.

"Now look what I did...." He tsked, gently grabbing the teacup from your hands to set it aside. You sat up straight and still, swallowing with a dry throat. "I... I'm sorry for spilling that, Mr. Reed. It's just your question—

"Made you uncomfortable? Say no more, Sister (L/N). It was quite rude of me to inquire about something as personal as one's sexual history. Allow me." He insists as he gently dabs the stain on your shirt, his fingers brushing against the top of your breast through the napkin.

You flinched from his touch but didn't pull away, catching the small cheeky grin appearing on his face from your reaction. "There, there, no need to cry over spilled tea." He chuckled at his joke, eyeing you for a reaction but was only met with you in an anxious state. "Tough crowd."

As soon as he pulls the cloth away from your shirt, you smooth your clothes and stand up. "I appreciate your hospitality and time, but I—" Your shaky words trailed off, unsure of what to say that wouldn't anger or set him off in any way. You stood there frozen, anxiously fidgeting with the fabric of your skirt. He gave you his tight-lipped smile, dropping the handkerchief. "Let me ask... Sister (L/N)..." He asked, taking a step closer, which made you cower away and take a step back.

"....You didn't move away when a complete stranger touched your chest; why is that?" He said with a sinister chuckle, adjusting his thin-framed glasses. Mr. Reed's words filled you with confusion and embarrassment, wondering where this man gets off probing you with these types of questions.

You swallowed once more, struggling to find the words. "I...I don't know what you want me to say, Mr. Reed. I was panicked and caught off guard by your question..." You stumbled over your words and hugged your arms around yourself, feeling your heart start to pound against your chest.

He watched you with a hint of satisfaction at you struggling under his gaze. "Panicked? Caught off guard?" He politely ponders before stepping closer to you, within arm's length. "My dear....forgive me, but I don't buy those poor excuses for a second."

He was so rude, antagonizing, conceited, and damn...his words just turned you on more and more. Your eyes hesitate to meet his, regretting as soon as his grin grows. There is an aggressive blush spread on your cheeks, and you struggled to maintain eye contact with him.

You couldn't help but blush harder as he took a couple more steps towards you, invading your personal space. Your back hit the wall; you felt a hint of anticipation as he stared down at you. You stare down, looking down at your heaving chest to avert his gaze.

"Sister (L/N), is there a reason my question is causing you such discomfort? You're trembling…" He says as he grazes his hand along your arm, making you flutter your eyes closed from the feeling. "...you still didn't answer, Sister." He said in a teasing tone, which made you snap your gaze back up at him. "No, I've never been touched before." You firmly answered, hoping it would satisfy whatever sick, curious thoughts he had lingering in his mind.

"You haven't. Well, that doesn't explain why you allowed me to touch you. You like the feeling, don't you?" He questioned, bringing a hand up to fidget with a lock of your hair. You jumped from his touch but didn't pull away, finding yourself enjoying the feeling of his hand stroking your hair.

"Your silence is all the confirmation I need, Sister (L/N)." He says while leaning into your personal space, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. A whine leaves your lips, overwhelmed by his lewd questions and touching. "Have you ever touched yourself?" He asks in a hushed tone, attempting to push your boundaries and overwhelm you further.

You bite your bottom lip. "Mr. Reed..." It came out in a pleading tone; you glanced up at him with beckoning eyes. "Use your words, Sister (L/N)..." He sternly tells you, his hands sliding down the side of your arms, then gripping your elbows. You nod. "Yes, I have touched myself."

He hummed in satisfaction, releasing your arms and then stepping back to the corridor. You stand frozen, unsure of what to do, until you hear the snap of his fingers, beckoning you to follow him.

Despite this terrifying situation you find yourself in, your feet led you to him. He looks pleased with your, lack of a better word, decision to walk with him down the dark corridor. He led you into what looked to be a home church, office, or study. With many bookshelves, a desk with wooden figurines, religious idols, etc.

"Now...." He starts, "...if you wish to leave, I am not stopping you, and your coat is right there." He gestures to the coat rack in the corner of the room. "However, if you choose to stay, I won't disappoint..." He says in a low tone, causing you to feel weak in the legs. After a deafening silence, you nod.

He smiles, "Excellent, now take off your clothes." He casually tells you, causing that tingling sensation to come back but close to unbearable. Your hands move to unbutton your tea-stained shirt, letting it drop to the ground. You wore nothing but a white bra underneath, leaving just your skirt. As you fidget with the hem of your skirt, you steal glances of him watching. He displayed the stoic expression he kept, but you could see he was containing himself from ravishing you.

As soon as your skirt drops to the ground, leaving you in just your bra and panties, he pins you against the edge of his desk. It happened so fast, you didn't have time to reach his warm lips smashing against yours. Whines and moans escape you, your body reacting from the touch and the taste of a man for the first time, and fuck, did you love it. His hands wandered along your body, from caressing your waist to groping your ass. "Fuck..." You mumble against his lips, which caused him to pull away.

"Bend over the desk." He tells you, taking off his glasses and slipping them in the pocket of his sweater. You obey, turning around and leaning forward while grabbing onto the edge. Fear and anticipation consumed you as his hand pulled at the waistband of your panties, yanking them down your legs. Mr. Reed's hands run along her calves, hips, and to your ass. "Now....I know you're a virgin; I must warn you I can get a little carried away—" "It's fine! Please use me!" You pleaded, even surprising yourself with this newfound lustful behavior. You have only secretly looked at adult magazines and masturbated, but this was new and exciting to you.

A low groan escapes him, squeezing your right buttock. "Dirty girl..." he whispers before bringing his hand down to swat you on the rear, causing you to yelp and jump from the blow. He chuckles, stroking the spot tenderly. You feel his fingers draw near to your pussy; you gasp as soon as they touch your folds. "You're sopping wet..." he says as he shoves his digits inside of you, drawing out moans and pleas from you.

He pumped his fingers inside of you, using his other hand to grip onto your left buttock, his thumb probing your tight ring. It was so foreign to you; it felt so uncomfortable but blurred with the feeling of him finger-fucking you. Overstimulated from his fingering and teasing, you throw your head back. "Please...please fuck me!" You beg, only to have him ram his fingers deep to silence you. He gently shushed you, his warm lips pressing kisses and nips at the nape of your neck. "Now now, my dear....Patience is a virtue.'" Slipping his fingers out of you, he moves them in front of your lips. "Open."

Without hesitation, you part your lips to have him shove his fingers onto your tongue. You closed your eyes as you tasted the delicious combination of his skin and your sweet juices, softly moaning like a whore. "Good girl," he praises, releasing his fingers and smearing his saliva-soaked fingers along your cheek. You hear him unzip his pants, gasping from the warm touch of his cock against your lower back.

Mr. Reed fidgets with the back of your bra, unbuckling it and letting it drop to the floor. He moves his hands to caress your breasts, his warm palms against your hard nipples. "I'm going to fuck you now; it usually takes preparation, but of course there is no issue with how soaked you are." The tip of his cock pushes inside of you, making you cry out and claw onto the surface of the desk.

After a few moments of adjusting, he starts to move. Mr. Reed moves at a steady pace, groaning against your neck from how tight your pussy squeezes him. "Fuck, such a dirty girl...aren't you?" He ends with a harsh thrust, making you choke out a moan. "Yesssss, yess, I'm a dirty girl~" you whine out, barely able to speak properly from the constant noises and the rough fucking you were receiving. One of his hands snakes up between the valley of your breasts, cradling the column of your throat.

Caught between his tightening grip and the new angle of his thrusts, you were in a euphoric state you never thought you would ever experience. His cock abused your cervix, and his balls slapped against your clit from each motion. With the release of his grip around your throat, you exhale. You feel him slip his cock from your vagina, making you feel empty.

As soon as you feel his fingers spread your cheeks, you feel yourself back against his hands. That was all the encouragement he needed, pressing the head of his cock against your ass. "Now....this won't be pleasant in the beginning, but you're going to like it anyway, aren't you?" He murmurs in your ear and only lets out a quiet curse from your tightness, slowly pushing in at an agonizing pace. Hot tears stream down your cheeks, and you went through a whirlwind of feelings from this. After a moment of silence, he cruelly drags out all of his length and slams it back in. "Aren't you?" You hastily nod.

It feels like a burning sensation; it burns and hurts just so damn right. He roughly squeezes one of your breasts while his other hand moves between your legs, mercilessly rubbing your clit. The feeling of his fingers pleasuring you and making your body reach closer and closer to your climax caused tears to stream down your face; this hurt so good. Increasing the pace of fucking your tight ass, he scooped more of your juices onto his fingers before resuming pleasuring you. "Who's my good girl?" He praises, pressing a kiss to your jawline. "Yours! I'm your good girl~" "Fuck.....right you are, I'm almost there~!" He speaks through gritted teeth, increasing his rough treatment on your body.

You feel as if you're about to pass out, your eyes rolling back as your orgasm reaches its peak. Right as you came undone and grinded against his hand, his hands moved to grope whatever parts of your body during your orgasm. He wrapped his arms around your chest and held your exhausted body to his chest as grunts and groans emitted from him, filling your ass up like a pastry.

As you were recovering from the brutal orgasm and 'heavy petting' you just received, he tucked himself back and zipped his pants. As your knees buckled and your eyes closed, you feel him lift your worn out body into his arms. His warm breath tickles your cheek "Happy Valentine's Day, darling~" placing a kiss before you slip into slumber.

[venus-vault]

Friend of the Family

Mr.Reed × Fem!Reader(Mid-20s) [18+]

Synopsis: Part 1 - (y/n)'s boring family Christmas vacation to Colorado doesn't exactly go as anticipated...

⚠️TW: Boring Family Dynamic, Age Gap, Alcohol Consumption (all parties of age), Oral Sex (Male & Female Recipients), Raw P in V Penetration, Breif Mutual Masturbation, General Smut. ❄️

"So do I even *actually* know this guy?" I interrogate, unsure why we're staying there instead of some mountainside Airbnb. "Of course! (y/n), you've met Mr. Reed plenty of times, you were just, y'know...smaller." Dad explains, cheery. "Okay... but when you said 'Colorado Christmas Vacation' I thought we'd be like... snowboarding, or hanging out in a cute mountain town, or at least renting a cool cabin in Telluride... not like... the middle of nowhere part of Boulder with some guy I haven't seen since I was a kid..."

He sighs, defeated by my expectations yet again. "Listen. He's my best friend, a few years back he lost his wife, and its true, I haven't gotten around to seeing him in person since you were four, Bug."

He drones on,

"He's a really nice guy, and super cool. He loves that Lana Del Rey girl you're always talking about, and he's got a really nice collection of records and books, its like a mini Barnes & Noble in there! You might find you have more in common than you think!" He offers.

And I decline : "With a 64-year-old retired engineer from England? Yeah thanks, I'll pass. I'm just gonna stay out of the way, keep my headphones on, and let you two reconnect."

I pull out my phone, pop in my earpods, and open Tumblr, pretending to care at all about the latest posts on the Spencer Reid tag. Out of the corner of my eye I can tell I've hurt his feelings, but fathers never say the right thing, and he can withstand a little sting every once in a while. It's what he deserves for not telling me where we were staying til halfway through the plane ride.

Our plane finally touches down, we funnel through Boulder Municipal into a cab and I won't be the first one to speak. I take one earpod out just in case, which Dad takes as an invitation. "Just got a text from Mr. Reed, and I hope you're hungry Bug, because there. will. be. pie." He beams as though this is some great revelation, elaborating "He's got this wild recipe with earl grey in the crust and lemon zest in the filling, it's award-winning. Seriously! He enters it in the local contest every other year and it's only lost once!"

Despite how riveting my father finds Mr. Reed and his Great British baking exploits, I do not, and apparently it shows as his smile tamps down to a simper. "Sweetie, I'm really trying here. I can't convince you it's gonna be the best Christmas ever, hey, we'll probably both have altitude sickness the entire time, but let's just make an attempt, okay? Nothing has to be perfect." He's an idiot but he's right and I agree. "Okay, yeah. I'll be nice." I sigh "That pie does sound pretty good, I guess..."

The cab rolls through the city of Boulder as Lana lilts gently in my earpods about 'haaa-aa-ow toooo disappear~' and maybe this trip won't be so bad after all.

We're finally dropped at the gate to Mr. Reed's house and -you're fucking kidding me- his driveway, long and winding, is gravel. I wince inwardly at the realization that I'll have to lug two wheeled suitcases up that path and flash Dad a fake 'I'm so glad We're doing this' smile before yanking them out of the trunk and making my way up to the stoop. This pie better be incredible.

Once Dad and I are situated on the stoop, out of breath and travel-weary, I assault Mr. Reed's doorbell. It's cold and I need a shower.

ding. .... nothing. ding-ding. nope. dingdingdingdingdingdingdingding-

The door opens, finally, and a sweet-looking older man in a well composed cardigan-button down combo and jeans steps out to greet us, smiling bright as his eyes fall on Dad.

"Jonathan!!"

"Reed!!"

Laughter ensues as I observe their embrace, holding back a heavy eyeroll. Somehow I am already third-wheeling.

"Oh my god, Mr. Reed, you remember (y/n)? She's just finished a semester at Oxford!" Dad smirks, gesturing to me and I give a shy wave as Mr. Reed's eyes scan over me, widening in surprise.

"(y/n)? As in, little (y/n), (y/n) who was- ?" He holds his hand flat, bringing it down by his knee as he looks between me and dad in disbelief.

"The very same, can you believe it?"

I purse my mouth into a smile, just completely overwhelmed by how awkward this interaction is.

"Well look at you! You've certainly grown up, haven't you?"

"I suppose so!" my best fake laugh.

Mr. Reed's eyes trace my form again and he pulls me into a quick side hug. He's warm and smells like lemon zest, vanilla extract.

"Let's get you two in then, supposed to be a blizzard tonight."

He grabs one of my suitcases and we follow him as he shuffles back inside.

His house is simple and a little cramped, but I do smell pie. 'Bless This Mess' reads a framed piece of embroidery on the wall, and if there is a God, I hope he does.

We toss our bags into our respective guest rooms at the top of the stairs and I finally get to take my shower before making a way back downstairs to the dining room.

We sit through a meal -shepherd's pie, what is it with this guy and pie?- and my dad and Mr. Reed discuss people they both know who died or lived or have moved or haven't moved and I am in hell until-

"Little after dinner drink then?"

My eyes snap up from my plate to meet his, a small smirk tugging at the corners of my mouth. His eyes crinkle at the ends when he smiles, warm and comforting and it occurs to me for the first time that Mr. Reed is...handsome... If he were 20 years younger he'd definitely be my type, in fact...

"Alright! So that's one, me makes two, Jonathan, little shiraz with your pie?"

"Well how could I say no to such a generous offer?" Dad beams.

We move back into the living room and sip and I pick at the pie. It is good and after a glass and a half of shiraz Mr. Reed looks just as appetizing, but I decide I'm not going to eye-fuck this old man in front of my father, or at least not in an obvious way.

So I sit, tepid, on my phone and pretend not to be bothered by the lack of service while I half listen to their conversation, looking up strategically to ogle Mr. Reed every now and then. His eyes find mine and I watch him nibble at his lip and does he know?

"So then (y/n), Oxford, hm?"

"Uhm, yeah, I'm in their creative writing MFA program right now... its... interesting."

"Interesting boring or interesting incredible?" He crosses one leg over the other and leans in, attentive.

"Uh, I mean it's going well, people in my classes are a little...er.. pretentious..?" I giggle, nervous.

"Exactly as I remember it, then!" He laughs loudly, and dad joins in, snickering along. His laughter is infectious and this wine is making me blush and I smile.

"You're an alum?"

"What, the accent didn't give it away?" A chuckle, "Yeah, yeah, I was lucky enough to take about an eon of courses in engineering sciences there, immigrate in the 90s, build this place, blah blah blah, but enough on me, it seems we may just be in the midst of the next great American novelist, eh Jonathan?" A wink.

"I don't know about that," I tear my eyes away from him, focusing in on the details of a floorboard.

"Oh (y/n) don't be modest, Reed you'd love her stuff, she's got some of the most well-metered prose, and-"

"Dad." I warn, eyes wide with embarrassment.

"Oop, sorry bug," He cringes "Didn't mean to dad-out on ya."

"I'd love to read some of your writing sometime, granted you'd be comfortable enough to share." Mr. Reed interjects.

"Uh, yeah. Maybe. Sometime..."

"Can I top you up?"

"Sure." He fills my glass just to the midpoint and does the same for himself.

"Jonathan?" He smirks playfully at dad.

"Ah, I dunno, I should probably be getting some shut-eye actually."

"Aw come on,"

"No, no, these days if im up past 10 with a drink in hand I'll be totally useless the next 24 hours." He stands, patting my shoulder. "Night, y'all. Don't have too much fun without me!" And there go the finger guns so now it's my turn to cringe.

He finally leaves the room and I'm alone with Mr. Reed. There's a heavy silence in the air and I take a small sip of my drink.

"So, (y/n), big on Lana Del Rey I hear?" He smirks.

"One of my favorites." I breathe, forcing a smile.

"Norman Fucking Rockwell or Blue Banisters?"

"NFR."

His eyebrows raise "it's okay to be wrong."

"But I'm not."

"Lust for Life or Born To Die; Paradise Edition?"

"... you ask hard questions, Mr. Reed."

"And you... answer them."

"And if I give you another 'wrong' answer?"

"Why would it matter? Are you trying to impress me?"

"...Paradise." I squint at him.

"Mm, see? We agree on something."

I'm powerless to the smile that forms on my face.

"Yeah?"

He lets out a low laugh. "Yeah,"

"What drew you to her, originally I mean?" He looks me over.

"Well, like a lot of young women I do have the obligatory depression diagnosis and Tumblr account combo, and things spiraled out from there I guess..."

"Ah, and here I thought it was just your ill-suited attraction to old men!" He lets out a warm chuckle at his own joke and I must've misheard him.

"What?" I shift a bit in my place on the couch, called out.

He scoffs. "Come on, (y/n). Let's not play this game. You've been eyeing me up since dinner, sitting there and sipping your drink and sucking berries off your fork in the most salacious way, letting your gaze linger, innocent and doe-eyed yet so apathetic to it all," he rolls his eyes like he might be as well, "when in reality, it seems, correct me if I go wrong, but you've been looking at me all night like you want me to touch you. Is that accurate or am I projecting a fantasy?"

The tip of his tongue trails his lip, my gaze following its path and I'm warm. His eyes search mine, that was supposed to be a question.

"Uhm... no that... that sounds...accurate..." I admit almost silently, eyes boring into the floor as I sheepishly take another sip of my wine.

"Hm. I see. And in front of your father too...tsk, naughty girl. Lucky for you the man's terrible at reading body language or subtext of any variant,"

Mr. Reed rises from his chair across the coffee table and plants himself on the edge of the sofa next to me. "I, however, do not have that problem." I look up at him and his eyes are two blue marbles behind those wireframed glasses, his cheshire smirk enough to melt me, it's overwhelming.

My face grows hot and my body tight as he delicately removes the wineglass from my hand, sets it down on the coffee table, and leans down to kiss me.

He's tender and gentle and his lips are soft, his tongue stained with blueberry filling as it finds mine, and he strokes my cheek. I place a shaky hand on his knee and one of his covers it as he presses his forehead to mine, breaking the spell. "Are you certain this is something you want, (y/n)? I wouldn't want to impose-" I cut him off with another, more assertive kiss because I need this.

The holidays are stressful and I'm horny and he's here. Fuck it.

As we continue making out, Mr. Reed scoots onto the couch beside me and I find his zipper. His dick jumps to meet my hand through the fabric as one of his hands slips under my sweater and he moans at the softness of my breast.

I pull away to unzip his pants and stroke him a couple times before moving to kneel between his legs. I look up to him, reverent, then back down to his cock, throbbing in hand. Giving him a few steady strokes, I lean forward, parting my lips.

"Can I?" I blink.

He nods eagerly, transfixed.

I take as much of him into my mouth as I can and swallow as his tip hits the back of my throat.

I hear him suck in a breath and his hands find my hair as I start to bob my head over the length of him, holding his balls with one hand and methodically stroking his base with the other. His breath catches, ragged and I feel him spasm in my mouth. I need him. I finally come up for air with a gasp and wipe a tendril of spit off my lower lip as I look up at him. "Mr. Reed, I want to fuck you," I breathe.

"Well all you had to do was ask," he sighs and I pull myself up off the floor, undoing my jeans and tugging them off my legs as quickly as I can before tearing off my sweater and within seconds I'm standing before him in just my panties and bralette. His eyes trail over me. His teeth sink into his lower lip as a hand wraps around his dick and I place a knee on either side of his legs, straddling him. Fair is fair and my fingers slip under the hem of my panties so I can work myself for him as he takes me in.

"How do you want me?"

"Turn around."

I follow his blunt instruction and as I do his fingers hook into either side of my panties, pulling the dampened fabric down my legs.

"Now, you're going to squat down for me... slowly."

I do as I'm told and he guides my hips, lining himself up with my center. Mr. Reed rests his hands on the tops of my thighs, pushing me further down into his lap and I gasp as I feel him begin to penetrate me. I knew it was big, I mean, he could barely fit in my mouth, but christ. I swivel my hips in an attempt to adjust to him, and hear him draw in a breath.

"(y/n), I want you to bounce for me, and you. will. not. make. a sound. understood?"

"Y-yes Mr. Reed."

I start to raise and lower myself slowly on him and gasp sharply as I feel myself tense. He holds me steady by my biceps and guides me up and down.

"Good, that's- ohh that is good, just keep going... mm, mhm, just. like. that. you. Are. Brilliant..." he murmurs, squeezing my ass and I bite back a moan

"Shhhh-shh..."

"Ssorry Mr. Reed," I manage quietly.

He continues to guide my movements, faster now, and I watch his head tip against the back of the couch. His cock twitches inside me and gasp sharply.

"(y/n), stand for me?" And I do.

He turns me around by my hips and I blink down at Mr. Reed and he's panting, glasses perched on top of his head, looking me over hungrily.

"Lay back on the couch here, pet."

He sets a pillow down for me to rest my head on and I do as he says, watching him part my legs, settling between them as he presses gentle kisses up my inner thighs, staring intently into my eyes as he does.

He hovers over my core and I gasp at the warmth of his breath. I watch Mr. Reed's eyes close for a moment as he inhales the scent of my sex and smirks to himself.

"Does your pussy taste like Pepsi Cola then, (y/n)?" He lets out a low chuckle at his own corny little quip, bringing his mouth closer "Shall we find out?"

He pins my thighs open and slowly licks a wide stripe up my vulva from entrance to clit. I can't hold back the whimper that slips from me at the heat of his tongue, and it's even harder to silence msyelf when he dips two fingers into me, curling the pads of his fingertips just slightly as he steadily works me, his tongue moving in a synced rythym against my clit.

The sensation is almost too much and I gasp as I feel myself spasm a couple times around his fingers. He hums into me and the vibration sends a shudder through my body. He tilts his head up, panting as he continues fingering me, and my hips arch up to meet his hand.

He removes his fingers, pressing them against the plush of my lower lip and into my mouth. I suck and lick impatiently, and before long his mouth is on mine again as I feel his cock slip back into me. I can't help the soft moan that escapes my lips as he begins to slowly rock his hips into mine.

"Mister Reed?" I breathe

"Mm?"

"It's... you're just...so big...." He smirks.

"Oh, I'm aware dear." He picks up his pace some "You're taking me so well, though..." he presses a kiss into the side of my neck and I gasp.

"Being so good for me..."

A loud creak interrupts us from overhead and Mr. Reed stops moving, eyes glued upwards as he clamps his hand over my mouth.

Heavy footsteps make the floorboards groan above us as he slowly starts to fuck me again and I take in a sharp breath through my nostrils, looking up at him, panicked.

"Shhh, shh-" another low creak.

Mr. Reed quickens his thrusts and I involuntarily whine against his hand which finds it's way to my neck instantly, holding firm.

"I said. Be quiet." He whispers sternly.

I bite my lip in an effort not to cry out, nodding and I begin to feel that familiar tension coiling inside as he bucks into me, my mind going totally blank at the way his hand feels wrapped around my throat.

The footsteps and floorboards finally stop, his grip on my neck releases some, and a warm haze overtakes my body as he continues to forcefully piston into me. I feel myself starting to tense up and struggle for breath as I unwind completely under him.

Seconds later, Mr. Reed lets out a low groan and I feel his orgasm pulse out acutely within me as I weather my own.

We lay there for a few minutes and as we come down together, the weight of our indiscretion settles in some.

I've just fucked my dad's best friend. Three days before Christmas. And I liked it. A lot.

"Needed.. that..." I huff.

"I could tell," he chortles.

Mr. Reed slips out of me, grabbing one of the discarded linen napkins from the coffee table to clean himself off with, before gently tucking it between my legs.

"Oh, and... it does, by the way."

Part 2❄️

[panunk]

[l3tm31nn0w]

Mr. Reed (Heretic) NSFW Alphabet

He has a chokehold on me y’all 😭

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Mr. Reed is quite doting afterwards. He makes sure you get cleaned off and offers you a drink and a snack. His age shows here and sometimes you have to shoo off his insistence to give you another blanket, you’d rather have him come warm you thank you very much!

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

It’s absolutely cliche, but his favorite part of his is his mind. He loves to manipulate and titillate you using only his words. If he can’t choose his mind he’d say his mouth. He knows you’re always won over by his smile and he can also use it to pleasure you until you’re screaming.

His favorite body part of yours is your tits. He loves burying his face in them while you ride him.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He loves coming inside you, but only if you’re on some sort of contraceptive. He does not have a breeding kink, it’s more about defiling you. If he’s not coming inside you, he likes coming on you or on one of his religious artifacts.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

His ultimate fantasy is to take you to a church service with a remote vibrator inside you.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He’s been around the block a time or two and is very experienced, but is always willing to learn something new from you if you bring up a new position or kink. He’s constantly bragging about how he’ll fuck you better than the “silly little boys” closer to your age.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Cowgirl. Grandpa gets tired ok! He also loves having you looming over him, but knowing he’s still the one in control.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Depends on the session. He’s absolutely capable of being the goofiest man on earth, cracking jokes while he’s eating you out, sometimes saying something so corny and ridiculous you have to pause to get your giggle fit out. Other times he is deadly serious, either in a romantic sense or in a way that demands reverence.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He has a brown happy trail speckled with silver that leads to a well groomed patch of hair.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Mr. Reed can be painfully romantic when he wants to be. Caressing you, telling you how much he loves you. With just a look he can give you butterflies.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He’s a pervert and lived a very solitary lifestyle before you came around so he’s no stranger to jacking off. Now that you’re around he loves to plant himself in an unexpected spot and have you find him pleasuring himself.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Oh buckle up he has no shortage!

*wax play

He loves using his holy candles to drip hot wax all over your naked body.

*orgasm control and overstimulation

Mr. Reed loves combining edging and overstimulation, he views it as a way for you to prove your devotion to him

*degradation

He relishes in telling you what a nasty little slut you are, but always emphasizes you’re HIS nasty little slut. How romantic. If you come from a religious background he will work that into his scathing remarks.

*hierophilia

While he may not be religious he gets deeply turned on being surrounded by all his holy items and books.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

His “church” office in his house. He gets incredibly turned on by defiling you in front of all those religious items. You’re like a sacrifice on his altar over and over and over again.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Control of course! Having you blissfully wrapped around his finger is his biggest motivator.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He’s very grossed out by the concept of breeding kinks, he thinks they’re disrespectful to woman and that you’re more than your uterus. It’s also the ultimate fuck you to biblical culture to fuck for fun and not to make a family.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He prefers to give, it’s one of the easiest ways to control you and put you at his mercy. He’s incredible with his mouth, usually painfully slow and teasing. He usually won’t shut up when he’s going down on you: making jokes, degrading you, or telling you what a good girl you are (it just depends on his mood)

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Grandpa HAS to be slow, but god does he make it worth your while. He will spend hours edging you going between eating you out and fucking you until you’re in a daze. It makes you his perfect little compliant puppet by the end of the night.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He doesn’t really do quickies, but his one exception is having you suck him off if you offer.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Mr. Reed is game to experiment in anyway you’d like. He doesn’t really want to inflict actual physical pain on you though. He prefers psychological torture.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Again, GRANDPA. He’s over 60 so you better make that one round count! Trust that he always does though. He focuses in on making you feel good for a long time, dragging out the process. It also makes you easier to control the longer he drags it out.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He loves using toys on you. Overstimulating you and turning you into a blubbering mess is one of his favorite things to do and vibrators make that sooo much easier. He also loves fucking you with a dildo and degrading you while he does so.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Mr. Reed is DEEPLY unfair. He will tease you until you’re in tears begging for release. Sometimes he’ll drag it out for hours, always with you fully naked and him fully clothed. To him this a way to worship his one true religion.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He’s a TALKER. He’ll make jokes, degrade you, or praise you. He knows you’re able to get off on his voice alone and takes full advantage of this. He’s not afraid to moan and every time he does you relish in him letting go, even just a little bit.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Has a big thing for lingerie. He’s constantly buying you new outfits and having you put on little shows for him. Sometimes he’ll want to role play with you as a stripper and him your customer.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Average size, circumcised.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Not the highest simply because of his age, but he’s always down to pleasure (or torture) you. When he wants you he will have you though, he’s not forceful or anything but he becomes annoyingly clingy.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He will always tend to you first, making sure you’re ok (see aftercare). You’re usually asleep before him and he loves holding you close as you drift off. Beware though: once he does fall asleep this fucker SNORES.