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#You fuel my addictions

themostsanebug · 22 days

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IM DONE POUNDING MY HEAD AGAINST THE KITCHEN FLOOR. APOLOGIZIN FOR MY LIFE AND NEVER ENTERING YOURS!!! I say im sorry, but i cant move on. I know you've got scars of your own but i'd rather hide my knifes before you go!! I'll either live or die alone </3

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII I SWEA--

I'M SO FUCKIN SORRYYYYYYY!!!! I PROMISE, IM TRYIN, IM DOIN MY BEST. I JUST HAVENT LEARNED HOW TO BE AS HUMAN AS YOU ARE YET!!!!! /lyr

#fly man yaps!!#fly answering asks!!#will wood #thank you for fueling my addiction lil bro <3

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cyncerity · 2 years

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Would you get mad if I showed up in your inbox and was like "borrower Dream climbing up to George's sleeping moth to wake them up with a tiny kiss but George yawns in his sleep and swallows Dream and when he wakes up Dream's gotta get him to notice him"?

UNAWARE VORE UNAWARE VORE UNAWARE VORE-

One of my favorite vore tropes personally it’s just *chefs kiss* perfect i love it so much

Imagine angst wise, especially if George cant hear Dream >:)

Or if this is the first time Dream gets nommed-

He’s just panicking and he’s pounding on the walls yelling but George can’t hear him. Eventually the pain wakes him up but since he’s never eaten Dream before, he assumes it just a stomachache. So he takes something that usually settles his stomach, but it doesn’t fix it. In fact, it may have made it worse.

Dream is startled by something else coming into the stomach with him, so he starts to thrash harder, which really upsets George’s stomach cause he’s not used to having living, moving things in there. The more he moves and fights, the more the walls around him compress him in painful ways, knocking the air out of his lungs and bruising him all over.

George is just trying to find anything to settle his stomach, but no medicine or online recipe has worked. He even at one point tries to find Dream to ask him what to do, or to see if there’s any natural borrower made remedies that he may know of, but he can’t find him. This is probably the worst part for Dream to hear; George is so close yet he has no idea.

It takes a full day of George trying to wait it out and fix it before he gets fed up to the point that he tries to throw up. Only then does he find where Dream had been all day, and he feels awful. Dream has completely lost his voice from screaming all day to no avail, and is obviously a scared, shaking mess, so George does his best to comfort him. A nice, warm blanket, food, putting on a movie he knows he likes, and just apologizing and whispering promises that it’ll never happen again. George wants to hold him close, to kiss him and tell him that it’ll all be ok and press him to his heart, but he knows that more physical contact is probably the opposite of what Dream needs right now, and that’s ok. He’ll do anything to make Dream feel more safe after that.

on the other hand, fluff:

Dream knows it’s safe and is more like “well George is asleep i’ll get him to let me out when he wakes up” but by the time George wakes up, Dream has fallen asleep lol

George spends like 4 hours looking for him until Dream wakes up and is like “uh oh” so he just starts pounding on the stomach walls

Again going with the idea that George can’t hear Dream cause i think that’d be funnier, George is initially kinda freaked out before realizing “oh that’s where Dream went.”

Que a lot of George drinking and eating stuff, poking his stomach, moving around a lot, laying face down to squish him, and generally just fucking with Dream as a “punishment.”

By the time George spits him out he’s covered in soda and still sticky from the now digested candy that he had been sitting in, so George cleans him off with a soft towel and warm water and Dream pretends to be mad at George for messing with him, but he’s not doing a great job hiding his smile.

#cyncerity #mcyt g/t #mcyt gt #tw vore #not for a specific au #just felt like rambling #y’know what else if under appreciated?#unaware vore where both the pred AND the prey are unaware #that works in very few situations but the few i’ve seen are SO GOOD #anyway #thank you Roman for fueling not only my vore thoughts but also my growing dnf addiction #<3

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portraitofalonelydyke · 3 months

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It’s not that i don’t want to visit my friends today i really do but Saturdays are the only day i have off work and there is so much fanfic i want to catch up on. I have like 15 posts i have to write up still 😩😩😩

#you guys need to get worse at writing #you’re fueling my addiction

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colorful-horses · 2 years

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hi! sorry if you've been this asked before, but have you thought at all about streaming again? if not I understand but your streams were so chill and I liked hearing your takes on things

I would like to, but I don't have anything else to do on streams! úwù Maybe I'll just become a minecraft streamer and you'll be subjected to my agonizingly unfocused rambling stream of consciousness. Lol

#i know i could do art streams but i am tooo self concious for that lol #my draws always turn out pretty baaaad when people are watching. so maybe ill just become a Pro Gamer #i dont have like any dolls to unbox anymore so thats why i stopped doing those unboxing streams #and also i used my poster board for art stuff so i dont have that anymore either B)#maybe ill just make an amazon wishlist and promote that instead of a normal kofi LOL. fuel my doll addiction #not art #not pony #im glad you liked my streams though ówò

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awaiting-my-escape · 2 years

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Oh just in case I'm being scrutinized by someone who really could be doing a million other things that would be actually responsible instead of neurotic, obsessive, and narcissistic, the incorrect label you were looking for was "pretentious", but that's more of that whole projection thing that's textbook for narcissists and is not an accurate label.

Like for real I'm just trying to live my life and grow as a person so when I said I wasn't going to play narcissist's games with people who would rather waste time clowning around trying to "win" rather than also being mature and responsible and growing as people, I meant it. I don't need to dig for receipts, I never had any desire to use them, but even if I did they've not been made hard to access. I do not want to be involved in nonsense and if this were truly a game that I was forced into, I would quit.

If I am forced to continue playing a game which should have never been started, I will release what I have and the outcome will be brutal. Quit while you're ahead. I know it's virtually impossible for me to win a narcissist's game, but I absolutely know how to make everyone lose. Do not force my hand.

#personal #sorry to my good followers #idk why I keep getting tossed into the same BS but while I clearly haven't learned how to avoid it I sure as hell have learned from my past #I make a point to try to be understanding and process my emotions in a way that leads to constructive solutions and avoids anger #and in general it works #but now that I know that I've been being purposely undermined and the boundaries I set were intentionally disregarded?#yeah now I'm mad #I understand how narcissists work I just don't know why #maybe some chronic diet-related nutritional deficiencies coupled with certain addictions led to inadequate fueling of the brain?#still doesn't excuse narcissistic manipulation though #my therapist helped me piece together a lot of this #and I sent her unaltered screenshots so I know I'm not misrepresenting anything on my end #I was just manipulated into not regarding the red flags by a narcissist until their unfounded envy pushed them to attempt sabotage #and it's pointless because that's not going to help them unless they literally derive pleasure from trying to deliberately cause suffering #and at that point you're just being a societal plague #aka a detriment rather than a benefit to the world #do you think that a smart and rational person would choose that?#would someone who wants the world around them to be better opt for that?#if you want to be destructive then just don't get me wrapped up in it.#it's plainly unethical.

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rafeysdoll · 12 days

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oh my goshhh i hate this so much. i’m so sorryyy i just had to get something out!

you gag, drool falling down your chin. your swollen lips wrapped around his throbbing cock as rafe pulls on your makeshift ponytail— being able to control how fast he wanted you to move on and off it.

his pelvis brushes against your nose as you look up at him with teary eyes — freshly manicured hands digging onto the sides of his legs as he fucks himself into your mouth.

“makin’ me real proud baby. real proud,” he praises, other hand stroking your cheek.. chuckling when he feels his own bulge through it.

“d-doing such a good job, like.. you were made for this shit,” he grumbles, vulgar words making you whimper around him, the vibration making him hiss.

the oldest cameron couldn’t help but find you beautiful like this — some expensive mascara running down your face causing black wet streaks on your foundation, lipstick blemished from the way it connected with his dick, doe eyes looking at him submissively. with love. the sounds of ‘plop, plop, plop’ having him addicted.

your boyfriend’s left hand trails to your bra, tugging it down to reveal your hardened nipples — quickly pulling it lightly before fiddling with your other breast.

“what a sight to see.” he mumbles, groping your tits as he continues using your mouth as his own personal flesh light until he feels that buildup in his stomach reaching the finish line, grip tensing on your hair.

“fuck.. fuck, gonna cum.. y-you gonna swallow?” he strains, abdomen tightening.

usually, you’d love for his cum to spill to the back on your throat, tongue painted white as a small memory of him. but, you felt different today. some hurt or maybe even obsessive part of you craving a fuel to your ‘only rafe exists’ mindset. wanting more of a.. branding.

you lift one of your hands, pointer finger giving him the signal ‘no’ before pointing it to your flushed face. “s-shit, want me to paint your face?” he asks like you could answer.

you whine, closing your eyes in preparation instead.

rafe delivers one more thrust into your warm mouth before pulling out, warm liquid squirting on your face as he slowly touches himself over your face, riding his high. “fuck,” he finishes with a groan.

you slowly open your eyes one by one, peeking. “like it,” you mewl a bit raspy, attempting to hide your mischievous smile.

“yeah.. yeah? like that shit baby?” he chuckles, putting himself back in his boxers before helping you stand up. “god baby, you’re real.. real fucking perfect you know that?” he hums before spreading his own seed across your face even more.

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velmautism · 1 year

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did you really call a relationship "sus" to indicate that it has lesbian undertones? why do you think being gay is suspicious?

Get Petey'd

#look me in the eyes anon. do you think i'd choose my blog name because i'm homophobic.#go look for fuel for your outrage addiction somewhere else because this is the only time i will humor you.

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elicathebunny · 4 months

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FINALLY CLOSING THE GAP BETWEEN YOU AND YOUR HIGHEST SELF IN 2024.

You are going to STOP scrolling endlessly for self-help and advice content and you are going to STOP and apply the knowledge you have endlessly gained. Obtaining help and advice knowledge is useless if it goes through one ear and comes straight out the other. STOP becoming addicted to the idea of scrolling and scrolling for your problems yet you already have the resources to fix them. A fool is a person who cannot decide to take action despite having access to the information needed to do so.

BREAKING FREE FROM THE SCROLLING CYCLE

Learning and Applying is one thing, but Learning and Staying Stationary is literally brain rot. You're addicted to the idea of change and the end result, but you never take the steps towards discipline with a personal structure to get that result. You keep looking for quick fixes and easy hacks, but life is not a quick fix and no hack can elevate your life from 0% to 100% without visiting the rest of the numbers first.

TAKE A BREAK FROM SCROLLING

Take time away from your usual scrolling and learn to be on your own. Learn your own ways of self-care, learn what works for you and understand what you need, because nobody is the same. Following a millionaire's morning routine will not make you a millionaire. This routine has worked for someone to feel and be productive in the morning and was probably curated over the years to suit their current lifestyle. So, seeing other people's successes and comparing their working ways to your life is unrealistic if you are not in a position to implement them. Going straight from 0% (Being unproductive and procrastinating) to 100% (Being incredibly Productive and in tune with self) will not be sustainable for someone who has not built the discipline and the inner foundations required for it. STOP seeing information online and taking it without ALTERING anything to your personal situation.

STOP ASKING HOW TO AND JUST DO

"How to lose weight, How to become more social, How to do this and that"

Most of these things you ALREADY know the answer to. Everybody knows that to lose weight, you need to burn more than you consume. There is literally no other way, no magic and no secret hack, just that simple fact. I guarantee you know that to become more social you just have to be social. Learn to be comfortable in social situations which will require inner work, but it's not a difficult concept. Most of us know what we need to do, yet we still try to find quick fixes or another way that same message is presented to us differently. We act as if we are improving and developing on our "improvement" journey yet we are just finding coping ways to feel like we are moving, yet we are still in the exact same place as before. I know you know what to do, I know you have researched what you should do and ways you can do it. So why are you not doing it? Why are you still not where you want to be? If you are not where you want to be, then what you're currently doing needs to change. You cannot do the exact same thing you've been doing for years and expect a different outcome. You need to curate a routine suited to your needs that is realistic and achievable to adopt.

LEARNING TO MOVE ON YOUR OWN, STOP DEPENDING ON OTHERS TO FUEL YOUR SUCCESS JOURNEY LISTEN TO: NOBODY IS COMING TO SAVE YOU BY JULIENHIMSELF Make yourself your safe space, your foundation. When you see yourself in the mirror you should be able to tell yourself "I love you", you should be so sure in what you do that nobody else can contradict what you believe in yourself, this is the end goal of self-improvement. Many of us have put aside our goals because we "are not ready", "people may judge us" or "I need to be/achieve ___ to.." Now don't get me wrong, I'm on this journey with you. I write on this blog to teach my brain how to think in the higher mindset that I'm creating for myself. I too have thoughts like this which is why in 2024 we are going to break out of our old selves to make room for our new selves together. We have to lose ourselves to find ourselves. If you're mood and self-worth are controlled by other people's opinions, then you will never advance further with yourself and will remain stationary. You have to stop allowing other people to determine whether you are allowed to pursue your desires or if you shouldn't because of fear of rejection. Don't take life too seriously, we are only here for so much time. So what if people make fun of you? In a few years will you look back and be proud and fulfilled of your past or feel regret and disappointment? LISTEN TO: WHY YOU CARE SO MUCH BY JULIANHIMSELF + LISTEN TO: HOW TO DETACH BY VICKITA TRIVEDI

The only way to get to 0%-100% is by doing.

Embody your potential

#self worth #dream girl #that girl #self improvement #improve #self growth #self gratitude #new years #highest self

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pascalpvnk · 2 months

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take it from me

pairing: latino!joel miller x f!afab!reader

summary: joel is a simple man who simply finds pleasure in pleasing you.

warnings: moodboard used for aesthetic purposes - does not represent the reader description, 18+ MDNI, no timeline, no specified ages, no mention of sarah or ellie, LATINO JOEL (most translations within the text except for some reused pet names/common phrases). This is porn with minimal plot (but unrelated plot I canon—his favorite artist is Linda Ronstadt and I stand by it.), Joel maneuvers reader, manhandling essentially, no other descriptions of reader other than nipple piercings, body worship(?), Joel’s filthy fucking mouth, mention of thigh riding, oral (both receiving), unprotected p in v, multiple orgasms, mentions of intense emotions, aftercare.

word count: 3.3k

HOW TO SUPPORT PALESTINE // IMPORTANT FOR TLOU READERS & WRITERS

a/n: fun fact, I’m a virgin, so if it seems far fetched it’s probably because it is. anyways, a special shoutout to ramon nomar for being the muse for this piece, another to @mrsswilliams for beta-ing and fueling my horny antics, thank you to my spanish teachers for guiding me to this moment (probably not your intention but I digress), and to you for taking the time to be here and hopefully enjoying! happy reading xx (banners & dividers by @saradika-graphics)

Addicting is the only word Joel Miller can muster up to describe you as his mind clouds with lust each night he’s alone, bucking into his own fist and spilling his sins after he’d met you. Of course you’re beautiful and charming above all things, but he can’t help the way his cock stirs after simply a phone call from you describing your day. How you miss him and want to meet up again soon.

Joel isn’t the brightest man, which he is very self aware of. But what he craves to learn about you, what your favorite flower is, favorite ice cream, your desires, outranks any level of intelligence a man could hold. He wants to please you, not for a superficial reason to use against you down the line. He enjoys your smile and the way your eyes crinkle, your dimple making an appearance on occasion, and it makes him feel good. The little things shine a light in his chest, ever the people pleaser.

However, he finds a red, hot desire to rouse you, make you squirm under his tender touch. To watch every fiber of control and tension dissipate from your being.

But he’s cautious.

He’s treading on thin ice within himself. He wants to give and give and give, but he’d never forgive himself if he overwhelmed and alarmed you. Your wit keeps him on his toes, tempting and trying his willpower to take things at a palatable pace.

But he’s just a man at his simplest form, a glutton for pleasure wanting to carve himself a home within you and give everything he has to please you.

You found yourself perched upon his lap, a forgotten movie droning in the background as hands and lips explore new territory. Joel firmly guided your hips, firstly against his own, then he aided you across his denim clad thigh after you wriggled your pants to the floor.

Choruses of Spanish praises, filth, ‘mamita, use me’, and phrases alike rolled off his tongue effortlessly as he found pleasure within your own. Consuming every moan, gasp, and ‘don’t stop’ you were so eager to give.

He struggled to deny your beautiful pleas to get him off as he had for you. You knew he wanted you to, there was no doubt in your mind considering the prominent bulge straining and begging you to. He reassured you, or rather made excuses for himself to ease the guilt he felt at your subtle disappointment.

I’m not coming in my jeans in front of the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.

You said you had work in the morning, anyhow. We outta get’cha home, preciosa.

Joel kissed you softly as he pulled up your pants, grabbed his keys, opened his truck door for you, waited at red lights, and finally as he dropped you off at your apartment building, sealing the night with melted wax, branding himself on your heart until you meet next.

Made it home okay, sweetheart. Hope to see you again soon.

And he does.

His head is already spinning at the thought of going out with you again. He’s showered, trimmed, even ironed his flannel before making sure it’s buttoned and tucked properly. Well rested is not one of the qualities he’s adorning—no thanks to you running his imagination rampant—but the adrenaline he feels, and the coffee he drank at noon, make up for his lack of preparedness.

At the end of the day, those things don’t even matter. Joel Miller makes it as far as his front door when you ring, bringing you inside with the intention of grabbing his own keys. His hands find you instead, your face in a gentle caress as he compliments your attire, your appearance as a whole, and your waist as he kisses you with increasing fervor. You don’t stop him, and he doesn’t stop himself.

“Ay dios. Couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you all day,” he mumbles against your neck, walking you backwards to his bedroom. His shirt wrinkles under your tight grip, suffocating him until you pop each button open one by one. You leave him in his black undershirt, half untucked in his dark washed jeans.

The back of your knees find his mattress before you even realize, forcing you to sit parallel with his waist. He takes his time, always calculated with his hands on every sweet spot he can reach. Joel cups your jaw, admiring your blown out pupils and the raw lust overtaking your features.

“Wanna take good care of ya, now,” he soothes. “Just say the word and I’ll stop, you know I’ll stop for ya, promise.”

It’s half of a promise to you, half of him asking you to promise to tell him if it becomes too much. You nod, reaching for him once again.

“No, chiquita,” he holds your hand to his chest. “¿Me prometes? You promise me?”

“I promise,” you say clearly and wholeheartedly. “On my life.”

With your renewed consent, he folds himself over to kiss you deeply. His tongue dances with yours, similarly to a few nights prior but with increased desperation. Fingertips graze up your sides, nerves twitching under his subtle touch, only unlatching your lips to lift your top over your head. His eyes fixate on the pebbled flesh and metal protruding your bra, making quick work of the clasp before removing it.

“I knew you had something hiding underneath this,” he muses, toying with the fabric of your bra between his first two fingers. “Just when I thought you couldn’t get any prettier, hm?”

Joel skims his thumbs on the underside of both of your breasts, attaching his mouth to your collarbone. He suckles your delicate skin, committing the taste of your sweet musk and desire to his memory. He softly licks over one of your nipples, taking in how your head tips back with a sigh. He brings it into his mouth, nipping and assuaging the pierced bud until you manage to free his shirt out of his waistline.

“Paciencia, amor. Patience, sweetheart, please,” he pacifies as he guides your hand out of reach from his belt. “Just wanna savor you. Can I?”

You nod and opt to tangle your fingers in his curls. Approval seeps through his smirk as he continues his ministrations for as long as he pleases, feeling accomplished each time your hips chase his.

Joel stands up straight, running his calloused hands over one of your clothed legs, meticulously pulling each shoe and sock off and tossing them to the side to find later.

“Do I need a condom, baby?” He mutters against your knee, toying with the hemline of your pants.

You tell him no and quickly explain you’re clean and protected. Something in him visibly switches, desire becoming carnal. He clings tight to his sense of control, desperately willing himself to give himself to you, not give into himself.

Joel drags both layers of bottoms down your legs, watching you challenge him by keeping them clamped together. He exhales heavily through his nose, your limbs relaxing slightly, but just enough for him to retake control.

“Christ, looks like I was wrong again,” he sighs, smoothing his flattened palms over your open thighs. You can get prettier. “Oh she’s pretty, mamita. All this for me?”

A gasp falls between your lips as you’re tugged closer to the edge of the mattress. Your head spins, the only thought crossing it is Joel. His hands. His words. His filthy mouth and how it’s mere centimeters from where you want him to be. Need him to be.

“Joel,” you whine, feeling the scratch of his blunt facial hair on your inner thighs. His lips tease the sensitive skin around your pussy.

“What?” He coos, fingernails biting your flesh. “Dime, baby. Tell me what you want.”

It feels pathetic, you’re completely at his mercy, stripped down on his bed while he remains fully clothed over you. He has you in the palm of his hand, putty waiting to be molded and shaped however he pleases. Bliss has already warped your features, the anticipation of what’s to come already numbing your brain.

“I want you,” you cry simply.

“You have me, don’t ya? I’m gonna need you to be more specific.”

Frustration bubbles in your belly. You’re truly not annoyed, but the tension might snap you in half before he gets the chance to.

“Want you to touch me,” you plead. “Want you to make me come, please.”

Joel hums with content, thumbs pulling your cunt open from the outer lips. A slick, sticky mess you are, hardly touched and begging to come. Arousal seeps from you, finding its way to your tight hole. You watch Joel wet his lips, the self restraint slowly dwindling from his gaze.

“Show me,” he huffs. “Be good and fuck your hand f’me. Wanna see how you like it.”

The sound of his metal belt buckle clanking against itself is enough for your hand to fly below your hips. Relief floods your nervous system the moment you circle your clit, hips lifting and chasing the friction. Sighs leave your parted lips, eyelids falling shut with pleasure.

“Ah ah,” he corrects. “Eyes on me, beba. Sigue jugando con esa flor bonita. Mírame.” Keep playing with that pretty flower. Look at me.

You comply with his request, half lidded but maintaining eye contact nonetheless. Your fingers toy with your cunt lazily, eyes settling between his burning gaze and his taut boxers. His length strains beneath the thin fabric and his hand twitches at his side.

“I love watching you, mami,” Joel purrs. “Wish y’could see how perfect you look right now…perfectly wrecked just for me.”

His words egg you on, pace quickening on your throbbing clit. Moans spill from you as you watch Joel squeeze at his seemingly uncomfortable erection for his own relief. His other palm keeps your legs spread for him, kneading desperately at your thighs as you work yourself towards the edge.

“¿Quieres que te ayude, mamita?” Do you want me to help you?

Joel settles on his knees, both palms splayed against your skin to keep you pinned down. He licks a broad stripe from your asshole to your clit, sucking harshly on your labia before diving into your weeping cunt, all while audibly sighing with delight at your taste. Your hand instinctively rushes to grip his curls.

“I didn’t tell you to stop,” he grumbles while putting your hand back where he says it belongs. “Keep playing with yourself. Make this pretty pussy cry all over my face, cosa dulce.” Sweet thing.

Your digits pulse against the nerve bundle, shocked by the sensation of his tongue swirling inside of you. It’s absolutely obscene. He slurps up everything you have to give, edging you until your legs clamp over his ears. Joel sings into your cunt, a delicious melody that sends you into a frenzy. Your walls flutter around him as he guides you through your orgasm, nose nudging your hand out of the way to make more room for himself.

Your gaze drops from the ceiling to his blissful face, thick eyelashes brushing his flushed cheeks as he savors you. It all begins to feel like too much as you grip onto his shirt. You pull the cloth towards you and he gets the hint, dragging his mouth away from your pussy and removing his top.

“So desperate to come, mamita, already finished with me?” He cants, smoothing a thumb over your kneecap.

“No- just need a breath,” you pant. You take in his features, broad shoulders with a strong chest, thick arms. His hair alone has you running laps, the sparseness of it littered on his torso and below his belly button, his curls tousled already from your hands, and his beard—fuck his beard—is absolutely soaked with your arousal. He makes no attempt to wipe it clean before kissing you. The taste of your cunt dances on your tongue as he licks into your mouth.

“Joel,” you sigh, his lips leaving yours and trailing down your neck. “I wanna suck your cock, please.”

“You wanna suck it?” He smirks, slipping his hand beneath his boxers before shoving them off of his thighs. His fingers slip through your folds briefly before he deposits your cum onto the tip of his dick. Mischief plays on his expression as he opens your legs once more.

Joel slowly stuffs his cock into you, not your mouth but your pussy. A gasp escapes you, morphing itself into a moan. Your legs wrap around his waist, heels digging into his ass to pull him in deeper.

“Thought you wanted to suck it,” he grunts with a devilish grin, grinding his hips down into yours.

“Hmm, I’ll suck it later,” you draw out with a smile.

He leans down to suck your bottom lip into his mouth, gently nibbling on the sensitive skin before pulling off.

“God, mamita,” he exhales. “Love fucking this pussy. Takin’ me so well.”

His hips drive into yours at a devastating pace, only using a portion of his length to massage your pussy. You quickly adjust to him, allowing him to thrust deeper into you. You cry his name while simultaneously having all of the oxygen punched out of your lungs. Joel swallows your wails whole, moaning against your lips in return.

Your legs tense around his body, face twisting up with pleasure under the weight of his. Lips drag against your skin, anywhere he can reach. The room spins around you, eyes rolling back into your head as his hand snakes down to play with your clit. You desperately claw at Joel, gripping his curls in one hand and bruising his back with the other.

“Dámelo. Give it to me like I want, sugar,” Joel coaxes.

The bundles of twine prickling your flesh and holding you together in one piece snap, your body completely shattering into a million fragments underneath him. He stays buried inside you as you pulse around his cock, humming into your neck and soothing his hands over your burning skin.

Joel gently settles onto his side near you, cupping your jaw and kissing you feverishly. You shift your body to face away from him, pushing back against his soaked erection. His eyebrows furrow, grunts of detest coming from him.

“No, mami, I want to look at you while I fuck you. Ven aquí, come here,” he corrects, grasping your arm to guide you to press up chest to chest with him. A brief hiss escapes him as the cool jewelry brushes up against his nipples.

“These’ll be the death of me,” he sighs, latching his mouth to yours once more as he maneuvers you the way he wants.

His cock slips easily back into your wet heat, arms trapping your upper half against his as his legs anchor to the bed to buck into you. He grips onto your ass for leverage and you find yourself holding onto it with your own palm. It’s slower, intimate, reeling you in to take more, to take it all.

He draws another orgasm from you. Your heart thrums against his hardened chest, his pounding against the confines of his ribcage. He collapses on his back with a breathy groan, sweat perspiring on his forehead. You push back his sticky curls as he catches his breath this time.

“You still wanna suck it?” He chuckles cheekily, offering but not forcing.

He’s surprised as you eagerly crawl down his body, curling over his thigh while taking his cock in your fist. Your back is to him once more, but beggars can’t be choosers, especially while he’s stuffed in your mouth so perfectly. His fingers drag along your spine, palm splaying flat to soothe the sensation quickly after. His hand stills and stomach flexes as you take as much of him as you can, pumping your tight fist over the remainder of his length.

“Fuck me,” he shutters mindlessly, “feels so good, amor. Treating me so good.”

The praises fuel you, moaning around his tip as he continues to trace shapeless trails onto your back. Your mind feels cloudy, not thunderstorms and impending doom cloudy, but rather a sunny, breezy, nothing could ever go wrong kind of cloudy. You feel taken care of for once, free to slip into a warm, blissful state with Joel. He feels safe.

“Come back, preciosa,” he grins as you make your way back up his body. He doesn’t hesitate to kiss you deeply once more, running his hands gently all over your skin as you settle on top of him.

“Missed ya,” he chuckles, kissing your swollen pout a few more times before wetting his fingertips with his spit. He reaches down, circling your clit as his cock twitches against your seam. Your head falls beside his, feeling too heavy to hold up on your own.

Joel protrudes your cunt once more, nestling into you carefully at first. You writhe over him at the push and pull of his cock inside your fluttering walls, hips snapping down against his with subtle slaps of skin rejoicing. He picks up his pace beneath you, overwhelming your senses a bit too quickly.

You work your core to sit up, fully sheathed with his length as you grind against him. He grips onto your hips, watching you use him for your own pleasure.

“Tan bonita, amor,” he hums smugly, his fingertips dancing along your bare thigh, his other hand tucked behind his head to prop himself up. “So pretty, mami, fuck.”

He tweaks his fingers against your nipples, pinching the pebbled flesh carefully as you ride his lap. Tufts of his neat pubic hair scratch at your clit, the friction of everything causing you to soak his lap further. You’re being pushed to your limits, throat dry and voice hoarse. Joel wishes to have put water on his bedside table, he would’ve had he’d known you’d end up here so quickly.

“Doin’ okay, sweetheart?” He checks in, toying with your fingers that have found a home on his chest. You silently nod, eyelids low and face contoured with bliss.

“Think you can give me one more, bebita? Come on my cock one more time and I’ll give you whatever you need.”

Your voice hardly sounds like your own, but you mean it when you tell him yes, please. He feels it when you clamp down on his length, his thighs tensing so tight they almost cramp. His legs hinge at the knee, body pivoting you forward into his chest. Joel grabs fistfuls of your ass as he fucks up into you, all of the air leaving your lungs.

His grunts and groans become less calculated and intentional, thrusts becoming sloppier and instinctual. You squeeze him tight, toes curling as you already tumble towards your impending high.

“Mierda,” he hisses, strong arms pressing your torso firmly to his. His lips consume your every breath, whine and borderline scream.

“Take it, use me, amor. Dámelo, cariño, and I’ll give you my cum. Take it from me,” he grunts sharply, pressing into you impossibly deeper and faster. Your skin bursts into flames, embers showering your body as he pulls that final high from you. You shutter above him, dead weight against his body as he uses you to finish himself off. He evacuates your warmth and pumps out his load between your sticky, worn out figures with a drawn out groan.

Joel makes the first move to stand up, cock softening and hanging between his legs. He starts to step towards his en suite bathroom to find a towel, but you reach for him.

“I’m just gettin’ somethin’ to clean you up, honey,” he smiles before seeing a sadness in your eyes, longing for him to come back. Tears prickle your eyes and Joel quickly makes his way back to the bed.

“Okay, okay, I’ll stay, baby, cálmate,” he hushes carefully, holding you close to him. “We’ll getcha cleaned up in a little bit, I’ll make you whatever you fancy for supper and relax with you, sound good?”

A nod suffices his question, knowing you trust him enough to stay rather than run off eases him as he grounds you back to reality with his warm embrace.

to stay up to date on when I post fics, follow @pascalpvnk-writes and turn on notifications! i hope you enjoyed xx

#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #my writing #fic: take it from me

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spencerswh0re · 6 months

Text

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐞𝐱𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 - 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

A/N - HI!! i love love love spencer reid and i spend most of my time reading fanfics of him, so i thought i would give writing some of my own a shot! this is my first fic (recently, i used to write wattpad fics when i was like 12) so bear with me :))

word count - 1,482

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 - 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐮𝐦𝐚 𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞, 𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩, 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐬, 𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐣𝐨𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐀𝐔, 𝐚 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟.

spencers life had been hard. there was no point in sugar coating it, he’d been through a lot. being kidnapped, developing a drug addiction, his girlfriend being killed directly in front of him and being to prison were only a handful of the things that had gone wrong in his life. and even after all of this trauma, he still managed to stay the same person. or atleast, mostly the same person.

one big thing had changed after prison and his encounters with cat adams. spencer had always been a hopeless romantic, he dreamed of the day he would meet a nice woman, settle down with her, and live out the life he had always wanted. but after dealing with some confusing feelings for a hitman, he had started to lose hope in ever finding love.

spencer was a 39 year old man, and he had still not found his perfect woman, he was starting to think she didn’t exist.

this was why he gave up. he stopped dating, stopped blushing and stammering whenever he met an attractive woman, and instead, he became charming. it became a common occurrence for spencer reid to spend his evenings in the bar, wooing a woman back to bed with him. he would bid them farewell the next morning, and that would be that. and it worked, it kept him satisfied, for a while.

until it didn’t.

the day you walked into the bullpen of the BAU, things changed for spencer reid.

you were beautiful, easily the prettiest girl he had ever seen, you were young, and had this innocence about you, he knew, from the very beginning, that he wanted you.

it was barely a week after you started on the team when spencer realised why he was so attracted to you.

the team was on the jet home from your first case, it had been a relatively easy one, they had caught the unsub in 2 days, and saved his final victim.

“we shouldn’t even be flying in these conditions” rossi had complained, referring to the heavy rain and strong winds “what if we get struck by lightning?”

just as spencer was about to spit out a random fact about flying during lightning, you beat him to it.

“actually, aircraft’s are designed to deal with lightning strikes, modern planes are designed to spread electric currents through the fuselage and funnel them out through the tail, bypassing the plane interior entirely. the last major accident occurred in 1967, when a stray strike caused a poorly-designed plane’s fuel tank to explode, so even if we were to be struck, which is highly unlikely, we’d be perfectly fine” you had rushed it out quickly, and spencer could tell from your blushing cheeks and shy smile that you were embarrassed over your rambling.

“sorry” you said, quietly, looking down at your hands in your lap.

“hey, reid, it seems y/l/n is a mini version of you, maybe we’ll have to replace you” emily had said, laughing lightheartedly. spencer, however, was stuck in place, eyes locked on you. he couldn’t believe it, he had found out earlier in the week that you were 24, just out of the academy, but you had been put straight into a specialised unit based off of your impressive qualifications. he realised, in that moment, that he didn’t just want you in the way he wants other women, he wanted you for real, he was falling for you.

the plane ride went painfully slowly after that.

a few months later, nothing had changed, except for the fact you had made it more and more difficult for him to keep away from you. ever morning, you would walk straight over to his desk, wishing him a cheery "good morning!" before perching yourself down next to his files and asking him about his night.

he had never been one to talk to his co workers about his sex life, but sometimes he would make an exception, because at least he had stories to be telling, but recently, there hadn't been anything to tell.

the night that they got back from your very first case, the team had gone to the bar to celebrate, after everybody had left, he made his was to the bar for one final drink, and to choose his target for the night, however, his plans had been ruined, when he'd seen you, across the bar, talking to some guy. spencer held back a scoff, he was obviously an asshole, he was tall (yet, not quite as tall as him) and buff. you were clearly feeling uncomfortable, and he knew that you had had one too many, and you weren't in the right state of mind. he walked over, told you it was time to go home, and got you in his car.

you were asleep before he could ask for your address.

after fighting with himself a little, he eventually decided to take you back to his place, you took the bed, he took the couch.

after that night, he hadn't been able to be with anybody else, he hadn't wanted to be with anybody else.

"oh, you know, same old, what about you?" he responded.

"nothing much really, um.. I actually wanted to talk to you about something.." you told him

shit. now he was scared, had he done something to make you upset? had he made his feelings for you too clear and made you uncomfortable? had he-

"I uh- I noticed your spock pop figure on your desk, i've got the entire Star Trek box set at home... I was wondering if you might wanna come over? we can get something to eat, maybe get to know each other better?"

he didn't know what to say, this was y/n y/l/n, the girl he had been pining over for months, and she was asking him out? of course he wanted to say yes, that much was obvious, but he hadn't been in a real relationship since maeve, and even that didn't really count.

you were young, and so innocent, he was tainted, his hands were dirty, his mind haunted by the things he had done in prison, he didn't want to corrupt you.

you obviously took his silence as a no, and quickly jumped back in.

"if not that's totally fine too! I just thought it might be fun"

and just as he was about to politely reject you, he looked into your eyes.

innocent, yes. but there was something else, something that reminded him an awful lot of a feeling he had never truly felt. love. he knew then what he had to do.

"that sounds like fun, y/n, ill come over tonight at 6:00?" he responded with a smile.

"yes! yes! my address is 16 cornelia street, apartment 17."

"excellent, ill be there" he said

and he was.

at 5:57, he was waiting outside of your door, holding a bunch of flowers, and wearing an outfit he had spent far to long picking out. he knew it was a casual thing, and he knew you would just be staying home, so he decided to wear something he had never worn before. sweatpants. he had gone to the store to buy them immediately after work. along with a baggy Star Trek t shirt.

when he finally gathered up the courage to knock, you answered almost immediately, and he was speechless.

you looked beautiful, you were wearing a pair of white sweatpants along with a tight grey vest top, your hair was down, and you were wearing an adorable pair of bunny slippers.

when he finally snapped out of his trance, he stuck the flowers out in your direction with a quiet "these are for you"

your response came quickly, and with a smile "they're beautiful, spencer, thank you. I ordered chinese food, i hope that's alright" you said as you walked into the kitchen to find a vase.

not as beautiful as you. he wanted to say, but he settled for a shy nod and a smile instead.

after dinner, the two of you took a seat of your couch and began watching the first movie.

he wasn't satisfied.

he moved a little bit closer.

still wasnt enough.

he considered pulling out the cringey yawning trick, but decided against it, instead, deciding to touch your pinky with his own.

still, not quite enough.

towards the end of the first movie, you mored close enough so that you could put your had on his chest.

"is this okay?" you whispered, so quiet he could hardly hear you over the TV.

"more than okay" he whispered back, putting his arm around your shoulders to keep to close.

he realised, right there in that moment, that he was done with the girls, and the bars, this, right here, with you in his arms, was exactly where he was supposed to be.

A/N - OKAY!! the ending was slightly rushed, I'm sorry, but I'm very very tired and I have class tomorrow, but I wanted to get this done. if you liked it, let me know, send me requests if you want <3

#spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #first post #please dont bully me im trying

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