#'what do you expect taking stuff he gives you'

[soft-beams]

okay, so i had camgirl!reader x vi in my mind so i decided to write a little something...i couldn't resist!!

camgirl!reader x vi

"Hey, can you loan me like five dollars?" Jinx asks, hand already held out to receive what she's asked for. Vi stares at it with a raised brow before pushing it away.

"No," she replies, rolling her eyes when Jinx gasps in feigned shock.

"No?" she questions with enough dramatics to win an Oscar. "To your own sister? Your own flesh and blood?"

"Yeah," Vi says, unaffected by the being that is Jinx. "I don't have the money to spare today. If you really need it, why not ask Ekko?"

Jinx pouts. "Because he's gonna give it to me and I like to fight for it," she says. "Besides, you never not give me money. Yeah, you'll bitch about it, but you're usually reaching into your wallet while doing that." She reaches out to flick Vi's forehead, easily dodging when Vi swats her hand away. "So what gives?"

"It's nothing," Vi stresses; expect it isn't nothing.

It's actually a lot of something.

Vi isn't one to shy away from admitting that she's broke.

If she is, she'll tell you because why hide the struggle that 99.99% of people go through every day?

No, she isn't shy about that.

However, she is shy about admitting why she's broke because it'll make her sound stupid and borderline obsessive.

Which she is, but that's something she'd like to keep to herself until the end of the time.

That the reason she's broke is because of a camgirl she discovered over a month ago and has her gripped by her metaphorical balls.

But it's not her fault that you're so pretty with your cute laugh, gorgeous smile and moans that resemble siren calls. Or that every time she sees you pleasure yourself, she loses a few more brain cells and oh no, her wallet's open again.

It's also not her fault that she feels this need to look after you and to give you everything you desire. Whether it be from your Amazon wishlist or some extra cash because you said, in passing, that you felt like ordering take-out for dinner. It makes her feel as if she's there for you, that she's providing for you.

Even if it's in some fucked up parasocial way.

So.

"I have bills to pay," Vi settles on, ignoring the suspicious look Jinx gives her. "Not all of us can live with our boyfriends rent and bill free."

"He insists I don't pay!" Jinx argues. "Every time I try to suggest it, he tells me not to worry about it." She pauses. "He also buys me gifts and stuff...is Ekko my sugar daddy?"

Vi nearly chokes as Jinx continues rambling about how Ekko could have turned her into a sugar baby.

But that's fine.

Better that than her younger sister discovering that she's spending her cost of living on a pretty girl on the internet.

Jinx would never let her live it down.

[adventures-with-ana]

Usually, I'm not into the dark stuff, the non-con, the what have you... But vikings intrigue me. The amount of attention to detail most fanfic authors give their fics is fascinating. The worlds you create, the way this one drew me in and painted a beautiful and haunting picture...

Steve is always the good boy, golden retriever type but when an author decides to make a Dark!Steve, by god do y'all go all out with it. Bucky is the easy choice for dark fics, with his background as the Soldier, it's so easy to see; easy to believe. But fucking hell... Dark!Steve is mesmerizing in the best and worst ways. Especially here. The viking warrior king who simply takes what he wants and doesn't give a damn about anything else. Makes a hoe weak.

Certainly wasn't how I had expected things to end, with how the rest of the story went, but I'm perversely excited about the fact that he's planning on keeping her, on taking her with him. There's something there, and I want that seed watered until it's a fifty foot oak in the middle of the front lawn.

So Black the Darkness Hums

Characters/Pairings: Viking King Steve Rogers x curvy Female!Reader, unnamed husband of reader Word Count: 9.1k Summary: Your wedding day is destroyed when your village is raided by the vicious king Steven and his viking warriors. He will lay claim to all he wants, including you.

Content/Warnings: DARK, invoking prima nocta, non-consent/rape, stealing of virginity, explicit smut (oral - male and female receiving, unprotected sex, vaginal fingering, vaginal intercourse, anal fingering, anal intercourse, breastplay, overstimulation, orgasm denial, forced orgasms), use of pet name (little bride), dacryphilia, innocence kink, implied breeding kink, exhibitionism, human tribute/trade

Notes: I was struck by the idea of a very mean viking Steve last Thursday, and he would not let me go. Thanks to the encouragements from @biteofcherry, @witchywithwhiskey, and @vonalyn. An unapologetically brutal offering for the ninth week of Chris-mas.

Additional Note: I've gone with the term magnate over chieftan per this source.

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

You had already made a long walk, dressed in white, towards a man today. But where this morning, you had walked happily in the sunlight to your betrothed - the eldest son of the village magnate, now you walk over the flagstones of the village hall to the seat typically occupied by the magnate.

A seat now filled by the brutal and terrifying Steven - warrior and king of an army which had landed on the shores of your village to raid and conquer today.

And conquer they had.

Your white dress, once pristine and flowing, now clings to your skin, damp with sweat and streaked with dirt and leaves. The veil that had adorned your hair this morning lies discarded somewhere in the forest, torn away by grasping branches as you fled.

The memory of your desperate flight from your wedding into the woods plays in your mind like a fevered dream. The screams of the villagers, the clash of steel, the acrid smell of smoke as buildings burned – all of it had driven you and a group of women and children to seek refuge among the ancient oaks. The forest, usually a place of comfort and familiarity, became a labyrinth of terror as you led the group deeper and deeper, branches scratching at your arms and face, tearing at the delicate fabric of your gown. The sounds of pursuit never seemed to fade, no matter how far you ran.

As dusk fell, you huddled together, exhausted, praying to gods old and new that you would not be found. But the gods were silent, and the crunch of heavy boots on fallen leaves had filled their absence. You were all bound and forced back.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you approach the throne, each step echoing in the cavernous hall. The white gown that once symbolized joy now feels like a shroud.

The smell of blood and sweat permeates the room, a stark contrast to the polished wood and fine tapestries of the hall.

Steven's piercing eyes lock onto yours, a predatory gleam reflecting in their depths like shards of ice. His massive frame dwarfs the ornate chair, his battle-scarred hands gripping the armrests with a strength that could crush them at any moment. A round, wooden shield leans against the side of the throne. He looks both handsome and terrifying, his rugged features perfectly fitting for a fierce Viking warrior. The intensity in his gaze sends shivers down your spine, making you wonder if he is capable of unspeakable violence or if it is all just an act to maintain his reputation as a fearsome leader. Either way, there is no denying the raw power emanating from him, and you find yourself unable to tear your eyes away from this captivating figure before you.

Your steps falter, but a rough shove from one of Steven's men propels you forward. You stumble, nearly falling at the conqueror's feet.

"So," Steven's voice booms, a mix of amusement and contempt. "You are the bride I've heard so much about."

His face is scarred, weathered by countless battles, but still impossibly handsom, and his eyes gleam with intelligence. You see something there – a flicker that suggests he is not just a brutal conqueror, but a man with depth and complexity.

Dangerous.

"I hear you were married to the fine magnate’s son," Steven continues, a cruel smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "How fortunate that I've arrived in time for the celebration."

Your throat constricts, choking back the bitter retort that threatens to escape. You force yourself to square your shoulders and hold his gaze, summoning every ounce of courage you possess.

Steven's eyes narrow as he studies you, his gaze raking over your disheveled form with predatory intensity. He leans forward, the worn leather of his armor creaking with the movement.

"Come closer, little bride," he beckons, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down your spine.

Your feet feel leaden as you force yourself to take another step forward. You are by no means small, but he is so large in comparison that the term ‘little’ apply to most who come into his presence. The flagstones beneath you are cold and unforgiving, a stark contrast to the soft grass you had walked upon just hours before, your heart full of hope and promise.

Steven's lips curl into a wolfish grin as you approach. "Tell me," he says, his voice deceptively casual, "were you to be a proper bride for your husband?"

The insinuation in his words is clear, and heat rises to your cheeks. You can feel the eyes of his men upon you, their gazes hungry and leering. You swallow hard, struggling to maintain your composure.

"I was to be a dutiful wife," you manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Steven's laughter booms through the hall, echoing off the stone walls. "Dutiful," he repeats, mockery dripping from the word. "And what duties did you imagine, little bride? Mending his clothes? Warming his bed?"

Your fists clench at your sides, nails digging into your palms. The urge to lash out, to scream defiance in his face, is almost overwhelming. But you force yourself to remain still, knowing that any show of rebellion could mean death – not just for you, but for the other villagers as well.

"Whatever duties were required of me," you reply, striving to keep your voice steady.

Steven leans back in the chair. "Tell me, little bride, do you know what happens to dutiful wives when their husbands fall?"

Your stomach churns at his words, but you force yourself to stand tall. "I imagine they mourn," you reply, a hint of defiance creeping into your voice.

The warrior king's eyes flash dangerously. In one fluid motion, he rises from the chair, towering over you. His hand, calloused and rough, grasps your chin, forcing you to look up at him.

"Oh, he may have wished for death in battle, but he was merely conquered an imprisoned.”

There’s a small relief, but it’s fleeting as you know this is far from over.

“Dutiful wives plead and bargain what they can to spare their husbands an even crueler fate.”

You tremble with both fear and anger.

“And the bride of the magnate’s eldest son needs to bargain for far more than the fate of only one man.”

Your sink to your knees at Steven's words, now with the fate of your village laid at your hands. Your once-pristine dress pools around you like spilled milk over the cold flagstones. The stone bites into your skin, a sharp reminder of how far you've fallen in just one day.

Tears blur your vision as you look up at Steven, his massive form looming over you like a colossus. The firelight from nearby sconces casts dancing shadows across his face, making his scars seem to writhe like serpents.

"Please," you whisper, your voice cracking. "Spare them. Spare the village. We are simple folk, we have nothing to offer but our loyalty and our labor."

A low chuckle rumbles from Steven's chest. "Getting on your knees is a good start, little bride," he says, his voice low.

Your cheeks burn with humiliation at his words, but you force yourself to remain kneeling. The fate of your village, your family, your new husband – all of it rests on your shoulders now.

Steven circles you slowly, like a predator sizing up its prey. His heavy boots echo on the stone floor, each step sending a shiver down your spine. You can feel the eyes of his men upon you, their gazes a palpable weight.

"Loyalty and labor," Steven muses, coming to a stop before you. "Those are indeed valuable commodities. But I wonder, little bride, if you truly understand the depths of loyalty I require."

He crouches down, bringing his face level with yours. His breath is hot on your cheek as he speaks. "Your village will serve me, yes. But you... you will be the seal on our bargain. The trophy of my conquest."

Your heart stops.

“And to my earlier curiosity, I shall ask plainly and have you answer me in kind: are you a virgin bride? Untouched? Unsullied?”

You close your eyes and nod.

If you had been harboring any hope your fate would not turn this way, it has vanished now.

“A king is entitled, if he so chooses, to invoke the rite of prima nocta.”

Your blood runs cold at Steven's words. Prima nocta - the right of the first night. An ancient, barbaric custom that you had only heard whispered about in hushed tones. Never did you imagine it would become your reality.

"No," you whisper, the word escaping your lips before you can stop it. You immediately regret it as Steven's eyes flash dangerously.

He grabs your chin roughly, forcing you to meet his gaze. "No?" he growls. "You dare refuse me? Perhaps you need a reminder of your position."

With a snap of his fingers, two of his men drag forward a bound figure, depositing him on his knees off to the side but in clear view. Your heart sinks as you recognize your new husband, his body littered with cuts and bruises.

"For every refusal, every act of defiance," Steven says coldly, "he will suffer. And not just him. Your family, your friends, you are all of you conquered and my men can hunt through this village to pull any one of them here if it serves me.”

Your eyes well with tears because you do not doubt his resolve.

“You will spare them if I give you my maidenhood?”

He straightens back up to his full height. “I think I could spare your village for at least one night.”

Steven turns to his men, waving a dismissive hand. "Leave us," he commands, his voice echoing through the hall. "But the husband stays. He will bear witness."

The soldiers file out, swiftly acquiescing to their king’s request. The heavy doors slam shut behind them, the sound reverberating through your bones. Now it is just the three of you - conqueror, conquered, and the terrified bride between.

Steven's fingers tangle in your hair, forcing your head back. His other hand works at the fastenings of his breeches. "Show me how dutiful you can be, little bride," he growls.

Steven towers over you, his massive frame blocking out the flickering light from the nearby braziers. You can smell the leather of his armor, the tang of sweat and metal that clings to his skin.

Your eyes flicker to your husband, but he refuses to look at you, apparently unwilling to watch. You would not have him suffer, but his refusal to even look your way hurts. You held no silly romantic notions for the eldest son of the magnate, but he was a fine man, good, you had been happy to make a match with him, and you thought there was a growing affection between you.

“Do not look at him, little bride,” Steven growls, impatiently shaking you by the hair. “Why are you looking at him? Look at me. He can not help you.”

You force your gaze back to Steven, your heart pounding. His eyes bore into yours, dark with desire and cruel triumph. You swallow hard, trying to find your voice.

"I... I don't know what to do," you whisper, heat flaming your cheeks. It's true - you are a virgin, after all, and the mechanics of what he expects are foreign to you.

Steven's laugh is low and mocking. "Oh, little bride," he says, his voice a rumble. "I'll teach you everything you need to know."

His hand leaves your hair, moving to cup your face. His thumb traces your lower lip, rough and calloused. "Open," he commands.

You hesitate, your eyes darting once more to your husband. This time, his gaze meets yours, and you see the resentment burning in them. It wounds you more than anything this cruel conquering king has done to you so far.

Steeling yourself, you look back up at Steven and part your lips.

His thumb pushes into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue. "Suck," he commands.

With trembling lips, you obey, closing your mouth around his thick digit. The taste of salt and leather fills your senses as you tentatively suck on his thumb. Steven's eyes darken with lust, a low growl rumbling in his chest.

"Good girl," he murmurs, his free hand working at the laces of his breeches. "That's it, use your tongue."

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you obey, swirling your tongue around his digit, your cheeks burning with shame. You try to focus solely on the task at hand, to forget where you are and what's happening. But the sound of your husband's labored breathing, the cold stone beneath your knees, the looming presence of Steven above you – it all serves as a stark reminder of your situation.

The sound of fabric rustling makes your stomach clench.

Steven withdraws his thumb, replacing it with two fingers. They press deeper into your mouth, nearly making you gag. "Breathe through your nose," he instructs. "You'll need to learn this."

Your heart races as you struggle to follow his command, fighting against your gag reflex as his fingers probe deeper. The taste of salt and leather is overwhelming, and you can feel saliva gathering at the corners of your mouth.

"Open your eyes," Steven growls. "I want you to see everything."

Reluctantly, you obey, your gaze meeting his. His eyes are dark with lust, a predatory gleam that makes you shiver. With his free hand, he finishes unlacing his breeches, pushing them down just enough to free himself.

Your eyes widen at the sight of him, fully aroused and intimidatingly large. A whimper escapes you around his fingers, and he smirks.

"Don't worry, you'll learn to take all of me in time."

Steven withdraws his fingers from your mouth, leaving you gasping. His hand moves to grip your hair again, tilting your head back as he positions himself before you.

"Open wide, little bride," he commands, his voice husky with desire.

You hesitate, your heart pounding in your chest. The reality of what's about to happen crashes over you like a wave. But then you hear a pained grunt from your husband, and you know you have no choice. Closing your eyes, you part your lips.

Steven wastes no time, pushing himself into your mouth with a groan of satisfaction. The taste is foreign, salty and musky, and you struggle not to gag as he fills your mouth.

"Use your tongue," he instructs, his hand tightening in your hair. "And mind your teeth."

Tears stream down your face as you try to obey, running your tongue along the length of him. Your whole body trembles with fear and revulsion, but his grip on your hair is unrelenting. He thrusts in and out of your mouth, setting a brutal pace that makes you gag and gasp for air.

"You're doing well, my little bride," Steven grunts, his voice thick with lust. "Just relax and take it all in."

You try to comply, but it's a struggle. Your eyes water from the force of his movements, and you feel like you're choking on him. But you know you have no choice but to endure it or risk angering him further.

As he continues to use your mouth for his pleasure, you feel a sense of detachment wash over you. It's like watching yourself from a distance, your body merely a tool for his satisfaction. You can't believe this is happening – this reality had never even haunted your nightmares.

A sharp pain shoots through your scalp as Steven tugs harder on your hair, pulling your head back even further. You whimper at the sting, struggling against the urge to cry out.

"You make such beautiful noises," he growls. "But I want more from you."

With that, he starts thrusting deeper into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat each time. You choke and gag around him, tears flowing freely down your cheeks now.

But then something changes – he starts moving faster and faster until suddenly he stills inside you with a groan of release. Your mouth is flooded with his release, and you swallow what you can, tasting him on your tongue as he pulls out of your mouth, leaving it feeling raw and sore. A mess of tears, his cum, and your drool drip down your neck as you gasp for air.

Steven's thumb roughly grazes down your cheek, a false gesture of affection. Then he speaks, his eyes moving from you to your husband. "Such a pretty thing," he purrs. "Isn't she?" the question - a taunt - directed at your husband.

He shifts uncomfortably, avoiding eye contact with both of you. Steven's laughter fills the room as he continues, "They say you are a noble and good man, always treating her right. I bet you would never ask her to do anything degrading, may have waited weeks or moths before coaxing her to suck your cock."

You don’t even know how to react to what he is saying and how the other man is reacting - or not reacting - to Steve’s words.

“You would never use her.”

Steven’s focus shifts fully back to you.

“But I will.”

A small whimper escapes from your chest as he roughly grabs your chin.

“I will ruin you and wreck you for my pleasure, and he does not get to see what I will do to you next.”

The other man makes a strangled sound, finally trying to fight his bonds.

Steven laughs darkly. “It may have tortured you to watch,” he says, and then leans down and scoops you up from the floor and into his arms - bridal style to drive the point of his dominance and the humiliation of your special day home, “but not knowing what I do to your bride next will eat you alive for the rest of your days.”

As Steven carries you from the hall, your world becomes a blur of sensations and emotions. The warmth of his body contrasts sharply with the cold dread settling in your stomach. His arms, corded with muscle, hold you firmly against his broad chest, and you wrap your arms around his neck for steadiness as he moves so swiftly. The scent of leather, sweat, and something distinctly male envelops you in such close proximity, making your head spin.

As he carries you from the great hall, you find yourself unable to look away from his face. The flickering torchlight casts deep shadows across his features, accentuating the sharp angles of his cheekbones and the curve of his jaw. His eyes, when they meet yours, are dark and cold like the sea in a storm, and it chills your bones. He leans down and steals a fast, ruthless kiss, nipping at your bottom lip, and you look away when he ends it, uncomfortable with the sensation it stirs in your belly.

The corridors of the village hall, once so familiar, now seem alien and menacing. Shadows dance on the walls, cast by flickering torches, creating grotesque shapes that mirror the turmoil in your mind. The stone beneath Steven's feet echoes with each step, a rhythm that matches the frantic beating of your heart.

You pass tapestries depicting scenes from your village's history - harvests, celebrations, battles long past. They mock you now, reminders of a life that seems to have ended mere hours ago.

As Steven carries you further into the depths of the hall, the familiar corridors give way to parts of the building you've never seen before. The air grows cooler, damper, and you shiver involuntarily against his chest. He notices, a cruel smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

"Cold, little bride?" he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. "Don't worry, I'll warm you up soon enough."

You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to block out his words, to pretend this isn't happening. But the solid warmth of his body against yours, the strength in his arms as he carries you, makes denial impossible.

Finally, Steven comes to a stop before a heavy wooden door. With one hand still supporting you, he reaches out and pushes it open. The hinges creak ominously, and your heart rate spikes as he carries you across the threshold.

The room is dimly lit by a few sputtering candles, casting long shadows across the stone walls. In the center stands a large bed, draped in furs and silks - a stark contrast to the simple furnishings you're accustomed to. You see the ceremonial bridal lace, embroidered with the flower of the magnate’s clan, laying atop the other furs and silks and realize this was the bedchamber intended for you and your husband. The irony is not lost on you - this room, where you should have spent your wedding night and started your new life with your new husband, will now be the site of your defilement.

Steven tosses you onto the bed unceremoniously, and you land with a gasp, your white dress billowing around you.

Steven looms over you, his massive frame blocking out the dim candlelight. His eyes rove over your body hungrily, and you feel exposed despite still being fully clothed. You try to curl in on yourself, to shield your body from his gaze, but he tsks disapprovingly.

"Now, now, little bride," he says, his voice low and dangerous. "Don't hide from me. I want to see all of you."

His hands move to the laces of your dress, and you flinch away instinctively. Steven's eyes narrow, and he grabs your wrists, pinning them above your head with one large hand. With his other hand, he reaches for a knife at his hip, brings it up to the neckline of your dress, positioning the cool blade between your skin and the fabric and pulls down swiftly, tearing your dress down the middle. He releases your hands so he can use both to finish ripping away your clothing, throwing it to the floor. Your attempts to fight him are easily shunted, and once you’re naked, he presses you back down to the bed, pressing the blade of the knife cruelly to your neck, just below your jaw.

“Do not think I will maintain much patience. I will not hesitate to punish if you continue to resist,” he promises. “Understand?”

“Yes,” you whisper, a tear escaping and rolling slowly down your cheek.

“Good," he says, his voice low and husky, "it's time to consummate the arrangement you agreed to fulfill."

He moves away, positioning himself next to the bed. His hands move to the fastenings of his leather armor, slowly removing each piece, then his shirt. The firelight gleams off his muscled torso as it's revealed, highlighting scars that tell tales of countless battles. You can't help but stare, a mix of fear and unwanted fascination coursing through you.

Steven notices your gaze and smirks. "Like what you see?" he taunts.

You quickly avert your eyes.

Steven chuckles darkly. "Don't be shy now, little bride. You'll become very familiar with every inch of me soon enough."

He finishes undressing, his massive frame now fully revealed in the flickering candlelight. Despite your fear and revulsion, you can't help but notice the raw power of his body - all hard muscle and battle scars. He is undeniably handsome in a rugged, dangerous way that makes your heart race with a confusing mix of terror and unwanted attraction.

Steven climbs onto the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight as he looms over you. His hand trails down your body, callused fingers leaving goosebumps in their wake. You shiver involuntarily, eyes closing.

"Open your eyes," he commands. "I want you to see everything I do to you."

Reluctantly, you obey, your gaze meeting his. His eyes are dark with lust, a predatory gleam that makes you shiver. He looms over you, his muscled body casting you in shadow.

"Please," you whisper, a final, desperate plea. "You don't have to do this."

Steven's hand cups your face. “But I want to,” he growls, “and I always take what I want.”

His lips crash down on yours, harsh and demanding. You whimper against his mouth, overwhelmed by his forcefulness. His tongue pushes past your lips, exploring every inch of your mouth as his hand slides down to grip your breast roughly.

You gasp at the sensation, your body betraying you as your nipple hardens under his touch. Steven chuckles against your lips.

"Your body knows what it wants, even if your mind resists," he murmurs, his thumb circling your nipple teasingly.

His hand continues its travels lower, skimming over your stomach before reaching the junction between your thighs. You try to squeeze your legs shut, but his knee wedges between them, forcing them apart and settling himself between them. His fingers find your most intimate place, and you jerk at the unfamiliar touch.

"So soft," he growls, his fingers exploring the apex between your thighs. "And already getting wet for me."

You flush with shame, hating your body's involuntary response, feeling things you’ve never felt before and with a cruel stranger instead of the man you had pledged yourself to, built a budding relationship and trust with through your courtship.

"So responsive," he murmurs against your lips. "And so tight. This will hurt, little bride, but I'll make it good for you too."

His fingers probe deeper, and you cry out at the intrusion. Steven's mouth moves to your neck, sucking and biting as his fingers work between your legs. You feel a building pressure, your body responding against your will to his ministrations.

"That's it," he murmurs against your skin. "Let yourself feel it."

Tears stream down your face as waves of unwanted pleasure course through you. Your hips buck involuntarily against his hand, seeking more of the sensation.

Steven chuckles darkly. "So eager now," he taunts. "Are you ready for me, little bride?"

Before you can respond, he positions himself at your entrance. You feel the blunt pressure of him against you, and panic rises in your chest.

"Wait," you gasp. "Please, I'm not-"

But Steven doesn't wait. With one powerful thrust, he sheathes himself inside you. The pain is sharp and immediate, tearing a cry from your throat. Steven groans in pleasure, his massive frame pinning you to the bed.

"So tight," he growls, his breath hot against your ear. "You feel even better than I imagined."

Tears stream down your face as he begins to move, each thrust sending waves of pain through your body. You turn your head away, unable to look at him, but his hand grips your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze.

"I told you to watch," he snarls. "I want to see the moment you break."

His pace increases, and you whimper with each brutal thrust. The pain begins to dull, replaced by a strange, burning sensation that spreads through your lower body. Your breath comes in short gasps, matching the rhythm of his movements.

You whimper beneath him, your body trembling with the shock of the intrusion. Steven's hand cups your face, his thumb wiping away a tear that has escaped down your cheek. The gesture is almost tender, a stark contrast to the brutality of his actions.

"Breathe," he commands softly. "The pain will pass."

You try to breathe more evenly, but it feels impossible as he maintains his brutal, relentless pace.

Your body feels torn between pain and an unfamiliar, building pleasure. You hate yourself for responding to his touch, for the way your hips begin to move in rhythm with his thrusts. Steven notices, a triumphant gleam in his eyes.

"There it is," he growls, his pace quickening. "Your body knows what it wants, even if you deny it."

His hand snakes between your bodies, finding a sensitive bundle of nerves above where you're joined. You cry out as he begins to circle it with his thumb, waves of sensation crashing over you.

"Let go," Steven commands, his voice husky with exertion. "Come for me, little bride."

Your body obeys even as your mind recoils. The pressure builds and builds until it finally shatters, your back arching as you cry out. Steven groans, his thrusts becoming erratic as he follows you over the edge, spilling himself deep inside you with a guttural moan.

For a moment, the only sound in the room is your mingled breathing. Steven's weight presses you into the mattress, his body slick with sweat. You lie there, trembling, tears streaming silently down your face as the reality of what just happened washes over you.

Steven lifts himself onto his elbows, looking down at you with an unreadable expression. His hand cups your cheek, thumb brushing away your tears. "You did well, little bride," he murmurs, his voice uncharacteristically gentle.

The tenderness in his touch and his voice confuses you, but the moment passes because his eyes

arken once more as he gazes down at you. "The night is far from over," he murmurs, his voice husky with renewed desire.

He shifts his massive body, moving downward until his face is level with your breasts. His rough hands cup the soft flesh, kneading and squeezing with a possessive grip that makes you gasp. You feel his hot breath against your skin, sending involuntary shivers through your body.

Steven's mouth descends on your left breast, his tongue swirling around your nipple before he takes it between his lips. He sucks hard, drawing a whimper from your throat. His teeth graze the sensitive bud, sending jolts of sensation through your body.

He alternates between your breasts, sucking and biting with increasing intensity. What starts as pleasure soon edges into discomfort, then pain. Your nipples, sensitive and swollen from his attention, ache as he continues his ministrations. You squirm beneath him, trying to escape the overwhelming sensations, but his body pins you firmly to the bed.

"Please," you gasp, "it's too much."

Steven lifts his head, his eyes dark with lust. "Nothing is too much for you, little bride," he growls. "You'll take everything I give you and beg for more."

His mouth returns to your breast, biting down hard enough to leave a mark. You cry out, tears springing to your eyes yet again. The pain mingles with a confusing undercurrent of pleasure, your body betraying you once again.

Steven's hand slides down your body, fingers finding the sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs. He begins to stroke in slow, deliberate circles, and you feel yourself responding despite your best efforts to resist. You’re shocked at how your dripping hole is aching again already. These sensations are foreign to you and frightening to experience at his hand.

Steven's fingers move with expert precision, building a slow, inexorable tension in your core. His mouth continues its assault on your breasts, alternating between gentle sucks and sharp nips that send jolts of sensation through your body. The dual stimulation overwhelms your senses, leaving you gasping and writhing beneath him.

His fingers quicken their pace, circling your sensitive bud with increasing pressure. The tension coils tighter and tighter, a spring wound to the breaking point. Your hips begin to move of their own accord, chasing the building pleasure despite your mind's desperate attempts to resist.

Steven's mouth moves to your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. "That's it," he growls, his voice low and husky.

Your body trembles on the edge of release, every muscle taut with anticipation. Just as you feel yourself teetering on the edge of release, Steven suddenly withdraws his hand. You whimper at the loss, your body aching for completion. He lifts his head from your breast, a cruel smirk playing on his lips.

“I told you I would ruin you,” he murmurs, “and this is part of your ruining.”

Steven rolls onto his back, his massive frame sprawled across the bed. His eyes, dark with lust, lock onto yours as he beckons you with a crook of his finger. "Come here, little bride," he commands, his voice a low rumble. "I want to feel that pretty mouth on my cock again."

You hesitate, your body still trembling from the denied release. Steven's hand shoots out, gripping your hair and pulling you towards him. "I said, come here," he growls, his patience wearing thin.

Reluctantly, you crawl towards him, positioning yourself between his muscular thighs. His manhood lies semi-hard against his stomach, still glistening with the evidence of your earlier coupling. The sight and scent of it make your stomach churn with a mix of revulsion and unwanted arousal.

"Take me in your mouth," Steven orders, his hand still commanding the back of your head. “Show me what you’ve learned.”

Slowly, as if in a trance, you lower your trembling form towards his groin. You can't believe the turn of events that have brought you to this point – from a joyful bride to a conquered villager at the mercy of Steven and his ruthless warriors. The knowledge burns in your heart, but you force it down, focusing instead on surviving this nightmare.

As your lips touch the velvety head of his member, Steven emits a low groan of pleasure. His hand loosens its grip on your hair just enough to allow you some movement. Despite yourself, you remember the way he had thrust into your mouth earlier, how he had seemed to enjoy it when you'd used your tongue. Drawing on that brief flash of experience, you tentatively flick your tongue over his cock. The taste is overwhelming - a potent mixture of his earlier release, your own arousal, and the metallic tang of blood. It's a stark reminder of what's transpired, of your lost innocence.

Steven groans as you engulf him, his hips bucking slightly. "That's it," he murmurs, his voice husky with renewed desire. "Take it all in."

You struggle to accommodate his size, your jaw aching as you try to take more of him. His hand guides your movements, setting a steady rhythm as he uses your mouth. Your tongue teases across the sensitive underside of his shaft, encountering a vein that runs along its length, and you try to apply more pressure there. Steven groans in response, low and guttural, spurring you on.

"That's it, little bride," he grunts, the praise almost an animalistic growl. "Suck harder. Take more of me into that pretty mouth."

You struggle to obey, pushing yourself to take more of his length into your mouth. His hips begin to thrust upwards, forcing himself deeper. You choke and splutter around him, saliva dripping down your chin.

"Relax your throat," Steven commands, his voice strained with pleasure. "Breathe through your nose."

You try to follow his instructions, fighting against your gag reflex as he pushes deeper. Steven's hand tightens in your hair, guiding your movements more forcefully. "Look at me," he commands, his voice rough with desire.

You raise your eyes to meet his, your cheeks burning with shame as you continue to work your mouth over him. His gaze is dark and predatory, filled with a hunger that makes you shiver.

"Such a good little bride," he murmurs, his hips starting to thrust up to meet your mouth. "Taking my cock so well. But I think you can take more."

Without warning, he pushes your head down, forcing himself deeper into your throat. You gag and choke, face pushed flush to his pelvis. The taste and scent of him overwhelm your senses, throat struggling at his intrusion, and you feel lightheaded from the lack of air. Just when you think you can't take anymore, Steven pulls you off his cock with a wet pop.

Gasping for breath, you look up at him through tear-blurred eyes. His face is flushed with arousal, his eyes dark, but gleaming with… pride?

“You are such an exquisite, pliant thing,” he says. “It has been too long since I’ve been so well-pleased, so near insatiable.”

Your chest constricts at the praise. You did not want any of this nightmare, but his danger is novel and alluring, the unknown pleasures he’s exacting from your body, guiding you down paths you’ve never explored before - it’s all twisting your body and your very soul, seeping through your veins, a poison you can’t stop now that he’s pierced into you.

He sits up, frames your jaw in both of his calloused hands, and then lewdly licks one cheek and then the other, lapping at your tears. It’s not tender. He’s playing with his prey.

Steven's hands move to your shoulders, gripping them firmly. With a sudden, forceful movement, he flips you onto your stomach. You gasp at the abrupt change, your face pressed into the furs on the bed. His large hands grasp your hips, pulling them upwards as he pushes your upper body down, positioning you on your hands and knees before him.

"Spread your legs wider and present yourself to me," he commands, his voice husky with desire.

Trembling, you obey, pushing your knees out further, lowering your chest to the bed, and raising your hips higher. You feel completely exposed, a new kind of vulnerable in this position, and your cheeks burn with shame. The cool air of the room caresses your most intimate places, making you shiver.

Steven's large hands grip your hips, kneading the flesh of your buttocks, spreading them apart.

"Such a pretty sight," he murmurs.

His thumbs dig into the soft flesh of your buttocks as he spreads you open further. You tense, expecting the brutal intrusion of his manhood, but instead, you feel his beard brush against your most intimate flesh as he presses his mouth to your core. His tongue, hot and wet, slides up the cut of you, and you cry out in surprise. You had been told your husband would couple his manhood with your maidenhood. You had heard the lewd rumors of men using a woman’s mouth for his cock.

No one had ever whispered even a word that man might put his own lips to your sex, and it’s an onslaught of pleasure you were in no way prepared to experience. The moan you let out is obscene and unrestrained, and you graps helplessly at the blankets and furs beneath you.

Steven's tongue explores your folds with wicked precision, alternating between broad strokes and focused flicks against your most sensitive areas. Your body trembles uncontrollably, overwhelmed by the intense sensations. You try to stifle your moans, burying your face in the furs, but Steven's hand snakes up to grip your hair, yanking your head back.

"Let me hear you," he growls against your flesh. "I want to hear every sound you make."

His mouth returns to your core, his tongue delving deeper, tasting every inch of you. His beard scratches against your sensitive skin, adding another layer of sensation to the overwhelming pleasure. Your hips buck involuntarily, pressing back against his face as he continues his relentless assault. You feel his lips close around your sensitive bud, sucking hard, and a cry tears from your throat.

"That's it," Steven murmurs, his voice vibrating against your flesh. "Let go, little bride. Show me how well you enjoy being ruined by your new king.”

His words send a shiver through you, a mix of shame and unwanted arousal. Steven's tongue continues its relentless assault on your cunt, building a tension in your core that threatens to overwhelm you. Your body trembles, teetering on the edge of release.

His hands grip your hips tightly, holding you in place as you writhe against him. The tension within you builds to an unbearable level, and with a final, targeted flick of his tongue, you shatter.

A cry tears from your throat as the waves of ecstasy wash over you. He laps up your juices eagerly, groaning in satisfaction, before he pulls away.

You whimper at the loss, and he chuckles. “Worry not, there is yet more pleasure I will force upon you this night,” he promises.

Before you can catch your breath, you feel the blunt head of his manhood pressing against your entrance. Steven guides the tip of his cock up and down your slit, over your oversensitive bundle of nerves, and you shiver. But it is soon evident he is in no hurry at this next pursuit.

Steven continues to tease you with the head of his cock, running it along your sensitive folds. Up and down, up and down. Slow strokes, sometimes bumping against your clit, sometimes ignoring it, unpredictable in the pattern so you don’t know when the surge will come. Your body trembles, overstimulated and overwhelmed. Despite your mind's protests, your hips shift back, seeking more contact, even though you're still sore from his earlier intrusion.

His fingers dip into your core, pulling from the wetness dripping out of you, and then he swipes them over your tight rosebud, and you gasp. You know immediately what he intends to do next, though you could never have imagined such a thing, and you can not process any sort of reaction against it. Indeed, he presses the tip of one of his fingers against the tight muscle, then insistently pushes through, and your heart pounds in your chest with fear. The foreign feeling is shocking.

Shocking because it should not feel as good as it does.

You squeeze your eyes shut, tears of shame and frustration leaking from the corners.

He moves his finger in and out in only a very small motion - not fucking you with the finger, but pressing pleasure there in small, torturous amounts. He resumes the rutting of his cock against your folds, and you begin to openly weep, feeling wanton, confused, but moans accompany your sobs that you cannot hide from him.

He leans over you, his broad chest pressing against your back. His breath is hot against your ear as he speaks. "Eager for more, are we?" Steven chuckles darkly. "Beg for it, little bride. Beg for your king's cock."

You hesitate, torn between your body's desperate need for release and the last shreds of your dignity. Steven's free hand moves to circle around the front of your throat, possessive, threatening.

"Beg," he snarls.

The words stick in your throat, and Steven removes his finger from your tight hole and his hand comes down hard on your ass, the sharp sting making you gasp.

"I said beg," he growls, his voice low and dangerous.

"Please," you whimper, the word barely audible.

Another stinging slap lands on your other cheek. "Louder," Steven demands.

"Please!" you cry out, your voice breaking. "Please, I need... I need you.”

He slaps your ass again. “I want to hear you say it. Tell me exactly what you want."

You swallow hard. But you can’t deny betrayal of your body, aching for his touch, for the release only he can provide. "Please," you whisper, your voice trembling. "Please... fuck me. I need your cock inside me."

A growl of satisfaction rumbles through Steven's chest. "As you wish, little bride."

He shifts and begins thrusting his cock inside your cunt again.

Steven's cock enters you with a single, powerful thrust, filling you completely. The sensation is overwhelming, a mixture of pain and pleasure that leaves you gasping. He sets a relentless pace, each thrust driving deep into your core, your body rocking forward with the force of his movements.

His hands grip your hips tightly, fingers digging into your flesh hard enough to leave bruises. The room fills with the sounds of flesh meeting flesh, your breathless moans, and Steven's grunts of exertion. The musky scent of sweat and sex hangs heavy in the air.

"So tight," Steven growls, his voice strained with pleasure. "So perfect for your king, the perfect tribute."

Your body responds to his words, to his touch, clenching around him involuntarily. The friction of his cock against your walls sends waves of pleasure coursing through you, building a familiar tension in your core. He hits a particularly sensitive spot on the front of your walls that has you writhing in ecstasy, and he presses the head of his cock there over, and over. You're overwhelmed by the sensations, the fullness, the way he plays and experiments with your body, until you spasm, thrown over the edge into another orgasm.

Your body convulses as waves of pleasure crash over you, leaving you weak and trembling. Your limbs feel heavy, your muscles liquid, as if all the strength has been drained from your body. You struggle to stay on your hands and knees, your arms shaking with the effort of supporting your weight.

Steven senses your weakness, feeling the way your body has gone limp beneath him. With a growl of satisfaction, he pushes you down flat against the mattress. The furs are soft against your oversensitive skin, tickling your nipples and sending shivers through your body. You turn your head to the side, gasping for air, feeling utterly spent.

Before your breathing can return to anything close to normal, before you can prepare yourself, Steven’s rough hands are spreading your cheeks, and he rams his cock into your ass. The intrusion rips a tortured scream from your throat.

The pain is sharp and immediate as Steven forces his cock into your tightest opening. Your body instinctively tenses, trying to reject the intrusion, which only intensifies the burning sensation. More tears spring to your eyes as you gasp for breath, though you don’t know how you still have more tears to shed.

"Relax," Steven growls, his voice strained with effort and pleasure. "The more you fight it, the more it will hurt, and I’m not going to stop."

You try to force your body to relax, to accept him, but it's a struggle against your instincts. Steven's hands grip your hips tightly, holding you in place as he continues to move. Each thrust sends shockwaves of pain and an unfamiliar pleasure through your body.

"So tight," he groans, his pace increasing. "You feel incredible."

The friction is intense, unlike anything you've ever felt before. It's not quite pleasure, but it's no longer just pain. It burns, but the fire consumes your whole body. You feel stretched to your limit, filled completely by Steven's massive cock.

His hands roam over your body, rough and possessive, groping at your flesh. You bite your lip, trying to stifle your cries, but it's futile. Each thrust draws a whimper or moan from you, your body betraying your mind's resistance.

Steven's hand snakes around to the front of your body, his fingers finding your sensitive bud. He begins to stroke in time with his thrusts. The dual sensations of his thick cock stretching your ass and his skilled fingers on your clit create a maelstrom of sensation that threatens to overwhelm you completely.

You're only vaguely aware of the sounds escaping your throat - desperate, wanton moans that you scarcely recognize as your own. This may be the first night you lie with a man, but though you are inexperienced, you think it can not be possible to experience any more of the overwhelming pleasure he seems determined to rip from you yet again.

Your body trembles uncontrollably, caught between the pain of the intrusion and the impossible mounting of pleasure. Each thrust sends sparks of electricity coursing through your nerves, building the tension in your core. You've never experienced anything like this before - the intensity, the fullness, the way your body seems to betray you at every turn.

Steven's pace increases, his hips snapping against your ass with bruising force. His fingers match the rhythm, pressing harder, moving faster. You are hurled over another cliff of ecstasy, your breath coming in short, desperate gasps, body jerking futilely beneath his massive form. He pounds into you once, twice, thrice more, and on the fourth thrust, he shouts and stills, cock buried inside you, and groans as he empties his seed in your tightest channel.

Finally spent and satisfied, Steven collapses on top of you, his massive weight pressing you into the furs. You feel utterly crushed beneath him, struggling to draw breath, yet there's an undeniable warmth from his body enveloping yours that sneaks unwanted into your bones. His heart thunders against your back, matching the frantic pace of your own. The room is filled with the sound of your mingled panting as you both quest for normal breath.

The scent of sweat and sex hangs heavy in the air, mingling with the earthier smells of leather and furs. Your body thrums with residual pleasure, every nerve ending still singing from the intensity of your coupling. You feel utterly boneless, all strength drained from your limbs.

Slowly, your breathing begins to even out. You become acutely aware of every point of contact between your bodies - the rough hair on his chest against your back, the way his thighs press against the backs of your legs, his hot breath against your neck, and his lips too close to that tender and intimate space as only a beloved’s should be.

Finally, Steven rolls to the side and off of you, but you are not freed from him as he bands an arm around your waist, resettling you with him. He curls around you, and you resign yourself to being held captive, bound by his thick, corded muscles yet a while longer - possibly until the morning.

Just as you are about to drop off into sleep, he speaks directly into your ear. “I have claimed all of your holes, little bride. You will always know that I had every bit of you first, leaving him nothing.” The words are cruel, wicked, and his voice low and far too intimate.

You take a shaky breath in, and out, and beg for sleep to take you so you do not have to think of how his words haunt you now and will haunt you forever.

In the morning, your body still feels spent beyond its limits, aching, but as you shift and stir, you discover the bed is empty.

Your heart accelerates at this discovery.

Then plummets the next moment as the cruel conqueror speaks breaks the silence. “Get up and get dressed,” he commands from where he’s perched on the windowsill, watching the first light of morning appear.

Your eyes dart around the room, drawn to the scraps of your wedding clothes. “I’ve no clothes to-”

“On the chair over there,” he interrupts and gestures to a pile of clothing and shoes that have been brought in.

You slip out of the bed, trying to ignore thoughts of whether or not he watches you - he has already seen your naked form, so what does it matter?

There is a well-made linen chemise with a fine, blue linen dress to go over it. You hastily slip on the chemise, but as you reach for the dress, you hesitate. The detailing is finer than anything made in your village. This came from him.

“Shall I assist you?” Steven asks, making you jump as he’s silently crossed the room to stand directly behind you.

“No, I can dress myself,” you answer, but it falls on unhearing ears, as he’s already reaching past you for the garment.

He assists in pulling the dress over your head, and his hands roughly tug at the ties of your dress. Then he turns you to face him, and his eyes bore into yours with an intensity that sends shivers down your spine.

"I've decided your husband will truly be left with nothing," he declares harshly. “After last night, I cannot abide him having you as his bride when clearly you should be mine. His father - the magnate - with the rest of the elders have accepted my bargain to take my men, leave your village, and never return on condition that I take you as tribute.”

You cannot speak, the shock of Steven's words rendering you mute. Your mind reels, trying to process the implications of what he's just said. The village elders, including your own father-in-law, have agreed to trade you away like chattel to save themselves. The betrayal cuts deep, leaving you feeling hollow and abandoned, and yet you know it was likely a choice of little difficulty when weighing the safety of the village.

Steven cups your cheek again in that way that pretends a tenderness that is not there, and kisses you roughly. His lips are demanding, forceful, claiming you once more. The taste of him is now too familiar. His beard scratches against your skin, a sharp contrast to the softness of his lips.

His tongue pushes past your lips, exploring your mouth with a possessive fervor. Your body responds traitorously, a warmth blooming in your core despite everything, and you tangle a hand in his long hair.

Steven breaks the kiss, leaving you breathless and conflicted. His eyes roam over your face, taking in every detail as if committing it to memory.

"You are not why I came to these shores, but you are mine now," he says, his voice low and possessive. "My little bride, my tribute, my prize."

His words send a shiver down your spine - fear, anticipation, and something else you can't quite name. You know you should be horrified, should be fighting against this fate with every fiber of your being. But after the night you've shared, after experiencing all-consuming pleasures you never knew existed, a part of you - a part you're ashamed to acknowledge - is drawn to the thought of belonging to this powerful, dangerous man.

Steven's hand moves to grip the back of your neck, holding you in place as he speaks. "We sail with the morning tide and leave within the hour. My men are already loading the ship with supplies - food, weapons, gold. And you, my little bride, are the most valuable cargo of all."

Your breath catches in your throat at his words. The reality of your situation crashes over you anew - you're leaving behind everything you've ever known, everyone you've ever loved. Your family, your friends, the life you were meant to have - all of it gone in the span of a single day and night.

"Please," you whisper, your voice trembling. "Let me say goodbye to my family, to-"

"No," Steven cuts you off, his voice firm. "There will be no goodbyes. We leave now. I am your husband, your family. My lands will be your lands, and you will learn to forget. Perhaps all the sooner as you learn to crave the pleasures only I can give and ultimately grow with my child in your womb. Mine completely.”

so... if any of you are still alive, screech for help. I won't be able to help, because I have perished from writing this, but someone else might be able to assist you.

SEQUEL: Come Down from Battle

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

[traveler-at-heart]

Doctor's In - Part 9

Wanda Maximoff x Doctor!R

Summary: New Year, new... relationship challenges? Sharing a home isn't all fun and games.

A/N: Everyone, please don’t tell me how much you hate where this story is going just because it seems like R will cheat on Wanda. There’s more to the plot and it’s not something I’m doing just randomly, I’m spending time and effort into creating a fic that is a bit more nuanced or at least I hope it is.

Natasha is not a people person.

Which is funny, considering her profession. She’s created a system that allows her to interact with patients as little as possible, and to focus on what she understands best: the human heart.

Not as a metaphor for sentimental stuff, but as a perfect machine.

She’s out of her element now, and considering the stupid drunk that is shouting in the middle of the ER, Natasha thinks it’s better to check if you’re around later.

“Is anybody going to take a look at this?” the man raises his messed up hand, slurring his words. He approaches Natasha, and she busies herself reading a chart. “Are you going to help or not, hot stuff?”

“I don’t work here” she grumbles, deciding that she’ll have to wait for you somewhere else.

“I was hoping you could take care of me. Where are you going? I'm talking to you” he says when she turns to leave, his good hand flying to grab her by the elbow.

Natasha is ready to throw a punch, but she never feels his touch in any part of her body.

“Lay a hand on her and I will strap you to a hospital bed and give you a colonoscopy without anesthesia” you say, surprising him with your strenght. “Now, sir, sit the fuck down and someone will be with you shortly”

“I’ll handle it” Barnes, the new nurse, approaches with his signature frown. He is equally attractive and terrifying, though most of the nurses ignore the latter.

“Thank you” you smile, watching the man become quiet as Barnes grabs him by the shoulder, knowing he won’t be able to say anything stupid to him. “Hi, Nat”

“Hey, stranger” she smiles at you. “I was hoping I’d run into you here”

“Is that why you were wandering the ER? You could just text me” you smile, walking with her to the cafeteria. “My shift ended an hour ago, which is why I wasn’t the one dealing with that asshole”

“Thank you for that, you are such a gentlewoman. I am dissapointed, though. I was hoping you’d stay for our first lesson today”

“Of course I am. I wouldn’t miss it for the world”

Most of the hospital was buzzing with excitement at learning the new surgical technique that had earned Melina Romanoff a Nobel Prize. The exception was Tony, but that was only because he was convinced the Romanoffs had a secret, evil plot to take over. Even Pepper had told me to chill in front of everyone.

You sit at the front, saving a spot for Darcy and follow every word Natasha says. She’s just going over some of the theory and the process of how the research came to be, which is still very interesting to you. Medical research required patience and focus that you did not have, so you had turned your professional development to trauma, as well as search and rescue training.

“We’ll meet on Wednesday to start the first exercises” she finishes the presentation, and winks at you discreetly.

You smile, leaving the conference room, Darcy right behind you.

“What was that?”

“What? Were you expecting exercises from the get go?”

“I meant the wink. Why was she winking at you?” Darcy insists and you shrug your shoulders.

“I don’t know. Friends wink at each other. I wink at you!”

“If you winked at me, I’d think you’re having a stroke” Darcy insists, and you have to roll your eyes. “It was flirty”

“Natasha knows about my relationship, we are just friends” you say, eager to finish the conversation.

“I just think there’s something fishy about this”

“You too? Stark got to you, Lewis” you mock, nudging her shoulder. “Come on, it’s all fine. I gotta get home, though, I forgot to tell Wanda I was staying longer”

“I hope she kicks your ass for that!” Darcy says as you run out of the hospital.

“Yeah, yeah”

As you drive home, you stop by the shopping street to get Wanda some flowers. You don’t think she’ll be too upset about you being late, but it never hurts to be safe.

Still, as you park in the driveway, you take a couple of minutes inside your car, looking at your old home in the rearview mirror.

Truth be told… you’re stalling. Though you love everyone inside the Maximoff house very much, you’ve had so much work these past two weeks, and it’s always a bit exhausting to get home and find the kids running around or Pietro complaining about something.

As someone who went from living alone to sharing a house with four other people full time, it was definitely overwhelming to say the least.

You take a last, deep breath and step inside the house, Pietro watching a show while the twins play in the backyard.

“You’re late” he comments.

“Work stuff” is all you say, not feeling in the mood to justify your tardiness to someone who isn’t Wanda.

But, as you enter the kitchen and your eyes meet hers, you can tell she’s also a little upset.

“Sorry, work ran long” you apologize, offering the flowers. She tries to smile and you put them down on the counter. “I really am sorry, Wands”

“No, it’s ok. I’m just behind with the book and the kids were a little difficult today… I could have used your help, that’s all”

I could have used some rest, you want to say, but that won’t help. It’s not forever, you keep thinking. Pietro will get better and move out, and things will be less crowded.

“I’ll be here all day tomorrow, I can take care of anything you need” you promise, saying goodbye to the prospect of a good nap. To keep yourself busy, you take out stuff to make a sandwich, sighing when you notice you’re out of cheese. “Like going to the grocery store, I guess”

Pietro keeps eating everything and by the time you’re home, there’s barely any food left.

“And you’re coming to the twins game on Wednesday, right?”

“Oh” you pause, scratching your neck. “I have to go to the hospital”

“Again? It seems like you’re there all week” Wanda protests.

“Well, yeah, we’re understaffed, between people being sick and others taking time off. I have to go and head the department, it’s my job, Wanda” you say, suddenly not hungry.

Nothing’s enough, you’re not good enough.

“I just… miss you. That’s all” Wanda says, and you sigh, feeling like an asshole.

“I know. I’m sorry. It’s always crazy during January, plus we’re doing a new training with a doctor from Boston. Things will settle in a couple of weeks, I promise”

“Ok” she nods, smiling as you approach her, kissing her temple. “But you’ll have to make it up to me”

“I have a few ideas for that, Miss Maximoff” you smile, pulling her against you and kissing her temple. “And none of them include clothes”

“Good” she laughs, standing on her toes to kiss you.

—

You wanted to have a good day, you really did. Wanda needed some work done on her new study so you dropped off the kids and drove to the hardware store, trusting Pietro could be fine on his own for a while.

What really ruined the mood happened on the way back home.

While turning on a busy street, your mother calls and instead of pressing the ignore button, you answer.

“Fuck” you mutter and it’s too late to hang up. “Hey, mom”

Wanda perks up at that, curious about your mother. She has never even heard her voice, let alone watch you have a conversation on the phone with her. She can tell your posture stiffens.

“Hello, Y/N. I missed your call for the holidays”

“Had lots of work” you lie.

“Oh, well. Hope you liked your birthday present” the woman says in a kinder tone and you almost want to laugh.

“Yeah, thanks. Really appreciate it”

“So, I don’t have a lot of time, wanted to let you know we’re flying there next week but we’re just gonna stay for three days. I don’t think we’ll have the time to meet you. Plus, it’s just us family, you know”

“Right” you try to sound disappointed, but are actually tempted to stop the car and dance around the street. “Some other time”

“Just make sure you’re available in case we need anything. It’s the least you can do”

“Of course” you agree, looking out of the corner of your eye at the confused expression on Wanda’s face. “Have fun, say hi to everyone for me”

“Ok, you take care now”

The minute she hangs up, you let out a huge sigh of relief.

“What was that?” Wanda says, frowning.

“Which part, love?”

“Everything! Ok, first of all, the birthday present. What did she get you? I didn’t see anything delivered”

“Wanda, she doesn’t even know where I live. What happened was, someone walked by and she pretended to be nice. She’s always done it” you explain, feeling irritated. All you want is to be happy that you won’t see her, but Wanda is pushing the subject.

“And what about them coming? And not making the time to see you? Just us family? You’re her daughter!”

“Wanda, please, drop it” you plead, parking outside your home and stepping out of the car.

“Why is she like this? Why don’t you call her out on it? And I’m sorry, I just can’t understand someone being so horrible to their own child”

“Wanda!” you snap, slapping the trunk of the car. “I know, she’s horrible. I don’t care if she lies about getting me a birthday present and I don’t care enough about her to call her out for being mommy dearest. I am just so damn happy that I don’t have to be around her anymore, can we please focus on that?”

“I am just trying to understand. You never tell me anything about her” Wanda protests and you can’t believe she’s still talking about this.

“Everything there is to know, you already know, Wanda. What else would you like to learn? That sometimes I went to bed without having dinner because she thought I was getting fat? Or that when I got a summer job and was out too late she only let me sleep on the porch? What other fucking twisted things would you like to learn about that awful woman?”

“I…”

“If I say it’s complicated or I don’t want to talk about it, maybe just listen once. Here” you toss the car keys her way, not caring if she catches them or not. “I’m going for a walk”

You’d do more than walk if you were wearing different shoes and it wasn’t so damn cold. Still, you don’t make it very far, running into a black and white bunny in the middle of the street. None of your neighbors have pet rabbits, not that you can recall.

“Where did you come from?” you say, hugging the little thing and feeling relaxed as it moves its nose and settles in your arms.

“Señor Scratchy!” Agatha yells from her porch, and you turn around.

“I take it he’s yours?”

“Yes, Rio gave him to me. Señor Scratchy, what are you doing outside?” the woman says with a soft voice, taking him back. “I don’t know how he got out”

“Maybe your fence? Let’s take a look” you walk around to her backyard, pointing at an old part of her wooden fence. “Aha!”

“Oh, great. It will take forever to find someone to fix it” she grumbles. “He’ll have to stay inside for the time being”

“I can fix it. It will only take an hour or so” you say, eager to stay out of the house for a bit longer.

“Well, aren’t you a sweetheart?” Agatha squeezes your cheek and then slaps it gently. “Just remember, I’m already taken, hot stuff”

“I’m just fixing your fence, Miss Harkness” you wink. “I’ll be back with the stuff we need”

Wanda seems to be in her study when you go back home. The fact that you feel relieved instead of sad for making her hide does make you a little guilty.

Truth is, you’ve never lived with anyone you had a relationship with, and neither did she. Maybe you’re both expecting things to be perfect, and it’s just not realistic. Disagreements are bound to happen when you share a home.

Right?

As you work on Agatha’s fence, you keep thinking about a way to make things work for everyone, because you’ve had a couple of fights with Wanda in the span of two days and you really don’t want to make it a habit.

“Did that fence do something to you?” Agatha interrupts you, handing over a glass of water.

“Huh?” you look up at her, taking it and nodding your thanks.

“You're nailing that wood a little too hard, hot stuff” she says, dragging a garden chair and sitting next to you. “Spill”

Saying it’s nothing won’t stop her from asking, so you keep working and tell her everything that has been going on. How the house feels too crowded sometimes, and work is kicking your ass. It takes a minute, but you admit that Wanda really upset you, questioning why you didn’t stand up to your mother.

“I don’t know, I guess it’s something I’ve always wondered myself. Why didn’t I say something instead of being weak. It struck a nerve when Wanda said it out loud”

“Did she call you weak?” Agatha says, frowning.

“No, that’s me being dramatic” you chuckle.

“Look, it’s what I told you the other day. Not everyone understands it, because most people have a semi functional relationship with their parents. And from the sound of it, Wanda’s were straight out of a sitcom”

“I guess”

“She doesn’t have to understand it. She just has to respect your boundaries” Agatha says and you nod, still thinking about everything. “Have you ever thought about going no contact with your mother?”

“Is that what you did?”

“Oh, honey, my mother’s dead. So unless I pull out a Ouija board, we’re no contact already” she cackles, which makes you laugh.

“I don’t know. If she needs something, I guess I would try to help her. If she was a bad mother, that’s on her. But I won’t be a bad daughter”

“You’re too good” Agatha pats your back, and you smile at her.

“Alright, well, your fence is fixed. Can we call it even with the therapy session you just gave me?” you stand up, making sure everything’s in its place.

“Nu-uh, you owe me” Agatha jokes, taking the bunny out to the backyard. “You’ll be fine. Tú puedes”

“Duolingo?”

“Rio’s been teaching me Spanish. The other stuff I can’t say it to you because it’s dirty and for her ears only” the brunette winks, which makes you blush. “Bye, Y/N”

“Bye, Agatha” you roll your eyes at her antics, feeling better as you walk back home.

You figure it’s better to start working on what Wanda needs, so you carry the stuff upstairs and knock before entering the guest room turned into a study.

“Hey” you say, as Wanda looks out the window instead of working.

“Hi”

“I’ll fix the lights and then adjust your desk, or do you need to work now?” you ask, unsure if she’s also upset at you.

“No, that’s fine. It’s not even important, you should rest, work has been crazy for you” she finally turns, and you can tell she’s trying hard not to cry.

“Hey… come here” you step closer, pulling her into a hug. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m really sorry for pushing the subject. I can’t imagine someone being so awful to you, and I made you… I should have kept it to myself”

“It’s… yeah. It wasn’t nice and I really don’t like to look back at everything that happened. But I know you didn’t mean any harm, ok? I love you, baby” you kiss her temple, feeling her relax in your arms. “Why don’t you go check on your brother? He’s been too quiet, which can only mean he’s getting into some sort of trouble”

“Or buying more stuff from Amazon. We barely fit here” Wanda grumbles and you laugh, kissing her. “I’m sorry”

“I know. You’ll make it up to me in bed” you joke, which makes her laugh.

“Maybe now that he’s busy…”

In that precise moment, her brother decides to call for Wanda.

“Go” you kiss Wanda again, wishing you had more time just with her.

—

Natasha’s not excited about the day ahead, the only silver lining being that she gets to see you. There’s nothing wrong with that, of course. She’s flirting and constantly eyeing you, but nothing’s gonna happen.

Not on a lack of desire on her part. It’s pretty obvious you’re not the type of person who cheats. Pretty ironic, she finally meets a decent woman and you’re already taken.

What does that girlfriend of yours have that she doesn’t? Aside from two kids that adore you. Is the whole housewife thing really that appealing to someone like you?

As she enters the room for the next lesson, Natasha notices you’re sitting a few rows behind. That’s a little disappointing. Still, your eyes follow her every move and she feels a little surge of pride at that.

If only you were single, Natasha might get you to roleplay that teacher-student fantasy she’s had.

Still, as she finishes her explanation, you walk up to her, smiling.

“That was brilliant, Natasha” a brunette doctor walks behind you, and you reach out to stop her. “Hey, come meet Doctor Romanoff, Darcy”

“Pleased to meet you. We’re loving the lessons” she says, not wanting to make small talk. “Y/N, come on. I’m starving”

“Oh, I was thinking we could go out for a bite if you’d like?” you turn to Natasha, smiling.

“I’ve got surgery in half an hour” Darcy says, glaring at you.

“Nat?” you turn to the woman, smiling. “Bishop can take care of the ER for me”

“Yeah, I’d love to” Natasha says, kicking herself over how fast she agrees to doing anything you ask.

“Awesome, I know this great place” you begin saying, but she gets a phone call. Natasha looks at you apologetically, but you smile, while Darcy is pulling at your sleeve and giving her a strange look.

“I’ll only take a moment” Natasha promises.

“Yeah, that’s fine”

“A word, Y/N?” Darcy finally gets your attention back and you frown.

Natasha doesn’t care much about the new doctor, unless she’s also fighting for your attention. She finds an empty room to take the call, shutting the door behind her.

“What is it, mother?”

“How’s the second lesson?”

“Fine. Do you keep a timer on your desk?”

“I just like to know if the study plan I designed is working, Natalia. That way, when we move to the next one, it can be more efficient until we manage a global, scalable solution”

“We? I’m only doing this here and then I’m going back to my research, you agreed” Natasha reminds her, blood boiling.

“This is your legacy too”

“Then how come I wasn’t up there getting the Nobel with you?”

“Natalia, those are insignificant things compared to what we can acheive” Melina scoffs.

“I’m not going to spend another month in a different hospital just because you’re too paranoid about someone stealing your research”

“Fine, then get me a new Head of Trauma for Boston and we’ll consider it even” Melina says. “You know Yelena wants to focus on that, she needs someone who can teach her”

“There are tons of applicants. Choose one from the pile in your desk, Mother” Natasha sighs, knowing where this is going.

“What about that doctor you told me about? You sounded so enamoured last time”

“She wouldn’t move to another city, her girlfriend’s here” Natasha says.

“Girlfriends aren’t wives. Well, even spouses can get divorced. Maybe she just needs to hear the right offer” Melina insists.

“Mother…”

“You’re not resuming your research until you find a new Head of Trauma. That’s final, Natalia” the woman loses her cool, hanging up on her daughter.

Natasha feels so stupid, of course this would happen. Melina never cared about anything other than herself and her accomplishments.

“Fuck” the woman says, kicking one of the chairs. You walk inside that precise moment, jumping at the outburst.

“You ok?” you say, locking the door.

“Yeah. It’s nothing”

You let out a sigh, sitting next to her in the bed of the on call room.

“We can skip lunch if you’re not hungry”

“It’s not that. I mean, I’m not hungry anymore, my mother just pissed me off” Natasha shakes her head, trying to calm her racing heart.

“You got one of those too, huh?” you chuckle. “I’m sorry, Nat, honestly. It’s the worse feeling in the world. Someone who should support you trying to bring you down, and then no one believing you because there’s this collective denial that mothers can be bad people”

“Yeah, that’s exactly it. To everyone else she’s a genius. To me, she’s the woman who’s always reminding me how ordinary I am compared to her” Natasha fiddles with her hands, not used to being vulnerable. Not with someone who understands her so well.

“You’re not ordinary, Natasha” you say with so much conviction that the redhead looks up, eyes meeting yours. “And if your mother thinks that, I’m sorry to say that she’s not as smart as I thought”

Natasha laughs, blushing a little at the compliment. You nudge her with your elbow, standing up.

“Want some coffee instead? If you’re not hungry anymore” you place your hand in the doorknob, checking if she’s ready to step out.

“Yeah, sure”

As you nod and open the door, Natasha stands up, reaching for your wrist.

“I… thank you. You’re too kind to me” she says in a low voice.

“I guess I know how isolating it can be. If you ever want to talk, I’m here” you squeeze her arm in return, smiling at her.

Natasha is about to say something else, something probably really stupid, when a voice calls behind you.

“Detka, there you are”

“Wanda? Hi, what are you doing here?” you step out of the room now, looking at your girlfriend. Wanda, however, is focused on the very attractive redhead that follows behind you, noticing you were alone seconds ago

“Am I interrupting something?” she says, eyes not leaving Natasha’s figure.

“What? No, this is Nat… eh, doctor Romanoff. She’s the doctor from Boston who is giving us the course” you explain, looking between both women. Natasha is the first one to give up the staring contest, extending her hand to Wanda.

“Nice to meet you. Y/N has told me so much about you and your boys”

“I’m happy to hear that”

Happy that you know she’s taken.

“So, uh… what are you doing here?” you ask, still thrown off by Wanda’s presence. Ever since Pietro was discharged, she has never been back to the hospital. If you recall correctly, she said she had enough of hospitals for a lifetime.

“I need to talk to you for a second. Alone”

“I’ll meet you in a second” you smile as Natasha walks back to the conference room and she nods. When you turn to Wanda she has a strange look in her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“You never told me she was this pretty”

“Who?”

“Natasha”

“I didn’t notice” you mumble, scratching your neck. “And anyways, that’s not why you’re here, is it?”

“Right. I just… I wanted to apologize again for yesterday. And make sure we’re ok. I know these past few weeks have been hard. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had to come over and see you”

“Hey, we’re ok” you promise, pulling her by the waist. “I love you, you love me and we have a pretty nice family, don’t we? Even with stinky Pietro”

“I’m trying to convince him to shower daily” she laughs against your lips. It’s pretty clear that he was clean during his hospital days because he got sponge baths.

“It’s either that or hosing him down in the backyard”

“I’d like to see that” your girlfriend laughs and you take her hand, bringing it to your lips. “I’ll let you get back to work”

“Ok, if I can I’ll leave early” you kiss her cheek, squeezing her waist until you’re hand goes dangerously lower. “And maybe we can have some makeup sex”

“Mmhm you’d like that wouldn’t you” Wanda slaps your shoulder. “Go”

But as you wave goodbye and walk up to meet Natasha, Wanda doesn’t miss the look on the redhead's eyes.

She knows it, because it’s the same way Wanda looks at you. And that’s all it takes for her to decide, she doesn’t like the other woman.

—

It’s not as late as you thought, because when you get home everyone’s finishing dinner.

“She lives” Pietro says when you walk in.

“He bathes” you say, noticing his wet hair. “Did Wanda tell you I was going to hose you down?”

He doesn’t get to reply, because the kids jump in your arms.

“My stinky minions! Did you win the game today?”

“No, you have to come to the next one. You’re our lucky charm” Billy says.

“Pinky promise, I will come to the next one” you nod, moving to kiss Wanda. “Hey, gorgeous”

“Moya lyubov” she says and you smile, always loving that accent. “Come have dinner while the kids shower”

“Can you read us a story when you finish?” Tommy asks.

“Of course. Now go with Mom, I’ll be there as soon as I’m done”

The kids cheer as you get a plate and serve some delicious lasagna. Now you really don’t regret coming home early.

“Alright, I’m calling it a night. I’m exhausted” Pietro says.

“From showering?” you joke, but he fake laughs as he pushes his wheelchair away. “Leave your plate, I’ll clean it up”

“Thanks, sestra”

As you eat, you remember to send a text to Natasha, asking if she wants to have lunch with you tomorrow before she heads back to Boston for the rest of the week.

The kids are ready for bed and you walk upstairs, sitting between their beds and reading Dragon Feathers, which was your father’s favorite bedtime story to tell. Billy and Tommy laugh as you make different voices, the way your dad did when he told you the tale.

As soon as you’re done, they settle in bed, and Wanda’s the one who tucks them in, joining you at the door.

“I missed this” you say against her temple.

“I missed you” she agrees, leaning against your side. “Come to my study, I want to show you the drawings I made for the book”

The new working space was starting to grow on Wanda. Even if it was smaller, she had enough room to fit everything she needed, and her view was much better from the second floor.

You admire the sketches she hands you, looking at every detail and stroke of her pencil.

“Could I see you work one day? I don’t think I’ve ever done that, baby” you say, in awe of her talent.

“I don’t know, I might get too nervous”

“Please?” you pout, hoping that will change her mind. Wanda rolls her eyes and leans forward, standing on the tip of her toes to kiss you. Her movements turn more frantic and she catches you off guard when she pushes you against the small sofa, straddling your lap.

“Tell me more about her”

“About who?” you say, completely lost in the way her shirt strains against her breasts.

“That new doctor”

“Natasha?” you blink, trying to form a coherent thought. “Why?”

“Because. You’re working a lot, and apparently it’s next to a very beautiful woman whose name I hadn’t heard up until I saw you walking out of a room together”

“We were just talking” you mumble, more focused on undoing the buttons on Wanda’s shirt. She takes your wrists and pulls them away, forcing you to look up.

“I hope she knows your girlfriend is incredibly possesive and jealous” she whispers against your lips. “Or I might have to remind you who you belong to”

“I haven’t forgotten” you promise, looking at her lips intently.

“Then show me” Wanda says, her nails digging in your scalp. Whatever you were about to say dies in your lips as she kisses you, biting your lip and making you forget your name. You open your mouth, allowing her to explore it with her tongue and you carry her to the desk, pushing away everything so she can sit on it.

Wasting no time, Wanda holds her hips up so you can pull down her pants and underwear, and you kneel, moaning against her center when you begin to eat her out, desperate for her taste.

It feels like forever since you’ve had the chance to worship her body.

“That’s it” she moans as you bite the inside of her thigh, pleased with the way her legs close around your head. “I’m gonna…”

“Hold it”

“No, please”

“Did I fucking stutter? God, you are so impatient” you say, squeezing her throat as you move up, sliding two fingers inside her wet cunt. “Why can’t you just let me fuck you?”

“Oh, God” she says, getting wetter at your words.

“I think you’re the one who’s forgetting her place, baby” you say, hitting her G spot over and over until she can’t speak.

“Fuck” Wanda sighs, biting your neck as she finally gets her release. You kiss her, muffling her moans until her breathing evens out. “I missed that”

“Mhm” you smile, letting Wanda taste herself in your lips. “Come on. Let’s go to bed”

As you get changed and clean up, your phone pings several times.

“Work?” Wanda asks, but you’re smiling as you type.

“Huh? No, not work” is all you say, getting in bed and kissing Wanda. “Night, baby”

“Goodnight” she says, watching the screen of your phone light up again. You don’t notice because you’re already asleep, exhausted.

Wanda has to resist the urge to look at the text you just got.

You’ve never given her a reason to doubt you.

And yet, as she goes to bed, looking at your sleeping shape, Wanda can’t help but feel, there’s a part of you that’s not being honest.

[mattybsgroupie]

fitting | chris sturniolo

— CONTENTS: handjob (m receiving); mommy kink; milf!reader; virgin!chris; sub!chris

— NOTES: hi my loves! sorry i’ve been a little m.i.a, some stuff happening at home and not really in my best mood BUT i’m here! you give me strenght to keep going and doing what i love. did you guys miss him as much as i did :( chris my beloved!!! inspired by this blurb, thought i’d show how shy chris was before their first time! — btw this fic is part of the milf!au but you can it on its own! — not proofread, i apologize for any mistakes. enjoy ♡

walking around the mall after a busy morning at work, you spotted a familiar figure across the alley. it was quite impossible not to recognize chris — his long hair falling over his big eyes, wearing his shabby jeans and his old converse as he typed frantically on his phone, oblivious to his surroundings.

you approached him slowly, standing in front of chris and expecting that he’d notice you soon. when he raised his head, a smile spread from ear to ear, his blue orbs sparkling. it had been over two weeks since you last saw each other due to stacy staying at her father's place, therefore, chris had no excuses to visit you.

“chris? what are you doing here?” you asked in your usual sweet tone. he scratched the back of his head, as if he was a bit embarrassed about the situation he found himself in. “huh... actually, i was supposed to meet stacy” chris admitted, tucking his cell phone back into his pocket and standing up beside you.

“but she won’t make it” he said. a puzzled frown appeared on your face. it’s true that you couldn’t always keep track of your daughter’s schedule when she wasn't at home, but she wasn’t the type to miss dates or hangouts. 

“cheer practice” he explained. you nodded, realizing that the game season was about to start. it felt so wonderful to see chris again. “well, would you like a ride home? i just have to look for something real quick and then i’m all done”

“sure, c-can i keep you company?” he asked, eager for a positive answer. “absolutely, sweetheart”

you led the way to the store you were going to visit. a lingerie shop. chris gulped when he saw the bright sign, the pink lights contrasting with the black interior and then sighed. he knew you missed him just as much.

“that’s not fair, mama” he mumbled after a while. chris had been following you like a puppy, interlocking his index with two of your fingers, as if he could lose his way at any second. 

“making me so needy” he complained again. you stopped by a red, lace lingerie set and happily brought it to your chest, turning to chris. “what do you think of this one, chris? pretty, right?”

“mhm— really pretty” chris shook his head as he sunk his teeth on his bottom lip. he looked away from you and the way the bra rested perfectly against your chest. “what’s up, baby? are you having a little trouble down there?”

“mama… don’t do this to me” chris whispered. his hands started to get sweaty and he could feel the blood rushing to his cock. he was about to get hard in public just because he thought of you in lingerie, which was ridiculous, since he had seem you naked previosusly.

“i’m not doing anything, sweetie. i’m shopping and you’re keeping me company, isn’t that right? is it my fault that you can’t hold yourself back and got all worked up just because i got some lingerie?” your warm tone sent a shiver down his spine, his chest immediatly inflating with air. “‘m s-sorry i just keep thinking… of you wearing it” chris tried to explain himself as you chuckled, enjoying his embarassement.

“yeah? you wanna see me wearing a nice set for you? which one do you like better?” you asked, handing him three pairs of bras and panties in different colors.

“the red one” chris spoke, still not daring to look at you in the ways. you walked in slow, seductive steps towards him, the sound of your heels taking over the empty store.

“c’mere,  i’ll try it on for you” you continued, undoing the first button of your silk shirt. chris got a peek of your bra, it was the leopard print that drove him insane and made him kiss you for the first time, months ago. “but first we gotta fix this, hm?” you cooed, placing your palm against his boner and applying some pressure to it.

once again, you led the way towards the fitting rooms. chris followed you obediently, holding a bunch of hangers. you gaze scanned the store and with a naughty grin, you opened one of the curtains and quickly went inside, pulling chris by his wrist.

he didn’t even had time to hang your underwear. you pushed him against the mirror, smashing your lips together in a desperate, hungry kiss. a loud groan left his throat as you moved to his neck, gently sucking on his skin. “mommy i missed you so much” chris rolled his eyes, his hands going to your hair.

“i missed you too, my good little boy” you whispered, palming his cock over his jeans. chris squirmed against you, a moan slipping from his lips. you opened a satisfied smile as you pulled away, sitting on the stool next to the mirror.

chris whined in protest, already missing how you hand and your lips felt on him. “got all hard for mama? you poor little thing” he pouted, nodding “c’mon, touch yourself for me” you instructed him.

his eyes widened in surprise — you had never asked him that. he didn’t know how to do jerk himself properly. chris was a virgin and the first time he was actually able to reach an orgasm was with your help. how was he supposed to do it on his own, and in public?

“mhm, unless you wanna go out with that pathetic boner” you teased, crossing your legs. the red heel started to slip from your foot as you finished unbuttoning your shirt, fully displaying your bra. chris whined again, silently pleading.

“mama… i n-need your help” chris spoke under his breath. “can’t cum without you”

“you’ll have to learn how to take care of yourself, chris” you said, pulling chris by his belt. you helped him to undress, freeing his shaft, almost slapping against his own tummy. you wrapped your knuckles around his length, stroking it in slow motions. “do you expect mama to be there every time you get hard? what are you gonna do when i’m not around, hm?”

“nhng— can’t— can’t be without mama” chris whimpered, more to himself than to you. he twitched inside your fist, placing both hands on the mirror to hold his weight, knowing his knees would ultimately give up.

you moved your thumb to his tip, pre-cum leaking from his slit as you circled it. his hips bucked forward as he leaned his head down, trying to hold himself. chris didn’t want to cum too soon, it was humiliating. he wanted to last long for you, he wanted to get used to the feeling your fingers around him, to the sound of your voice whispering praises and calling him a good boy, but no matter how hard chris tried, he pathetically failed.

“cum! mama, cum!” chris whimpered. you tightened your grip around his cock, pumping it faster. “please!”

“cum for me baby” you allowed him. you knew chris would need a long time to get used to your touch. in fact, it was adorable that he couldn’t even last five minutes.

chris threw his head back, moaning as he came on your hand, thick spurt messing your fingers and his jacket. you didn’t move your hand, continuing to gently stroke his wet, sticky cock.

that’s until your phone rang. you reached for your bag, quickly picking it up and seeing the name on the screen. “i think stacy is back home” you told chris, whose dick immediately became soft at the mention of your daughter’s name. “would you like to join us for dinner?”

— TAGLIST ♡⊹𑄽୧ @thepubeburgler @submattenthusiast @pearlzier @mattsfavbitchhh @bugeyedgrl @sturncakez @riowritesitall @mattsturnswife @sturnsmia @sturnthepot @mattscoquette @conspiracy-ash @ilovemattsturn @lizzymacdonald06 @blahbel668 @fratbrochrisgf @sturnobsessedwh0re @cayleeuhithinknott @sturniolo04 @1c3b4th @mattsfavbigtitties @bellassturniolo @sturnsxplr-25 @ivammbb @shadowthesim @slutformatthewsturniolo @stefansring @teeheeomg @dystfopia @riasturns @faiyaz555 @sturnslutz @cvnntagious @alesturniolos @emely9274

chris masterlist | milf au masterlist

[kaisercest]

peek !!

content warning: Fem!Reader. Hiori being sadistic (canon) and reader. Mentions bruises, small cuts, and wounds. Shibari is also mentioned. Isagi taking a peek at Hiori’s phone without consent. Nonconsensual looking at intimate photos of Hiori’s gf. Impact play was mentioned as also tools like paddles. Discussions about safeword and aftercare. The reader is implied to be into really girly stuff like lacey outfits, etc. IDK man…. I just went crazy after seeing Hiori’s fetish 'cause that shit is wild. Didn’t expect this to be 1k words LOL I got carried away.

Isagi didn’t mean to take a peek at Hiori’s phone but he can’t help it since his teammate doesn’t always leave his phone open and this seems to be a perfect chance for him to get to know himself better. He guesses that he will find many games on his phone which is proven true when he swipes through his phone screen and sees many games lined up on the screen; he sees that all his guesses are right but not when he accidentally clicks Hiori’s gallery. 

What he didn’t expect was to be greeted by multiple albums, one of them labeled as “My Girl ⋆. 𐙚 ˚”, the latest picture is a girl with her pair of bruised legs bent to her chest and he can see the lacey pink socks adorning the ankles of the said girl. Is this his girlfriend? What kind of pictures are these? He saw that there were multiple pictures of the girl doing different poses showing off her injuries such as bruises, small cuts, and red spots adorning her body which Isagi figured as hickeys. 

Isagi’s still confused about why Hiori has a whole collection of a girl showing off her injuries in such….. a peculiar and sensual way—there’s something intimate with how she looks in every picture. He sees the bruises on her legs showing different shades ranging from blue, black, purple, and red—Hiori’s fetish….? Are girls that are hurt? What? Thoughts are forming in his head on why his friend finds that arousing. How are pictures of a girl showing her injured self hot? Is it cute? What’s the reason behind these pictures? He continued to scroll through the album and he found photos of the girl naked showing the rope marks on her body—shibari…. Alongside the pictures of her posing with her neck adorned with multiple hickeys and a bite mark on the far left side of her collarbone. Isagi felt his shorts tighten and before he could figure out his mind Hiori snatched his phone away from his hands. “Hiori! I didn’t mean t—” Isagi blurts but before he could defend himself Hiori already cut him off. “It’s okay, Isagi-kun. I know you didn’t mean it.” Hiori smiled at him and Isagi couldn’t help but feel nervous even though it was the usual smile Hiori would give him when they were talking casually. He felt something off. “

“So… Uhm.. Is that… your girlfriend?” he asks. “Yeah, ain’t she pretty?” Hiori replied. Isagi gulped when he was asked the question. What was he supposed to reply? Would he get mad if he told him ‘yes’? Would it be hypocritical of him to say ‘no’ even if he felt himself getting hard looking over the pictures? Fuck it. 

“Yeah��. Yes, your girlfriend’s really pretty. But…. why?” Isagi replied, hesitant to ask about the contents of the album.

“Why, what?” Hiori asks, confused about what Isagi meant.

“The album. Why is she always injured? Why do you have an album of her bruises… wounds… everything that shows that she’s hurt?” 

“Ah… it’s just…. hot.” Hiori replied with a smirk.

What….? He never thought that the casual peeking over Hiori’s phone would lead to a situation like this. What is he even supposed to reply with that fucking answer? Isagi swore that he didn’t expect Hiori to have a sadistic side to him as he just casually admitted that he finds injured girls hot and that he has a whole-ass album of his girlfriend posing and showing her bruises and shit. 

“She’s also into it. She does it for me since she knows I like it. She would sometimes bump into stuff so that she could have bruises but most of the time…. She just gets them since she’s kinda clumsy. It’s cute. Sometimes she asks me to do it.” Hiori explained as he saw how Isagi was confused over the whole arrangement that he and his girlfriend had.

“Ask you to do what?” He knew he shouldn’t have asked as he felt scared of what Hiori’s about to say on his question. He saw him smirk and felt like he was about to hear the most freakiest shit ever. And he knows that he’s not wrong.

“Ask me to hurt her. She likes it the most when I do it to her. She has sensitive skin so she bruises easily. I usually just slap her with my bare hands or use a paddle or the end of the brush to give marks to her. She gets marks easily, that's why I love her. She’s like a doll for me to use.” Hiori said with a slight smile, remembering the times when he gave her girlfriend marks to take a picture and store it in his album. 

Fuck. Isagi felt himself harden through his shorts. He’s sure that Hiori knows about it and is thankful that he still didn’t point out the fact that Isagi’s hard over the fact that he’s explaining his sadistic escapades with his girlfriend. 

“I know you’re confused and probably scared but of course, she gives me her consent every time. I stop if she says her safeword and I take care of her marks afterwards. It’s all consensual, Isagi-kun. I won’t do anything that would make her uncomfortable, she’s my girlfriend after all. It’s all right for us both ways, we both want it.” He adds to comfort Isagi who’s about to explode from all of the information that he’s given from Hiori.

“I know. It’s just—” Isagi starts.

“Just what? Don’t act like you didn’t get hard looking at my girlfriend’s pictures on the album. You’re probably gonna get off this later.” 

“Yeah— Fuck, yeah. I’m sorry.” he apologizes as he feels guilty feeling like this over his friend’s sexual life and girlfriend.

“It’s okay. If you want…… I’ll show you her bruises in real life. You might even get to touch her, Isagi.” Hiori replied with a smirk towards the end of his statement and walked away from the locker room where they were staying.

Just like that Isagi felt that his head had gone to heaven after hearing what Hiori said. It’s safe to say that Hiori had a good time talking to Isagi about his fetish and lover and felt euphoric texting his girlfriend during the night as they talked about what happened in the locker room. Hiori felt excited about going home and meeting her so that they could finally discuss adding lots of pictures to his album. 

bro i fucking #hate hiori (i love his ass, he's so me....)

forget the fact that idk how to write dialogues.... lmfao! im trying ok...

kindly REBLOG guys cuz i need that motivation fr... i need to write more

[cartersblogabtnothing]

i’m sure we’ve all read at least one or two “peter parker in gotham” fanfics. they’re a personal favorite, especially when they’re done well. and i do get why peter is always in gotham, but…

…why not put one of the batkids in peter’s new york? i think it’d be interesting.

my personal favorite is tim drake, but i do think any of the batkids would be absolute comedic gold. here’s why:

1)

dick would’ve 100% “fallen” into some portal during a fight and ended up in new york. at first he thought it was just that, the portal teleported him into new york. whatever. that’s like a regular tuesday for him.

but then he saw some news program (“The Daily Bugle”) talking about some… Spider-man guy that dick’s never seen! never heard of! who the fuck was this guy and where is dick!?

he momentarily freaks the fuck out before giving himself a mission; find out where the fuck he is and then get back home. easy enough. he’s been stranded before. it should be easy for him to get back home.

at least he thinks so, until he bumps into the aforementioned Spider-man guy, who is surprisingly friendly despite the strange way they move. guess the spider thing was fr.

they bond over acrobatics while peter is attempting to figure out how to build a teleporter (he figures it out quicker than expected and spends far too much time styling it)

2)

jason was on a mission with the outlaws, and one thing led to another and now he and the rest of his team had been teleported to different locations.

he had assumed that bullshit ray gun was some dollar general version of the big stuff until he walks head first into a humongous spiderweb that sticks to his helmet.

jason fucking hates spiders.

he freaks out (duh) and yanks his helmet off and stumbles away, staring at the way it just… hangs there… and suddenly he knew for a fact he wasn’t supposed to be there.

he looks around for a while after that, helmet-less and confused as all fuck. he thinks distantly that maybe he could just restart here. no joker, no batman, no nightwing, no responsibilities. he could make it work.

on his walk, he comes across a mugging. he attempts to get in there, of course, but he’s completely outgunned by some soft-looking fuck in red spandex.

red spandex! what the fuck!

the red-spandex person cleans the mugging up swiftly, and then they turn around to see jason there. they freeze, their mask scrunching up.

jason tries to shoot at them, but his hands get webbed to the wall before he could even reach into his pants.

he’s mildly impressed.

3)

tim is completely whelmed when he just… disappears on his walk back to the manor after school. there’s no portal, no laser beam, no spell… he just… trips once and then falls through the sidewalk. it was so fucking weird.

he’s caught off guard as he’s spit back up from the other side, coughing and heaving breath after breath into his lungs as he takes in his surroundings. he’s in some bad smelling alleyway, and he could feel at least three other people near him.

he’s in a loud, busy city with tall buildings and aggressive crowds. it’s too bright to be Gotham and too gloomy to be Metropolis.

where is he?

he stands shakily, brushing himself off before looking around again. more focused this time, though. he focuses on his location.

he turns to see a homeless man staring, and before he could even open his mouth, the man screams before hissing at him and running the opposite way.

what the fuck?

he tosses his hands in the air before getting cut off by a snort, and he whips around to see a lean, thin, soft-looking person in red and blue spandex. their face is covered by a mask, but even then their mask is so animated that tim feels immediately impressed.

“you scared jimmy.” the person says simply, tilting their head.

“you scared me.” tim responds, tilting his head slightly to mirror them. they laugh, their white eyes narrowing.

“you’re not from around here,” the person says slowly, leaning forward slightly. “let me guess… jersey?”

“huh, how’d you know?” tim snorts, shaking his head.

“accent.” the person shrugs.

the two bond quickly, over everything and nothing at the same time; and they simultaneously figure out that tim is in an alternate dimension and they work together to figure out how to get him home.

by the time tim returns to gotham, he’s picked up more of peter’s spider-like attributes than he’d ever like to admit.

4)

damian doesn’t want to admit that he went head first into a villain’s trap, but… he did.

in his defense, his father did nothing to stop him from doing it. truly, it’s his father’s fault. not his.

he blinks awake to find himself in a puddle, and theres cold rainwater falling onto him and soaking into his suit. it’s uncomfortable, cold, and he feels like curling into a ball and hiding.

but he can’t. he can tell he isn’t in gotham. what if he was somewhere unsafe? he needed to stay vigilant and aware.

he sits up, and immediately feels eyes on him. he looks around, paranoid and on guard.

before he can really understand what’s happening, he sees a person dressed in red spandex hop off what looks like a human sized spider web, landing on their feet with perfect, practiced elegance.

“you’re too young to be dressed like that,” the person begins as they walk closer. “too young to be what you are.”

damian scoffs and stands slowly, hiding a wince as he leans on his left foot. something’s sprained.

“hardly.” damian shakes his head, and the person tilts theirs in response.

“i had a feeling, but i had hoped i was wrong.” the person says softly before walking closer.

the last thing damian remembers before waking up in a warm bed was a warm hand grabbing his arm gently.

the person in red spandex reveals themselves, and they talk. for a while. damian ends up really liking them, especially after they tell damian all about the spider that bit them.

he almost doesn’t want to leave.

5)

while shadow traveling (like in pjo?), duke goes a little too far. he knows he should’ve gone back, but he’s never gone this far and he was so curious it ached.

so he kept going until he walked out the other side, into a very busy alleyway. it smelled of garbage and weed, which didn’t necessarily bother duke but it did tickle his nose slightly.

he decided to figure out where he was first, and then worry about getting back. if he found out a way to get from one timeline to another, then bruce would be extremely grateful to have duke’s abilities on his side.

right?

duke could only hope so.

he walks around for a while, ending up on a very busy sidewalk. he sighs and steps next to a hot dog cart, to which the man stares at him strangely before shrugging and preparing a hot dog. duke goes to refuse, but hears… something in the distance.

he didn’t have time to react before the hot dog cart’s owner held the hot dog out to the street, and a person dressed in red spandex swung past and snatched it up. then, a few seconds later, a five dollar bill was… webbed to the side of the hot dog cart.

duke stared in awe, his eyes wide as he watches the scene. he immediately searches for a library, and immediately begins looking up who this person in red is.

does he forget that he isn’t dressed like a normal civilian half way through? yes. does he fix that? no.

he tracks spider-man down pretty easily, and asks them a million questions all at the same time, to which his mouth gets webbed for. spider-man snorts and answers every single one of his questions.

duke feels so heard it hurts his heart.

he shows spider-man how he did it, bids them farewell after letting spider-man take a picture and several notes of duke’s powers.

duke goes back to gotham feeling light and warm, a smile on his face.

6)

cassandra woke up on a rooftop, feeling sick and tired. she assumed it was some sort of alternate dimensional travel, considering she had been in a space ship beforehand and now she wasn’t.

she uses context clues as well.

the loud bustling streets, the tall but modern buildings, the laughing, the music — none of it is gotham. she knew that very well, but she was still rather confused.

if she wasn’t in space, if she wasn’t in gotham, where was she?

she lets out a silent grunt before slowly sitting, and then standing up. everything hurt. she guessed her spaceship had crashed into some sort of… cosmic ray or portal and she fell out of it. made the most sense.

she looks around slowly, taking in her surroundings like she was taught. she sighs softly when she turns up empty handed, back at square one.

one thing she does notice is the obvious eyes on her. the person isn’t trying to hide, which means she probably in their terf. that isn’t good. not good at all.

cassandra barely turns her head before she feels something pulling at her wrist. looking down, she finds her wrist being tugged by a synthetic spiderweb. it was sticky, silky, and had far too much pull to it.

she twists her arm and pulls on the webs, and then the person comes forward with a heavy step. shiny red and blue spandex fits this person’s body like a glove, and the mask they wear is far too animated to be authentic. must be a function.

the two fight, and as they do cassandra watches the person’s spider-like tendencies. they move with suck fluidity that she feels inferior for the first time in a long time. she’s left in awe, almost.

eventually, she forfeits. she knows when she’s about to lose a fight, when it’s better to stop and give up then die fighting. even if this spider person doesn’t seem hostile, just protective.

“i’m not from here.” she states simply as she’s allowed to stand.

“i know.” the person responds, and cassandra feels more at ease than she did beforehand.

the person - peter takes care of her during her time in new york. gives her a bed, hot food, and even a fake identity for the time being. it works, and eventually she’s back home.

sometimes she tries to mimic peter’s fighting style, but without his abilities, she comes up short.

but the memories are warm and fuzzy and she likes to dream about it.

[littlcdarlin]

dbf!Joel headcanons

warnings: big, though unspecified age gap, 18+ (as always)

note: Uni has been kicking my ass, so I’ve only had time for some headcanons lately. This Joel is very sweet, but I’m open to writing sleazy or dark Joel, too! If you have requests for any headcanons, I will be able to write them even during this stressful time. Full fics will take me a while longer. Enjoy reading, my loves <3 and feel free to add stuff!

He doesn’t really know how to cook well and mostly eats his faves every day but when you stay over more and more he makes an effort to learn and actually finds out he really likes it

Whatever pressure your parents put on you, he relieves it by accepting it rather than trying to fix it for you — you can just exist around him without expectation

He worries the age difference means you don’t have much to talk about, so he watches your favourite show that you mentioned and although it certainly wouldn’t have been his first pick, it lets him unwind. He likes watching something he knows you’ve watched and loved when you’re not around, it makes him feel closer to you

When he first starts looking at you differently he blue balls himself so as not to disrespect you — when he has sex with someone to relieve himself, he accidentally says your name to them

He keeps a polaroid of you in his wallet and cashiers wonder why he smiles at his debit card so much

He finds it hard to stay friends with your dad, because it makes him feel weird about this dynamic with you. He distances himself from your parents after they react badly to the news of your relationship, not because of guilt or cowardice, but because he doesn’t tolerate how they treat you

He thought he would hate the gossip after the two of you go public, but when you do, he finds himself imagining knocking you up just so everyone knows what he does to you. He opts for lots of hickeys until kids might be a possibility, but that doesn’t stop him from pretending you don’t have an IUD when he finishes inside of you

He loves when you wear his clothes, but when you forget your scarf at his place he wears it and enjoys that just as much — it smells like you and he likes the idea of people being able to tell it’s somebody else’s

When he figures out how much you like him talking to you during sex, he starts using the same voice/phrases in public to get you flustered & wet for him

He keeps everything that reminds him of you, like parking tickets etc. He doesn’t do anything with those things, doesn’t put them in a box, so they linger around his house, reminding him of you the way photographs would, except more privately

He starts “putting in an effort” for you when you start dating: styling his hair & wearing clothes he thinks you would prefer, until you tell him you like nothing more than his flannels and band tees and jeans, and although he doesn’t tell you, he’s beyond relieved. He realises you like him for him

When you tell your parents, Joel asks your father to hit him because “he knows he deserves it”. With time he learns he also deserves your kisses and smiles. Those things coexist within him, he thinks both are true

Despite completely supporting you in your pursuit of a degree & career, he likes when you’re on holiday, waiting around for him in his house wearing nothing but a pair of panties he bought for you & one of his hoodies. During those lazy weeks, he fucks you morning, afternoon, and night: before he leaves, when he gets home, and right before you go to sleep

He buys you a ring during the first week of dating because you mentioned how much you like it. He doesn’t give it to you until he knows you feel certain about him — he doesn’t want to freak you out. Still, even before that, he sometimes looks at it in its little black box and envisions it on your finger

During your first couple of “public dates” (neighbourhood barbecue where your parents are present etc.) he refrains from touching you much, although everyone knows about your relationship. You have to take his hand and initiate small touches for him to feel more comfortable

It takes him a short while, but then he loves being able to touch you in front of people: a hand on your lower back, an arm across your shoulder, his fingers lacing through yours, him pulling your back against his front and wrapping his arms around you. People stare sometimes (your Dad breaks one or two wine glasses in his hand), but Joel stops caring when he sees how happy it makes you

He tells you that you can change things about his home, that it should feel like your place, too and asks if you want to go shopping for “candles and stuff”, but you love being in a space that feels completely like him. It’s not how your apartment looks, but it makes you feel at ease, like you’re somehow living inside of him

Before he tells you he loves you, he whispers it in your ear when you’re sleeping, hoping your subconscious will somehow pick up on it. When he does tell you while you’re awake for the first time, it’s during breakfast. You stub your toe, and let out a string of curses you must have picked up on from him, and while he presses ice against your foot, kneeling in front of you, he smiles up and tells you: I love you.

The first time you sleep over at his house after he spent the night in your apartment, two brand new bottles of the shampoo and conditioner you use are in his shower. You thank him and jokingly ask why he didn’t buy your shower gel, too. He kisses you and tells you he likes when you smell like him.

He likes making you come more times than you thought you could — something about moving in and out of you while you tell him you can’t do it again, that you’re done, and then watching you fall apart on his cock anyway, thrills him to the bone. It makes him feel powerful, but part of it is knowing you let him fuck you without expecting an orgasm, that him being inside of you is enough for you to feel good

He doesn’t tell you, but he adds your name to his car insurance, so that you can drive it whenever you want

When you figure it out you give him road head every time the two of you drive somewhere — until he almost crashes the car and he forbids you to tempt him while he’s behind the wheel

He’s so nervous he asks Tommy for help when picking out a birthday gift for you — Tommy goes overboard and the gift turns out to be something completely ridiculous like a pair of huge earrings you would never wear. You tell Joel you don’t need a big fuss to feel loved by him. At night, he gives you a present he’s been wanting to give you for a while: he plays you a song he wrote for you on his guitar. It’s quiet and simple and so perfect you cry for half an hour

He doesn’t sleep well when you’re not around, and loves being close to you at night. If he could, he’d sleep nestled inside of you after a round of lazy midnight sex every night

As much as Tommy annoys him, it makes him happy to see how well you two get along. When you become actual friends with Tommy and hang out with him on your own, he’s more than pleased: the two people he loves the most in the world have become close

He would never ask it of you, but when you tell him you have stopped masturbating because he fucks you so often, it pleases him deeply. He likes being the only source of your pleasure. When you are apart for a while because of work/collage etc., he buys you a toy he can control from his phone

He tells Tommy he thinks he’s going to marry you during the first month of dating, which you find out about only on your wedding day during Tommy’s speech

[alltheeya]

Fluffy bunny || l.hs

genre: established relationship, fluff

word count: 1.8k

notes: endearment (heeseung calling the reader "angel"), enha members appearance

It was a regular day, and Heeseung found himself wandering around a mall after finishing his schedule early. As he strolled past a store window, something caught his eye—a display of plushies. Among the rows of stuffed animals, a particularly cute one stood out: a fluffy bunny with floppy ears and big round eyes.

Without thinking too much, Heeseung walked into the store and bought it. There was no special occasion, no grand reason—he just thought it was something you would like. And maybe, just maybe, he wanted to see your smile.

Later that evening, when they met up after their practices, Heeseung casually pulled the plushie out of his bag and handed it to you. “Here,” he said, his tone almost nonchalant, like it wasn’t a big deal. “I saw this and thought of you.”

You blinked at the plushie in his hands, your eyes widening with excitement. “Oh my gosh!” you squealed, taking it gently like it was the most precious thing in the world. “Hee, it’s so cute!”

You immediately hugged the bunny, your fingers squeezing it as you made tiny squeaky noises of delight. “It’s so soft! Look at its little ears!” you exclaimed, squishing its face with an adorable intensity that made Heeseung blink in surprise.

He couldn’t help but chuckle at your reaction. “You really like it that much?”

“Like it? I love it!” you said, holding the plushie up like it was a prized possession. you gave him the brightest smile, your eyes practically sparkling. “Thank you, Hee. This is the cutest thing ever.”

Heeseung felt a strange warmth in his chest, your reaction more than enough to make his random purchase worth it. He hadn’t expected you to be this happy over a simple plushie, but seeing you so excited made him silently note to himself: Buy her cute stuff more often.

As you continued gushing over the bunny and imagining what kind of “personality” it would have, Heeseung watched you with a soft smile. You looked so carefree and radiant, your  happiness infectious. It was adorable, but Heeseung couldn’t help but feel a little left out.

“So,” he started, raising an eyebrow and smirking slightly, “You like the bunny more than me?”

You gasped dramatically, clutching the plushie tighter to your  chest as if shielding it from Heeseung. “Heeseung! How could you say that?” you teased, feigning offense.

Heeseung smirked, leaning closer with a raised brow. “I’m just asking. You seem pretty attached already,” he said, nodding toward the bunny in your  arms. “Do I need to be jealous?”

You tilted your  head, your  lips curling into a mischievous grin. “Hmm… I don’t know,” you said, pretending to think. “This bunny doesn’t tease me as much as you do. It’s soft, it’s cute, and it’s very well-behaved.”

Heeseung rolled his eyes playfully, crossing his arms. “So, it's a competition now? Should I start being fluffier and cuter for you?”

You  laughed, reaching out to poke his cheek. “You already are, Hee,” you said with a warm smile, pinching his cheek. “But the bunny is a close second.”

Heeseung let out a mock sigh of defeat, shaking his head. “We’ve spent months together and this bunny got 5 minutes and it’s already stealing you from me.”

You  giggled and leaned forward, your  free hand tugging gently on his sleeve. “You know you’re my favorite,” you said softly, your gaze meeting his.

“Even more than the bunny?” he asked, his voice teasing but with a hint of genuine curiosity.

“Definitely,” you assured him with a playful wink. Then, you held up the plushie. “But don’t worry, you both have a special place in my heart.”

Heeseung chuckled, ruffling your hair lightly. “Good to know, Angel. But just so you remember, I’m the one who got you that bunny.”

“And I love you for it,” you replied with a grin, hugging the plushie and giving Heeseung a quick, cheeky side-eye.

Heeseung shook his head in mock exasperation, muttering under his breath, “I’m competing with a stuffed toy now.” But the fond smile tugging at his lips gave away just how much he adored you and your quirky reactions.

Heeseung chuckled, resting his chin on his hand as he watched you. “Don’t you think it needs a name?”

You paused, your eyes narrowing in thought as you gazed at the plushie. “Hmm, you’re right. It does need a name…”

Before you could continue, Heeseung smirked, leaning in slightly. “It can be... I dunno... like our child?”

You blinked, caught off guard. You stared at him for a moment before bursting into laughter, nearly toppling over with the plushie still in your arms. “Our child?” you repeated, your tone incredulous but amused.

Heeseung shrugged nonchalantly, though the teasing glint in his eyes gave him away. “Why not? You’re already treating it like it’s real. Might as well make it official.”

You shook your head, still laughing as you looked down at the bunny. “Okay, Dad. If it’s our kid, then you get to help pick the name.”

“Hmm…” Heeseung tapped his chin dramatically, pretending to think hard. “How about... Fluffball?”

You groaned playfully. “Heeseung, no. That’s so basic!”

“Fine, fine,” he said, holding his hands up in surrender. “You pick, Angel.”

You stared at the bunny for a moment, your lips pursed. “How about… Bunji?”

“Bunji?” he repeated, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah! It’s cute, right? ” you said, tilting your head. “Like a little nickname. Bunji!”

Heeseung chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re something else, you know that? But fine, Bunji it is.”

You grinned triumphantly, holding the bunny up like a trophy. “Welcome to the family, Bunji!”

Heeseung shook his head, watching you with a fond smile. “I still can’t believe I’m competing with a stuffed animal.”

“Competing? Don’t be silly,” you  said, leaning toward him with a teasing smile. “You’re the one who made me fall for Bunji in the first place. So technically, it’s all your fault.”

“Great,” Heeseung muttered, rolling his eyes with mock exasperation. But as you leaned your head against his shoulder, still clutching the bunny, he couldn’t help but think he’d gladly buy you a million more Bunji’s just to see you this happy again.

A few weeks pass by with you cuddling Bunji every night, often sending his picture to Heeseung as the two of you text ‘good night’. One day, you looked at Bunji with sad eyes. You and your friends are going on a trip for two weeks which means Bunji will be alone for a while. But then, an idea popped into your head…

You stood in front of Heeseung with Bunji cradled in your arms, your expression serious despite the soft plushie nestled against your chest. You two were in a quiet corner of the company building.

“It’s your turn to watch over Bunji,” you declared, holding out the bunny plushie toward Heeseung.

He blinked, staring at you and the plushie. “Wait, what?”

“I’m going on a trip, Hee. I won’t be home for two weeks,” you explained, your tone as if this were a matter of utmost importance. “Bunji can’t stay all alone, so it’s your responsibility to take care of him now. You’re the dad.”

Heeseung stared at you, then at Bunji, then back at you. “Angel, you do realize this is a plushie, right?”

Your eyes narrowed, and you placed Bunji into his hands, crossing your arms. “Excuse me, Bunji is part of our family. Don’t act like he’s just a plushie.”

Heeseung couldn’t help but laugh at how serious you were about it. “Okay, okay. I’ll take care of Bunji while you’re gone. But… are there instructions or something? Does he have a bedtime?”

You tilted your head, pretending to think. “Hmm… he doesn’t need a bedtime, but he does need cuddles, especially if you’re watching movies. Oh, and don’t leave him in random places, okay? He doesn’t like being forgotten.”

Heeseung grinned, playing along. “Got it. Cuddles during movies and no abandonment. Anything else?”

You leaned in, your expression softening. “Just… take care of him. It’s silly, I know, but Bunji kind of makes me feel like home. So… if he’s with you, it’s like I’m there, too.”

His teasing demeanor faded, replaced by something gentler. He nodded, holding Bunji a little closer. “Don’t worry, Angel. I’ll take good care of him.”

You  beamed, clearly satisfied. “Good. I expect updates, by the way. Photos, videos—proof that Bunji’s okay.”

Heeseung laughed, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “You’re unbelievable. But fine, you’ll get your updates. Bunji’s in good hands.”

As you left to prepare for your trip, Heeseung glanced down at Bunji in his hands. The bunny’s stitched smile seemed to mock him a little, but he couldn’t help the smile tugging at his own lips.

“Well, Bunji,” he said, placing the plushie on his couch. “Looks like it’s you and me for a while. Let’s make her proud, huh?”

When Heeseung brought Bunji back to the Enhypen dorms, it was safe to say that chaos ensued.

Heeseung strolled into the living room with the bunny plushie tucked under his arm like it was the most normal thing in the world. Jungwon was the first to notice, his sharp eyes narrowing as he pointed dramatically.

“Hyung… what is that?”

Heeseung raised an eyebrow, holding up Bunji for everyone to see. “This is Bunji. Y/n asked me to take care of him while she's on a trip.”

Jay nearly choked on his water. “Wait, you’re babysitting a plushie?!”

“Yes,” Heeseung replied matter-of-factly, placing Bunji gently on the couch like he was tucking in a child. “She said Bunji’s part of the family.”

Jake leaned over, inspecting the plushie like it was some kind of rare artifact. “So… what exactly are you supposed to do with it?”

“Cuddles during movies, no abandonment, regular photo updates,” Heeseung recited like he’d been given a manual.

The room erupted in laughter.

“Hyung, are you seriously going along with this?” Sunoo asked, barely able to contain his giggles.

Heeseung shrugged, smoothing out Bunji’s ears. “Of course I am. It makes Y/n happy.”

The teasing didn’t stop there. Niki grabbed a blanket, wrapping it around Bunji like a swaddle. “Don’t worry, Bunji. Uncle Ni-ki’s got your back if Dad messes up.”

“Uncle Ni-ki?” Jay snorted. “Then what does that make the rest of us?”

“Godparents,” Jake chimed in without missing a beat.

Heeseung rolled his eyes, though the corners of his lips twitched upward. “Laugh all you want, but Bunji’s staying here, and you all better treat him with respect.”

Later that night, Heeseung sent you  a picture of Bunji perched on the couch, surrounded by the members. Ni-ki was holding up a peace sign, Sunghoon looked begrudgingly amused, and Jake had the blanket still wrapped around the plushie. The caption read:

“Bunji’s safe and sound, surrounded by his ‘uncles.’”

You replied almost instantly:

“Aww you’re such a good dad, Hee. 🐰💗”

Despite the initial teasing, the members eventually warmed up to Bunji’s presence, even jokingly assigning him a spot on their couch. And whenever Heeseung caught sight of the little plushie, it reminded him of your beaming smile—and that made all the teasing worth it.

[i-am-a-bad-influence-writes]

P*rn ☆  Chapter 4, Raw, next question

Masterlist Word count: 1.8 k Sylus x Fem!Reader

Summary: You have been following a spicy content creator by the name of Red Crow for some time now. Nothing could’ve prepared you for what would happen when he moves into the apartment next door.

Author's note: Here we go babes! I hope ya'll like it. I am going to be very busy this weekend and part of next week, so I'll leave ya'll with this for the upcoming few days. Lots of love <3

Warning! This story is meant for mature audiences. It contains sex, swear words, porn, smoking, intimate piercings, mentions of drugs, alcohol, and other mature themes. Do not engage if you are under 18.

Mature content under the cut.

∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘ 

It's not like you to forget about watching a Red Crow video, but it totally slipped your mind after Tara started suggesting different single guys to you. Seems like she's known Sylus for a while and isn't stoked about the idea of you liking him. For some reason, that gets you going even more. 

Sure, could be that he is a disturbed individual, but you figure it has more to do with his cold demeanor. It almost sounded like she was talking you out of talking to him again after her offer to give him your number. Almost like she suddenly remembered something. Could it be that she also knows about what he does? If that's the case, she's less innocent that you thought she was. 

Either way, she kept you busy until there was a knock at the door and you realized it was already 2 am. No wonder you had been getting sleepy. 'I'll get it,' you offer, you brain fried once more but this time the sleepiness is to blame. Tara giggles in response. 

You expected Kieran to come knocking so that Tara could drive him home. Instead, Sylus leans over you once more when you open the door, one hand on the top of the doorframe the other in his pocket. He's incredibly close, closer than one normally is when knocking on someone's door. Is he doing this on purpose?  

The smell of whiskey and cigarettes hang around him like a cloud, mixing in with his cologne to create the most intoxicating smell you've ever smelled. His shirt is a little more unbuttoned than it was before and there's a slight pink tint to his cheeks. You figure he's drunk or close to drunk. 

But then he speaks, and he sounds stone cold sober: 'Hey, can you tell Tara Kieran is sleeping over. He is in no state to move.' 

'What happened to “taking it easy”,' Tara shouts from the couch. Sylus stands up a little straighter, removing his hand from the doorframe, and looking over top of me to Tara on the couch. He grins slyly. 

'Nothing we haven't done before.' She hops off the couch and rushes over, looking slightly agitated. 

'Sylus, that can refer anywhere from a gross shot to LSD,' she snaps at him. He leans down over her like he just had with me. Her eyes widen ever so slightly, and it almost looks like her hair is puffing up like an angry cat. Suddenly, you understand why she might've wanted to curb your interest in Sylus but the teasing tone that slips from his lips so easily gets you fucking going. Without really noticing it, you bite your lip for no more than a second while your thighs rub together. 

He notices though. His eyes flicker over to you for just a second and his grin widens ever so slightly. 'No drugs. I quit that stuff. He's just very drunk.' Tara groans. 'You can check if you want.' 

'I will,' she snaps as she pushes past the two of you and quickly disappears into Sylus’ apartment. 

And suddenly, you are harshly reminded what happened the last time you and Sylus were alone. Reminded of that video that you still haven't fully watched. The first few seconds are engraved in your memory. Sylus, completely dressed with his hand slowly rubbing over the tent in his pants, low groans leaving his lips. 

When you look up at him again, you swear he knows exactly what's going on in your mind. There's that sly grin on his lips again. 'Having a fun night?' 

'Oh, fuck you,' you groan, and feel yourself puff up like Tara had as you cross your arms with an annoyed expression on your face. If he knows, you might as well cuss him out for it. He deserves as much, and he seems to like it as a rich laugh slips from his lips. 

He leans even closer, still towering over you with his eyes focused on yours. You feel your cheeks and ears heat up like you've just shoved your head against a space heather. 'You know who I am,' he states. You can almost feel your attitude melt like snow thrown on a fire as you nod.  

'You know what I do,' his voice is gravely, low, seductive. He's enjoying this. You nod again. No more snow, only fire. Fire in your loins and in your fucking ovaries. You are going to burst. He moves in even closer. 

'Use your words, sweetie.' One of his two signature pet names for his audience. Your panties are soaked, your blood is boiling, and your attitude is back. Because, if he keeps this going, you two will be down and dirty right here in your doorway. Ain't no way you're letting Tara see you in that state. 

'Back the fuck up before I jump your bones.' Maybe you should've just said the first part. His confidence wafers for a second before he realizes what you mean. He’s even closer now, his lips next to your ear, voice barely above a whisper. 

'Did you like what you did to me?' 

'Kieran is passed out,' Tara loudly announces before peaking her head around the corner. Before she can, Sylus moves back and crosses his arms, looking like he's bored out of his mind while you are bright red in the face. 'Sylus, help me get him in the car. We have plans tomorrow.' 

'Yes ma’am.' 

∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘ 

3 am. The world outside is quiet, just like Sylus likes it. Kieran was a real pain to get in the car but at least he gets to listen to some records on his own now. Luke had left long before but Kieran always sticks. Sylus can only hope he'll be awake enough to walk into Tara's apartment when they get there. 

Today had been interesting to say the least. He hasn't been this risky in a long time, teasing someone who clearly knows who he is. Could be a very awkward situation in the future if she ever grows over her lust for him, but for now he's fine. This could be a fun little game between the two of them. No one else needs to know, but what if he just films his content after he's seen her. Like how he did today. 

Short conversation, make a video wearing what she saw him in, turn her on so he can listen to her sweet little moans pierce through the thin walls. He does need to keep his schedule though, otherwise it'd be too suspicious. On the other hand, no one would complain about an extra video occasionally. 

The soft thud of the needle bumping off his record pulls Sylus out of his trance. The room is suddenly awfully silent. Then, he hears it. 

The softest of whimpers. 

He turns off the record player and walks into his room curiously. The sound is coming from the air extractor fan in the bathroom, just as it had this afternoon. The shower isn't running and your noises sound farther away, so it's possible that you're in your bedroom with the bathroom door open. 

"Is she doing this on purpose," Sylus questions as he stands in the middle of his bathroom, listening to the sounds you make while his dick starts to strain against his pants. "Would she hear it if I did the same thing?" 

His curiosity quickly gets the better of him. Just for good measure, he quickly sets up his phone to record on top of the toilet reservoir and presses record. Then, he moves to lean against the sink cabinet, his head thrown back as he rubs over the fabric of his pants, just as he had this afternoon. 

He hears a particularly lewd moan and prays to the gods above his phone picked the sound up. His hand moves to his zipper and he undoes himself skillfully and fast. He takes his dick out of his boxers, not bothering to take his pants off. It's hard as a fucking rock and already leaking with just those little sounds. 

"What is this woman doing to me?"  

Lazily, he starts stroking his dick. Soft groans and moans slipping from his lips, suppressed in an attempt to still hear you through the vents. Then the prettiest picture slips into his mind. 

You, laying on your back in his bed, naked. Heels planted on his mattress, legs spread, hands lazily pulling on the hair on the back of his head. That beautiful blush on your cheeks, looking desperate and longing for release while he drives his length into you. The little sounds you make, so much louder when he's this close, so much more beautiful. Your eyes focused on him and only him. 

His hand starts moving faster, chocking his dick ever so slightly while his other hand grips the sink, knuckles turning white. An animalistic sound leaves his throat, a sound he's never made before. Something like a chocked growl. 

God, that image. He'd lean in closer, wrap his arms around your body to pull you closer, his lips exploring the expanse of your neck and shoulders while your nails leave trails on his back. One of his hands would leave your body, move to your little bud of nerves to help you reach ecstasy. 

Another growl leaves his throat, louder this time. He's getting so close after so little time. Is this really all because of you? Because some pretty girl showed interest in him? He's not sure, but the picture in his mind keeps getting more and more realistic. His eyes screw closed, head leaning forward now, his breathing heavy. 

He'd sit down on his heels, pull you onto his lap and hold you close to his chest, as close as humanly possible, while picking up the pace and drilling into you. Your pretty little moans would get louder, would morph into his name so beautifully strewn out on your tongue, barely recognizable to anyone but him. And you'd bite his collarbone. The pain and pleasure of the whole thing tipping him over the edge, his hands bruising your skin, serving you the same mixture to help you fall into the abyss with him. 

Hot ropes of cum lay on the tiles in front of Sylus while he tries to catch his breath. He doesn't hear your voice anymore, so you must be done as well. 

"What the hell just happened?" 

He steadies himself and grabs his phone from the toilet reservoir, stopping the recording. Before he can throw the thing to the side again, he gets a notification on his video from this afternoon. When he opens it, the name and profile picture look awfully familiar. It's you, there's no denying it. His lips pull into a grin when he reads your comment. 

"Raw, next question." 

∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘ 

Previous - Next

∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘ 

Taglist

@carmelves

@d0llfilth

@terriblesoup

@valkyyriia

@fvcknwww

@itsizumiiii

@ludwigsb0nker

@amywright

@frenchmess23yo

∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘ 

[waywardxrhea]

Won't Give Up - Spencer Reid

Heart's Desire (pt 1) / Soon You'll Get Better (pt 2)

pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!BAU!reader

word count: 7,584

Going to a routine follow-up appointment with Doctor Rubio lands you where you least expected it: back in the ER.

content: ANGST, lots of medical stuff (vomit mentioned as a warning for those who are queasy), canon typical themes - mentions of threats to safety and guns (it's a criminal minds fic, what can you really expect?), some inherently political topics (death row and guns - nothing to sway one way or another, they're just mentioned), fluff at the very end

“Are you sure you don’t want me to go with you?” Spencer asked as he gathered up his belongings in order to head to Quantico for the morning. 

“I’m sure,” you replied before kissing his cheek and handing him a to-go cup of coffee, just the way he liked it, of course. “I’ve dragged you away from work and the team enough already over the last few months. It’s just a routine follow-up and test to clear me for field work again.”

“But, what if-”

“Ah, ah, ah!" you interrupted him with a quiet laugh following. A fond smile made its way onto your lips, and you ghosted your knuckles over Spencer's jawline as you told him, “I love you, and I appreciate your concern for my health more than I can ever express, but it’s okay for you to not be at every appointment.”

“I just worry…” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion as he pulled you in for a hug. 

“I know you do,” you mumbled into his chest. “I’ll call you when the appointment is done, though. Should take around three hours for everything.”

“I wish they would have just had you do an exercise stress test. You’re seeing if you’re cleared to go back into the field, so why not do it with something that would mimic that?” 

You shrugged as he released you from the hug, telling him, “I guess because of how volatile my case was, they don’t wanna risk me falling out at the appointment.”

“That’s fair…” Spencer relented with a sigh. 

“Now go, before you’re late to work!” you said with a quiet laugh, one last kiss for the road landing on his lips before he turned toward the door. “I love you!” you called after him.

“I love you too!” he replied, the boyish grin returning to his features. He never tired of hearing you say those three little words. He had heard you say them in a manner of different ways over your time spent together as a couple, and each one made him happier than the last. As he made his way to his car, he couldn’t help his mind from wandering back to daydreams of the, hopefully not so distant future, he had been having recently…

You looked up as your name was called by the receptionist, and the nurse who would be taking you back gave you a smile as you approached her. “You ready?” the bright young lady asked as she held the door open for you.

“As I’ll ever be,” you told her, now following her down the small hall and into a room. 

As you got settled onto the table, the nurse started up the machine to take your vitals. You sat quietly as she took them and told you, “When we’re done with this, I’ll hook you up to the cardiac monitor so that we can track what’s going on in there as Doc gives the meds.”

“Sounds good,” you told her.

After hooking you up to the monitor, she opened a cabinet nearby and grabbed an IV kit and got started on giving you an IV so the doctor had access to give you the medications. When she finished and made sure it was working, she exited the room, telling you that she was going to grab the medications for the doctor.

When you were alone in the room once more, you got comfortable on the table as you took some calming breaths when your anxiety began to spike. You told yourself that you were going to be fine, that you would pass the test and be cleared for field work by the end of the week! Your positive thoughts were interrupted, though, and you had to sit up as you felt a wave of nausea hit you out of nowhere, a dizzying feeling taking hold as you positioned yourself upright. 

You jumped at the sharp knock that the nurse gave before entering the room, your heart racing in your chest as she opened the door to reveal herself with some medications in hand. She looked you over and asked, “Everything all right? You’re looking a little queasy.”

“Just got really nauseous all of a sudden,” you replied, a slow breath being blown out of your pursed lips. 

“Oh! I’ll go ask if we can get you some Phenergan real quick!” she said, making a quick exit from the room. 

When she returned, it was with the doctor, and she gave you a dose of the nausea medication through your IV. As the doctor washed his hands, another wave of nausea hit you before promptly being knocked away by the medicine. “Better?” the nurse asked quietly, concern evident in her voice. Finally being able to take a deep breath, you leaned against the wall and closed your eyes, nodding while you did. 

There was a beat of silence that filled the air before Doctor Rubio cleared his throat and said, “Becca, I just got a message from the front desk saying that they need you to help with rooming other patients. The other nurse got stuck in a room. I can take it from here.”

“You got it,” she told him, taking off her gloves and heading out of the room. 

When the door clicked shut, Doctor Rubio turned toward you with a syringe in hand that was filled with a milky white substance, and said, “All right, this is the first medication that we give for the stress test. Are you ready?”

“Yes sir,” you replied, adjusting yourself on the bed so you were laying down. 

You felt a cool sensation as the doctor attached the syringe to your IV and began pushing the medication, and within moments your eyes were becoming heavy and your mind started to cloud. Before sleep could overtake your body, you heard his voice close to your ear as he said, “Sleep tight, Agent… Smile when you wake up, you’ll be on camera.” 

When you woke up what felt like seconds later, you squeezed your eyes closed when they registered the bright lights shining at you from above, a noise of discontent leaving your throat. There was a stinging pain in your arm that had the IV in it that you tried to ignore while you figured out what the hell was going on. In the brief seconds that you had your eyes open, you saw some of your surroundings. You were in a room that mostly empty other than some equipment that was still covered in plastic. You must have been in the new wing of the hospital… Not that knowing that helped you at all…

A few seconds later, you turned your head and tried opening your eyes again. What you saw when you opened them was Doctor Rubio sitting at a laptop as a camera was trained right at you. When your eyes made contact with the logo on the back of the laptop, things started to click together. The logo matched the tattoo you noticed on his arm before. It was the very same one that was the symbol of a gun running group you took down when you worked for Homeland…

“Ah, you’re finally awake!” Rubio said as he stood up from the laptop and began approaching you. While he did, you tried to sit up, but couldn’t when you realized that you were restrained to the hospital bed he had you on. “I wouldn’t try that if I were you,” he said in a dark tone, and you were sure he was giving you a sick smile under the mask he was wearing, judging by the crinkles by his eyes. He leaned in close and said quietly, “And I wouldn’t say anything either, if you knew what was good for you. Every time you do, your time is cut even shorter.”

“See this?” he asked as he stood back up to his full height and gestured to a bag of fluid that was currently flowing into the IV in your arm. “This is potassium chloride. The very drug that they use on Death Row to stop people’s hearts.” 

When he said this, your eyes widened, and he chuckled as he said, “I think you know where this is going, Agent.” There was a brief pause before he continued, saying, “Four years ago, before you worked for the FBI, before you joined the BAU, you worked on a special task force at Homeland Security. That task force was charged with taking down a group of people who worked under a man they called Sch��tze.” He flashed you the tattoo and added, “Schütze stood for our freedom. Our rights! And you got him sent to Death Row!” You had tried to ignore the part of your past, but you did remember that sometime within the last year, one of your old friends from Homeland had told you that Schütze had been given the injection...

Anger filled your chest when he said this and reminded you of the fear you faced during that takedown, and in a moment of rage, you bitterly told him, “Schütze didn’t stand for freedom, he stood for chaos and murder. The guns he smuggled into this country were responsible for hundreds, if not thousands of deaths!”

“He stood for the second amendment freedoms that this country is trying to take away from us!” Rubio shouted. He tsked as he made his way to the IV pole and rolled the dial on the clamp so that the fluid ran just a little faster into your bloodstream as he said, “He knew that the only way for us to keep our weapons was to make sure they couldn’t be traced. He knew that one day, they would come for us all. He knew that with his product, we would be able to raise an army of freedom fighters to protect our rights!”

“You’re delusional…” you muttered as you took in the wild look in the man’s eyes. 

“Tell that to the thousands of people watching the stream right now. They’re all here to watch you die,” he said while gesturing toward the camera. The roller on the potassium was opened up a little more as he told you, “When someone gets the lethal injection, they’re first given a large dose of a sedative so they’re unconscious. Then, they’re chemically paralyzed with just as large a dose of a paralytic. After that, they’re injected with potent potassium chloride, and their heart stops within a minute.” Rubio gestured toward the camera again as he said, “These people, though, want to see you suffer. I do too, if I’m honest. You see, ever since I brought you back here and you took a little propofol induced nap, I’ve been loading you up with potassium. As time passes, you’ll experience more symptoms of hyperkalemia, and we will all revel in the joy that comes with watching someone you hate slowly die.”

All throughout this time, you were struggling against the restraints holding you down, but as he neared the end of his monologue, you began to feel a staticy sensation in your arms and legs, as if they were falling asleep. To combat it, you opened and closed your hands to try and regain the feeling in them, and Rubio only chuckled as he said, “You’re already starting to feel it, aren’t you? That numbness you’re getting right now is one of the early signs.” 

He sat back down behind the laptop before saying, “While that infuses, let’s read some of these comments from other followers of Schütze, yeah?” A sick laugh left his throat as he read, “‘If I knew the bitch was practically in my backyard, I would have shot her in the head myself.’ I wonder how close that one lives to you and your lovely boyfriend, Agent.”

“Leave him out of this,” you told him in a dangerous tone.

“Ooh these ones are asking who the lucky man is. Where they can find him. I do know where you live. It would just take a few keystrokes and they would all know too…” Rubio said with a sneer. 

“You wouldn’t dare!” you snapped, which caused him to stand up and approach you with a dangerous look in his eye. He turned up the rate again, and this time you couldn’t even feel the sting in your arm as he did. Looking down at it, though, you saw how irritated it was becoming, and you knew that something was wrong if you could no longer feel the pain. 

“Oh, I would, though,” he told you as he stooped down and began undoing your restraints. “If you can get out of here, be my guest, but I have a feeling you won’t be able to.”

With your arms and legs free, you wanted to rip the IV out of your arm and get off of the bed so you could make a break for it, but as you willed your arm to reach for the IV line to rip it out, you couldn’t even move it more than an inch. Your legs were no different, and in your attempt to get off of the bed, you just managed to flip over onto your side, facing the camera fully as you gave in. There was no way you were getting off of this bed. There was no way you were getting that IV line out. It was likely you would be dying in this room, in front of that camera. 

As Rubio sat back behind his laptop and began reading more hateful and threatening comments to you, a wave of nausea far worse than before hit you. You tried to breathe through it, but couldn’t as the discomfort only increased as the seconds passed with no end in sight. You wished the medicine they had given you earlier was still in your system, but it seemed to be nowhere to be found as nausea took over and your stomach began to heave. You begged your body to hold on, but you couldn’t any longer, and it took all of your core strength to move yourself closer to the edge of the bed as you emptied your stomach onto the floor. 

Hot tears began to flow from your eyes when you finally stopped throwing up after nearly a minute, the nausea still ever-present as you closed your eyes and tried to keep yourself from completely going into a panic attack. You felt humiliated. Broken. Defeated. You wished that Rubio would just get on with it. Kill you himself with one of those ghost guns he was so proud to support. Make it quick. But that wasn’t what they wanted… They wanted you to suffer.

And suffer, you did. 

Another wave of nausea hit you, and you threw up again, but this time when you were finished, you could barely catch your breath. Your breathing was ragged as you tried to get oxygen into your lungs unsuccessfully, and the room began spinning around you the longer you kept on like that. 

Panic set in soon after, and you could just barely hear Rubio’s commentary over the ringing in your ears. Not a coherent thought ran through your mind, and everything began to blur together. What you were sure of though, was the sudden pain in your chest as you felt your heart kick into arrhythmia. This one you were unfamiliar with, though. It was different from the one you were diagnosed with.

Even as you continued to find yourself in the midst of a panic attack, you felt your heart rate begin to slow over the next few minutes, going even more sluggish than your normal rate as time passed. Soon, black started to dot your vision and everything started to slow down as consciousness began to slip away from you. Through your clouded thoughts, you forced yourself to picture Spencer. If these were to be your last moments on this planet, you would at least be thinking of him. A tear slipped out of your eye as you pictured him smiling at you, and you swore you heard his voice as your thoughts began to fade…

Earlier…

One o’clock rolled around, and while he was sitting down to eat his lunch, Spencer checked his phone to see if you had called with any updates. When he didn’t see anything, he decided that he would call you instead. Maybe you had been given some anxiety medication for the procedure and didn’t remember to update him… Three calls going unanswered over the next hour began to worry Spencer, so he spoke with Hotch and told him that he was going to the hospital to check on you. 

When Spencer arrived at the front desk of the cardiology center, he gave them your name and asked if you were done with your procedure yet. The clerk typed into her computer and told him, “It shows she hasn’t checked out or made her second follow-up appointment yet. The procedure should be done, though, so let’s go see how she’s doing.”

“Thank you,” Spencer said as he followed her toward the nurses’ station. 

When they arrived in the area, their presence was unnoticed as a nurse who looked distressed was being spoken to by two people who looked like administration. “I don’t know what to tell you, Becca! The machine records show that at nine forty-eight, you took out three bags of potassium and a vial of propofol!” 

“How many times do I have to tell you that I didn’t do that? Check the cameras if you have to! What patient was it even for? No one I was rooming today had low potassium. If they were that critical, I would have sent them to the ED!” 

“All I know is that those meds were taken out under your name with an override by Doctor Rubio! I just need to know why! As for who it was for…” she said the last part as she ran her finger over the paper and stopped when she found what she was looking for.

Spencer felt like everything stopped when she read off your name. Had something happened? Why did you need that much potassium? Propofol was a potent sedative…why did you need that for the stress test? Before he could think, Spencer walked up to the small group and said, “Excuse me, I’m the medical POA for the patient you just mentioned. Can you tell me what happened?”

“Go ahead,” the stern woman told Becca.

“I got her to the room, took her vitals, and started her IV. When I came back with the meds for the stress test, she was super nauseated, so I got Doctor Rubio to order some Phenergan and grabbed that from the machine. I…” she paused for a moment as she thought through the story carefully. “I don’t remember hearing the exit tone for the computer… Doctor Rubio was right behind me and told me to wait for him to go back into the room. Maybe…”

“You better be damn sure of that story before accusing the doctor of something like that,” the other person said in a huff.

“Well, is she still in the room?” Spencer asked urgently as he started to piece things together. 

“Let’s go see,” the clerk said as she began leading Spencer toward the room you had been taken to earlier. 

When they got in, Spencer saw your purse on the chair in the corner, but no you in sight. Rage and fear gripped him tight, and his voice raised nearly to a shout as he asked, “Where is she?”

“I-I don’t know!” Becca said from behind Spencer. “They needed my help out here, and it got busy!”

“Where’s the doctor?” Spencer snapped as his mind raced a mile a minute. That was nearly four hours ago! Who knows what could have been done to you or where you even were!

“Sir, please don’t raise your voice or else we’re going to have to get security to remove you,” the administration worker told him as she approached, pulling her phone out of her pocket as she did so she could dial security. 

“Remove me?! My girlfriend is suddenly missing from the procedure room she was supposed to be in after a sedative was taken out under her name along with a lethal amount of potassium! You need to be working on getting security footage of where she was taken!” Spencer shouted. He fumbled for his badge in his pocket and flashed it to her as he said, “She’s a member of the FBI, and if you don’t start working on helping me find her, we will charge you with aiding and abetting the abduction of an FBI agent and, so help me if it came to this, murder!” 

“Agent, you need to calm down, you’re causing a scene!” the woman snapped at him, skepticism obvious in her eyes as she looked at Spencer's badge.

“It’s Doctor,” Spencer told her as he pulled out his phone and dialed Hotch. 

“Everything okay?” Hotch asked as he answered the phone. 

“She’s missing,” Spencer told him quickly. “The doctor took out a sedative and a lethal amount of potassium and she hasn’t been seen since. I need the team here to help me find her.”

“We’ll be there in ten minutes,” he said.

“Get Garcia to look into Doctor Jordan Rubio. He’s the one who might have taken her,” Spencer said before Hotch hung up and began briefing the team on what was going on at the hospital. 

The rest of the team showed up right as Spencer was arguing with security, telling them, “The longer this goes on, the less of a chance we have at finding her! Do you really want-”

“FBI, what’s going on here?” Hotch asked, flashing his badge as he approached the group still standing in the hallway. 

“You-you’re actually?” the administration lady said wearily as the team approached. 

“Yes, he’s actually FBI, and so is the agent that is missing from that room,” Hotch told her sternly. “Now, what you’re going to do is take me to where I can see the security footage of the last five hours, and we’re going to figure out where she was taken.”

“Y-yes sir,” she said timidly as her eyes turned down toward the floor. 

“JJ, Rossi, split up and start searching. Morgan, you’re with Reid. I’ll tell you if there are any updates from the security cameras,” Hotch directed, sending a look of concern Spencer’s way. 

“There’s a brand new wing being built, we’ll head that way,” Derek said before gesturing for Spencer to follow him as he hustled away. 

Spencer nodded and started to follow, worry evident in his voice as he began to say, “Derek, what if-”

“There’s no what if. We’re going to find her,” he told him firmly. “Now come on, we’ve got seven floors to search.”

Back in the security area, Hotch stood behind the person at the computer who was accessing the footage of the last few hours when his phone began to ring. “Talk to me, Garcia.”

“I was looking into the doctor and found some pages that he follows under a pseudonym on the dark web. They’re all in support of Schütze, the man she took down when she worked at Homeland, and-” 

She cut herself off abruptly, and Hotch heard the gasp of air that filled her lungs, so he asked sharply, “What is it, Garcia?”

“He’s live streaming right now… He…he’s… Oh, God, it’s awful, Hotch.” She swallowed hard before saying, “The stream is titled ‘Killing a Killer - Justice for Schütze’”

“Oh, God…” Hotch whispered, grabbing the back of the office chair in front of him. “Does it look like he has her in the hospital?”

“Yes, yes, there isn’t much in the room, but it looks like- Oh my God!”

“What?!” Hotch asked sharply.

“She’s-” Penelope had to turn away from the stream as she told Hotch, “She’s throwing up and it looks like she's having a hard time breathing! Oh, God…”

“Focus, Garcia! What’s the room look like?” 

“Right! There isn’t much in the room, it looks like it hasn’t been worked in. In the corner of the shot, there’s a cabinet that’s still got factory packaging covering it,” she replied after taking a few deep breaths to settle her own stomach. 

“Send me a picture of that video. I need to confirm with the staff that it’s here.”

“Sending it your way… Now,” she told him as she sent him the screenshot. 

Hotch’s phone rang with a notification, and he quickly looked at the photo. Sadness and rage began to pool in his chest as he shoved it under the security officer’s nose asking, “Is this here?”

“Oh, God…” the man whispered as he looked at the photo. He was quiet for a moment before he nodded and said, “That’s in the new wing. I couldn’t tell you which floor, though.”

Without a further word, Hotch turned and started running down the hall, pulling a walking off of his belt and radioing the others. “She’s in the new wing! JJ, Rossi, get there now! I’m heading there too. Morgan, Reid, what floor are you two on?”

“We cleared the first floor, she wasn’t there. Heading to the second now,” Derek responded. 

“Okay. JJ go to the third, Rossi to the fourth, and I’ll take the fifth. Work fast, there are still two floors above those,” Hotch ordered as he rounded a corner and pushed open the new wing’s stairwell door. 

“Three more doors, Reid, come on,” Derek said as he once again quietly closed a door so they wouldn’t give themselves away. 

“Wait!” Spencer exclaimed quietly, holding up a hand for Derek to stop what he was doing. “Do you hear that?”

Derek strained his ears to hear, and after a few seconds heard what Spencer was. Two doors down, they both heard a male’s voice speaking and then…laughing. White, hot rage filled Spencer’s entire being when he heard the laughter, but before he could make a move toward the door, Derek held out an arm in front of him as he said, “Look, I get that you want to get to her, but we need to be smart about this, man! Treat it like any other case. I’ll go for the unsub and you go to her. Got it?” 

“Got it,” Spencer said with a curt nod as Derek lowered his arm and raised the other to hold his firearm up as they approached the room. 

Spencer’s heart was racing as they approached the door, and as they got closer, the voice of Doctor Rubio was unmistakable. The things he was saying were vile… Of people wanting to hurt you. Stalk you. Kill you. It was all too much for Spencer to hear those things being said about you, and he almost missed Derek’s queue to bust into the room. He zoned in just in time though for Derek to swing the door open and announce, “FBI! Hands where I can see ‘em!”

“You hear that everyone? The FBI’s here to arrest me! If you see their faces, they’re targets too!” Rubio shouted as he stood up from the chair he was sitting in after hitting a few more buttons on his keyboard. 

“Jordan Rubio, you’re under arrest for the abduction and attempted murder of a federal agent. You have the right to remain silent. Everything you say can and will be held against you in a court of law,” Derek started to say to Rubio as he shoved him against the wall to begin cuffing him. 

Spencer paid no mind to what Derek was saying, though. The second he was in that room and saw that you were there, he shouted your name as he darted toward you. Taking a quick glance at the scene, he saw the IV bag of potassium pouring into you and grabbed for it, disconnecting the fluid from the line as quickly as he could. He saw your eyes closed and your body motionless on the bed, with only shallow breaths moving your chest up and down. “No, no, no, no, no, no, no!” Spencer whispered as he stepped carefully to avoid the sick on the floor. He gently tapped your cheek to rouse you, and when you didn’t stir, he checked your pulse, shouting, “She isn’t responding and her pulse is 47! Morgan, radio Hotch and tell him we need the ER team here now!” 

“By now her potassium level is likely nearing seven at least. That’s lethal. If she isn’t already gone, she doesn’t have much time left,” Rubio said with a sick laugh. 

“Man, shut the hell up!” Derek told him as he pulled his radio off of his belt and informed Hotch of the situation. After he radioed Hotch and got confirmation that the ER team was on their way, he turned toward the computer and hit the mute button as he dialed Penelope. When she answered, he was quick to say, “Hey, Baby Girl. I’m sure you already found this stream, but before I shut it down, I wanted to make sure you don’t need anything from it for evidence.”

“Shut it down, I've already got everything I need,” she told him promptly. He did so, and after a few keystrokes, the thing was shut off. “Now get that sick son of a bitch away from her.”

“Already on it,” Derek said as he hung up the phone and shoved it back into his pocket, grabbing Rubio by the cuffs and nudging him out of the door. 

When he got into the hallway, he had to jump out of the way of the ER team with their stretcher, who were quickly followed by Hotch, Rossi, and JJ as they all converged on the scene. “Is she gonna be okay?” JJ asked, out of breath from the run she just went on up and down the stairs. 

“I hope so,” Derek said, shaking his head sadly as he watched you being stretchered out of the room. The team had a bag mask they were using to help you breathe, and a crash cart was on the bed just in case the worst happened as you were being transported. Spencer trailed behind, rattling off your medical history and what he knew about what happened as they went. 

By the time you were in the emergency room, you had a team of nurses, a respiratory therapist, and a doctor surrounding you. As much as Spencer wanted to be by your side and hold your hand through this, he knew he would just be in the way, so he stood in the corner, helpless. One nurse who had run out of the room came back in, telling the doctor, “Her potassium level is 6.8.”

“We gotta K wash her. Courtney, put in orders for 80 milligrams of furosemide IV, ten units of regular insulin IV push, D50 IV push, and calcium gluconate IV. Order to recheck labs in an hour. Get a couple new IVs in her, this one’s badly extravasated. We'll some procaine hydrochloride 1% and lidocaine on board as well. She also needs a foley to monitor her output.” 

“On it,” the nurse at the computer said before she began rapidly typing into the computer to get orders in. Other nurses began carrying out the other orders, working together to get everything done before the medications arrived. 

Spencer took solace in the fact that after they gave you the medications, your heart rate started to head toward a normal rate, although the rhythm was still funky. When everything that could be done for the time was finished, Spencer was able to move from the corner, pulling up a chair beside the bed and lacing his fingers in yours. He let out a shaky breath as he lifted your hand to kiss the back of it, tears beginning to fall from his eyes when you didn’t show any sign of a response to him. “I’m sorry… I’m so…so sorry,” he whispered, his voice broken with emotion. 

“It’s not your fault, you know,” came Hotch’s voice from behind him as he entered the room. 

“I should’ve pushed to go with her to the appointment,” Spencer said, not turning to look at his unit chief because of the shame that filled his body at the fact that something like this even happened. 

“How could you have known?” he asked softly. “That brain of yours is capable of many things, but telling the future isn’t one of them.”

There was a silence that filled the air for a few moments before Spencer said, “He has a tattoo. On his wrist. It’s the logo of the group Schütze ran. It was on the laptop he was streaming with.”

“Had you seen the tattoo before today?” 

“No…” Spencer admitted. “I think she had though. The day we went to Rubio to get her diagnosis, she was distracted when he came into the room and washed his hands. He…” Spencer’s breathing picked up as he talked through the story and anger started to build inside his chest once more, his voice raising slightly as he said, “He even acknowledged that she saw it!” He finally looked toward Hotch, and he saw the anger in Spencer’s eyes as he did, a pang of sympathy resonating in his chest as Spencer plowed forward, telling him, “But she never said anything about it. Maybe she didn’t fully recognize it. The human brain tends to block out certain things as part of a trauma response, especially in cases like hers where she was threatened by the group’s followers for a while during the court proceedings. They stopped after a while, so she stopped worrying about them. Filed it all away in the back of her mind...”

“So, do you blame her?”

“W-what?” Spencer asked, shocked at the question. “Of course not!”

“Then don’t blame yourself, either,” he told him, a light squeeze on Spencer’s shoulder as he did. Before he turned to go, Hotch added, “The bureau's got US Marshals on the way to keep watch over the two of you. With the threats that were coming from that stream, safety is a vital concern right now. Until then, Morgan is going to stay here with the two of you, and a thoroughly vetted police officer will be posted outside of the door.”

“Thank you,” Spencer said with a short nod. 

“I’ll be checking in, but for now I think you need to focus on someone else,” he said with a small smile on his lips as he nodded his head toward you. 

When Spencer turned back toward you, he saw your eyes fluttering open, and a wide smile made its way onto his lips as he whispered, “Hey.”

“Spencer?” you asked wearily. A quiet sob fell from your lips before you said, “You found me…”

“Not just me, Derek too,” Spencer said as he grabbed your hand once more, right as the door opened to reveal Derek walking in. He squeezed your hand as he told you with all the sincerity in the world, “I would never give up on finding you. Ever.”

A smile made its way onto Derek’s face when he saw your eyes open, and it was evident in his voice as he said, “Hey, Sunshine!”

“Did you get him? Doctor Rubio?” you asked. 

Spencer looked to Derek for the answer, and he nodded, telling you, “He’s in custody right now. Charged with the abduction and attempted murder of a federal agent. He should get 25 to life without the possibility of parole. We just gotta do the work to make sure he gets life.”

As you nodded, you suddenly cringed at the pain in your arm, a sharp breath being sucked in as everything hit you at once. “Well, I can feel my limbs again…” you muttered as you leaned your head back onto the pillow, squeezing your eyes closed for some sort of relief that didn’t come. 

You were quiet for a few moments before tears began to spill from your eyes as you said, “I’m sorry, Spence… I… I should’ve known, I just… I couldn’t remember where I had seen that tattoo before. I was feeling sick right before he came in, and it got worse when I saw the tattoo again, and I-I should have just left. I should’ve just gone home and-”

“Hey, hey, hey, this isn’t on you,” Spencer told you, remembering Hotch’s words to him only minutes before. 

“Yeah, you can’t blame yourself for someone else’s actions. Especially those of a sociopath,” Derek reminded you. 

You barely heard their words, though, as a wave of nausea hit you. It wasn’t as strong as before when you were in that room with Rubio, but you practically felt the color drain from your face as your stomach lurched a bit. “I need a nurse…” you managed to whisper as you covered your mouth. 

Frantically looking around the room, Spencer spotted a package of alcohol swabs and grabbed one after hitting the button to summon a nurse to the room. He ripped it open and put it under your nose as he said, “Just breathe for me. In through your nose.” 

“What are you doing?” Derek asked, his eyebrows furrowed as he took in the scene in front of him. 

“Smelling isopropyl alcohol helps relieve nausea. There are a few theories as to why, one of which has to do with chemoreceptors in the brain, and another to do with the body naturally reacting to the strong smell by breathing in a way that helps reduce the nausea,” Spencer told him as the nurse entered the room. “Can she have anything for nausea?” he asked when she made their presence. 

“Yes, and I have to draw labs again to see what her potassium is, so I’ll do all that when I come back with that medicine,” she said, turning around and heading out the room. 

The results of the lab draw were still critical, so they transferred you to the ICU in order to receive aggressive treatment to bring the level down to normal. As the evening dragged on, your symptoms waxed and waned, with occasional heart palpitations and nausea being your biggest complaints. 

You were surprised that no one from the Bureau had come to question you about what happened. You were sure that it was heavily influenced by Hotch, who, you had no doubt was trying to give you time to heal before the barrage of questioning came. Your time to heal seemed to be up, though, when in the morning, there was a knock on the glass door and in came three people: Hotch, and two people who introduced themselves as agents from the Bureau and the US Marshal’s office respectively. 

Hotch sent you an apologetic look as they pulled up chairs and the bedside table so they could take notes and fill out forms as they talked with you. The hospital staff were informed that they were not allowed in the room unless there was an emergency, and the questioning began. 

During the line of questioning, you obviously had to inform the Bureau official taking your case about your relationship with Spencer, which earned a look of disapproval until Hotch pulled the papers you both signed out of a briefcase he had on the cabinet beside him. You took the agent through everything you felt was important to the case, telling him everything you could remember up until you blacked out. 

When he was done with his questions, the Marshal agent straightened up some papers on the table as she cleared her throat. “Now, I know that you recall some of the comments that Doctor Rubio read to you while he had you down there, but we went through all that Agent Garcia archived, and we have some concerns.”

“Concerns such as?” Spencer asked.

“Well, we’re concerned that, even after the case is tried, there will still be a threat to her safety,” she told him. She turned back to you and said, “There were numerous threats for stalking, killing, and even sexual assault. Even more so than during the trial for Schütze. And we've already stopped a few trying to get into the hospital. From now through the trial period, you’ll have the full protection of US Marshals 24/7, but we would like you to go into witness protection afterward. There are thousands who still practically worship Schütze, and now that Schütze's been given the injection, and the man who tried to hurt you because of it is in custody...”

“I’d never be safe again…” you whispered, your eyes closing as a soft sigh left your lungs and a few tears fell from your eyes. 

“Wait, wait, wait, you wanna put her into WitSec?” Hotch asked sharply, his hands going to his hips in a stern manner as he loomed over the agent. 

“Agent Hotchner, I know that you have your reservations about this, and what happened with your ex wife was a total failure on our part, but-”

“But nothing! She-”

“She needs to be protected! End of story, agent!” she said sternly. “There are thousands of people out there, claiming to have these ghost guns that Schütze brought into the country, threatening her life. Trying to get into the hospital! If she isn’t put under the protection of the US Marshal’s office, she is going to die. I’m sorry to be so blunt, but that’s just how it is!”

“I’ll do it,” you told her, making a hush fall over the room.

Did you want to? No. Going into WitSec meant leaving everything behind. It meant leaving your family behind. But it also meant that you had a chance of living. And you couldn’t take that for granted. 

“I’m going with you,” Spencer said immediately after you gave your consent. 

“Woah, woah, woah, Spence! Think about this for a second. You’d be leaving everything you’ve made for yourself behind. What about your mom?”

“She’s immediate family, she’d be able to go into the program too,” he replied. 

The agent cleared her throat once more before saying, “The problem with that, though, Doctor Reid, is that you aren’t immediate family.”

Without missing a beat, Spencer grabbed your hand in between his and said something that completely shocked you. “Marry me. Before the trial’s over. We’ll have it in Rossi’s backyard. One last celebration as a team…as a family before we go. We’ll be legally married before you have to fully enter the program, and-”

“Spence-” you started to say, but were interrupted by him barreling forward with his thoughts. 

“And before you ask, no, this isn’t a rash decision. I’ve had a ring for months. When you had your first scare in Tennessee, I realized that I can’t live without you, so I went with Penelope to pick out a ring for you pretty soon after. Why do you think I freaked out the other day when you were using that step stool to find something in the kitchen cupboard?”

You laughed quietly before saying, “I just thought you were being overprotective again.” Shaking your head and getting back on topic, you couldn’t help the smile on your face as you told him, “But yes, I’ll marry you.”

“Really?!” Spencer asked, tears welling up in his eyes as a wide smile made its way onto his lips. 

“Yes, really,” you told him, leaning in for a quick kiss on his lips that he deepened for a moment before realizing that there were still three other people in the room. 

“Sorry…” he mumbled sheepishly as he sat back in his chair. 

“Well, I guess that settles it then. As long as the two of you are legally married before the court reaches a verdict, Doctor Reid and his mother will go into WitSec as well,” the agent said. “Since your face was on the stream too, you are also getting threats, Doctor Reid, but not to the same extent. There was going to be a separate conversation about that more privately, but…” She stood up and straightened out her blazer before saying, “Congratulations. Just tell the marshals when you plan on having the wedding, and we can get some extra protection for the night.”

“Thank you,” you and Spencer replied in unison as she and the bureau agent turned to leave the room. 

When the door closed once more, Spencer looked over and said, “Hotch, I’m sorry, I-”

Hotch put his hand up to stop Spencer, telling him, “Don’t be sorry. Agent Monroe was right. I should be apologizing for how I acted. It was selfish to project my past onto others. Especially when it comes to something like this.” A smile started to make its way onto his lips as he said, “Now, it’ll be hard to find replacements for the likes of you two, but I’m happy to see you engaged. It’s a hard job to keep a stable marriage in, so I’m glad that you two will get the chance to make things work. You deserve it.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, a smile on your lips, but mixed emotions running rampant through your mind. Happiness prevailed though, and you couldn’t help the giddy feeling you got at the thought of being married to Spencer. 

a/n: well that was a wild ride, now wasn't it? Spencer and Reader get to get married, but at the cost of losing their identities because of psychopaths who worship Schütze. the angst in this one was real, but so was the fluff when it was there! stay tuned for the fourth (and final) part of what's turned into a mini series! i'm gonna be so honest, i don't know when i'll have time to write it, but just know that it will happen!

also little disclaimer obviously all of this is made up. if there is a real person who goes by Schütze and runs a gun smuggling gang, that's a whole ass coincidence lmao

taglist: @reidmarieprentiss @i-live-in-spite @readingandbaking

dividers by: @bernardsbendystraws

[ivyues]

Tangled Lines | 1 | - Seungmin

Seungmin x Lee Know's sister

What started as a simple favor, dropping off a bag, spirals into a whirlwind of unexpected feelings and unspoken tension.

Part 2: Caught in the Middle | Part 3: Future Hyung-in-Law

It was supposed to be a quick errand. Lee Know had left his bag at home, and you were on your way to Seoul for a short trip anyway. You’d planned to drop it off at his dorm – no big deal. You didn’t expect much, certainly not a run-in with anyone other than your brother.

You followed the directions Lee Know had sent you and pulled up to the apartment complex. He'd mentioned his dorm several times, but this was the first time you’d ever actually been here. As you walked up to the door, you hesitated for a moment, unsure.

You rang the doorbell and waited. After a few moments, the door swung open, and there stood a guy you didn’t recognize.

He was tall-ish, dressed casually, with messy dark hair and an easy smile. And though you didn’t know exactly who he was, you couldn’t help but notice how cute he looked, his eyes lighting up with surprise and curiosity when he saw you standing there with a bag in hand.

“Hi…?” You hesitated, unsure if you had the right place. “Uh, I’m looking for Lee Minho? I’m his sister – he left something at home and I’m supposed to drop it off.”

The guy blinked in confusion for a split second, then his expression softened into something warmer. “Ah, so you’re his sister. He didn’t really mention that he has one. I’m Seungmin, by the way. Hyung isn’t home right now, but you’re welcome to wait.”

You were still standing at the door, processing everything. This was definitely not Lee Know. You had imagined this whole interaction would be simple: drop off the bag, say a quick hello, and head out. But there was something about Seungmin’s easy going demeanor that made you hesitate.

“Oh,” you said, realizing you were probably standing there awkwardly. You tried to adjust the bag in your hand, giving him a nervous smile. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. I can just leave it here—”

“No, no,” Seungmin cut you off, holding up his hands in a gesture of reassurance. “It’s fine. Come on in. He would probably kill me if I didn’t let you inside. Lee Know’s stuff is everywhere, though – warning in advance.” He gave a sheepish grin, clearly used to the chaos.

“Okay, thanks,” you said, stepping inside.

As soon as you entered, you realized that he was right – Lee Know’s ‘stuff’ was indeed scattered everywhere. Shoes piled near the door, jackets on the couch, random snacks, and clutter in every corner. It felt so… lived-in. Real. It was kind of charming, in a messy, chaotic way.

“So, do you guys always live like this?” you asked, half teasing, half amused by the clutter.

Seungmin chuckled. “You should see Felix’s side. This is nothing compared to his mess.” He led you into the living room, where he motioned to the couch. “Make yourself at home. I’ll grab some water for you while you wait.”

As Seungmin disappeared into the kitchen, you sat down on the couch, looking around. You hadn’t expected to spend time here, but the laid-back atmosphere made it feel oddly comfortable. You noticed a few framed photos of the group on the wall – some from concerts, others just candid shots of the guys laughing together.

Seungmin returned with a glass of water and handed it to you. He sat down on the arm of the couch, casually resting one foot on the seat. He didn’t seem rushed, nor did he act weird about the fact that you were here in Lee Know’s absence.

“So, I take it you and Lee Know are pretty close?” Seungmin asked, taking a sip from his own glass of water.

“Yeah, we’re close,” you said with a smile. “He’s my older brother, so, of course, he’s annoying. But that’s what older brothers are for, right?”

Seungmin nodded, his lips curving into a grin. “I know exactly what you mean.”

You laughed, the easy back-and-forth making you feel more comfortable. And, truth be told, you found yourself glancing at him more than you had planned. He was cute, undeniably so, with his expressive eyes and the way he seemed so effortlessly relaxed even in the middle of a stranger walking into his home.

You casually brought up something about how Lee Know was always messing around with his bandmates, and Seungmin smiled at the comment, sharing a story of their last rehearsal and how Lee Know had pulled a prank on Hyunjin. It felt so easy, like you were just chatting with a friend you’d known forever.

A few minutes later, you heard the door open, and you looked up to see Lee Know walking in with Felix and I.N trailing behind him. He froze when he saw you sitting there with Seungmin, a strange look flashing across his face.

“Uh,” Lee Know said, his voice tinged with surprise and something else you couldn’t quite place. “What are you doing here?”

“I brought your bag,” you said casually, holding it up for him. “You left it at home. Seungmin was nice enough to let me wait for you.”

Lee Know shot a quick glance at Seungmin, who was now grinning, clearly enjoying the moment. “So you two are already chatting it up?”

“Yeah,” Seungmin replied smoothly. “We were just getting to know each other. Your sister’s cool.”

Seungmin didn’t just mean it as a compliment; there was a teasing note to his voice, and you could tell he was just enjoying the moment with Lee Know. But there was something in the way he spoke, as though he was daring Lee Know to be annoyed. You could tell it was playful – he wasn’t quite serious, and he didn’t think anything more would come from it. After all, he didn’t even want to start anything that might cause trouble. But for now, he wanted to tease Lee Know, especially since it was so easy to get a rise out of him like that.

You stood up, handing Lee Know the bag. “I’ll leave you guys to it.”

You could tell by the way Seungmin looked at you that he wasn’t just teasing you; there was something more genuine behind the conversation. But of course, you’d never let your brother know that.

-----

Felix, ever the social butterfly, had exchanged numbers with you long before, and somewhere in the process of joking group chats and shared chaos, Seungmin had slid into your messages.

The texts started off simple.

A casual “thanks for the water” message after your first visit turned into occasional updates about Lee Know: "Your brother’s sulking because Changbin ate his snacks again" or "Did he always hoard laundry like this?" 

You didn’t think much of it at first. After all, Seungmin was easy to talk to. He had a quick wit that matched your sarcasm, and his humor always made you laugh harder than you’d admit. But the conversations had shifted somewhere along the way – becoming more personal, more frequent.

It wasn’t just updates about Lee Know anymore.

Seungmin: “Did you see that new ramen place on your side of town?” You: “I’ve heard it’s good. Why, thinking of coming all the way here?” Seungmin: “Maybe I just needed an excuse.”

It was subtle, these shifts. A lingering tone of something that felt like flirting but stayed safely within the lines of plausible deniability. But you caught yourself smiling at his messages more than you should.

The problem was, you liked him.

Not in a passing way or a harmless crush you could laugh off later. No, Seungmin’s steady humor and surprising kindness were becoming harder to ignore. He wasn’t just cute; he was the kind of guy who listened, who noticed little things, who made you feel at ease even when you were overthinking everything.

But every time you thought about it – about what it might mean – you hit a wall.

Your brother’s voice played in your head whenever you thought about crossing that invisible line. What would he think if he knew? Worse, what if it messed things up in the group? You didn’t want to be the reason Seungmin hesitated during practice or avoided Lee Know’s eye.

And Seungmin? Well, he had his own internal battle.

The teasing texts and playful banter were easy – familiar ground that didn’t require him to confront how he was starting to feel about you. But when you sent him a photo of the ramen you’d finally tried, captioned with "Guess you missed out", he stared at his screen longer than he should have.

It wasn’t the photo or the food. It was your smile, that small, effortless curve of your lips that had been stuck in his mind since the day you showed up at the dorm.

"Get it together, Seungmin," he muttered under his breath.

Lee Know was his friend, his brother in everything but blood. And falling for you wasn’t just breaking an unspoken rule; it felt like betraying that bond.

One night, after a long day of rehearsals, Seungmin found himself scrolling through your chat history. His finger hovered over the keyboard, debating whether or not to reply to your latest message. You’d sent him a photo of one of your cats – curled up in a pile of freshly folded laundry.

He smiled despite the unease feelings, typing back before he could second-guess it:

“Looks like you’re more of a cat person too. Must run in the family.” You replied instantly “I love my cats, but I don’t mind dogs either. Don’t tell Lee Know though – he’d probably disown me for even saying that.” and the conversation spiraled into a late-night exchange about pets, chaotic siblings, and everything in between. It was easy. Too easy.

And then you said something that made his heart stop.

“I always feel like I can tell you anything. Weird, right?”

He stared at the words, feeling a tug in his chest that he couldn’t ignore anymore. He wanted to feel proud of that – of being someone you trusted. But all he could think about was how wrong it felt to be the person catching feelings for you.

He set his phone down, rubbing a hand over his face. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

You’d noticed the shift in his texts lately – the hesitation, the shorter replies. You felt a pang of guilt. Maybe he was pulling back, realizing that this… whatever it was between you… shouldn’t be happening.

And you couldn’t blame him. You’d thought about pulling back yourself.

But instead, late one evening, you found yourself typing out a message you weren’t sure you’d send.

You: “I feel like we’ve both been avoiding something. And I get it – I do. But… I can’t keep pretending I don’t care about you. And I don’t want to mess things up for you or my brother, so if this needs to stop, just tell me, okay?”

You stared at the screen for what felt like an eternity before pressing send.

Seungmin: “I care about you too. Probably more than I should. But I don’t want this to hurt anyone – least of all you.”

The relief of his words hit you immediately, but so did the weight of his hesitation.

You: “So what do we do?”

Seungmin hesitated, his fingers hovering over the keyboard before he finally typed:

Seungmin: “We take it slow. We’re honest – with each other, with Lee Know, when the time’s right. And if this starts feeling wrong, we stop. No questions asked.”

-----

Seungmin sat in the practice room long after everyone else had left. He fiddled with his phone, the screen dark, but his thoughts racing. He had made a decision, one he couldn’t back out of now.

He unlocked his phone, scrolling to your name in his messages.

Seungmin: “I’m going to talk to him.”

The three dots indicating your reply appeared almost instantly.

You: “Are you crazy?”

Seungmin could almost hear your voice in the text – half incredulous, half offended.

You: “I mean, I get it. He deserves to know, and I respect that. But seriously… you’re telling him this?”

Seungmin: “I don’t want to go behind his back. It’s not just about this – it’s about the group, too. This has to be on the table.”

You: “Fine. But don’t expect me to save you if he kills you.”

He smiled faintly at the reply but couldn’t shake the nerves coiled in his chest.

When Lee Know walked into the practice room, his phone still in his hands, he paused, eyebrows furrowed. “What are you still doing here?”

Seungmin stood up, slipping his phone into his pocket. “Waiting for you.”

Lee Know gave him a wary glance, closing the door behind him. “What’s this about?”

“Hyung,” Seungmin started, his tone unusually serious, “can we talk for a minute? Like, for real?”

Lee Know’s expression shifted slightly at the earnestness in Seungmin’s voice. “Okay… What’s up?”

Seungmin sat back down on the couch, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s about your sister.”

Lee Know’s posture straightened immediately, his eyes narrowing. “What about her?”

Seungmin hesitated for a moment before forcing himself to meet Lee Know’s gaze. “Since she dropped off your bag… we’ve been talking. Just texting, mostly. Nothing serious has happened, and I swear it hasn’t crossed any lines. But… I like her.”

The room went uncomfortably quiet. Lee Know blinked slowly, his face unreadable.

“You like her?” he repeated, his tone flat.

Seungmin nodded. “Yeah. And I wanted to tell you before anything else happened because…” He exhaled, his voice softening. “Because I respect you, hyung. You’re like a brother to me, and I don’t want to screw that up by hiding something like this from you.”

Lee Know stared at him for a long moment, his expression somewhere between disbelief and scrutiny.

Finally, he sighed, crossing his arms. “I don’t even know where to start. First of all, you? Of all people?”

Seungmin let out a dry laugh. “What, am I not good enough?”

“That’s not what I meant,” Lee Know shot back, rolling his eyes. “It’s just… unexpected.”

“Trust me, it’s unexpected for me too,” Seungmin admitted.

Lee Know rubbed his temples. “You’re not messing around, are you? This isn’t some prank or… I don’t know, something stupid?”

“It’s not a joke,” Seungmin said firmly. “I mean it. And honestly…” He hesitated, then added, “Maybe it won’t even go anywhere. I don’t know. It’s early, and nothing has really happened yet. But I’d rather be upfront about it than hide it.”

Lee Know studied him for another long moment before letting out a heavy sigh. “Look, I’m not thrilled about this. She’s my sister, Seungmin. And you’re…” He gestured vaguely. “You’re you.”

Lee Know leaned forward, his voice dropping as he let out a soft groan. “But I get it. She’s great. And I can't exactly tell her who to see.”

Seungmin’s shoulders relaxed a fraction, relief flickering across his face.

“That said,” Lee Know continued, his tone sharpening again, “if you screw this up – even a little – I will make your life miserable. And I don’t mean in a fun, teasing way. Got it?”

Seungmin nodded seriously. “Understood.”

Lee Know leaned back, shaking his head. “I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?”

“I’ll do my best to make sure you don’t,” Seungmin said, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Good. Now get out of here before I change my mind.”

Seungmin stood up. “Thanks, hyung.”

As Seungmin left the practice room, Lee Know called after him, “And don’t expect me to go easy on you during dance practice!”

-----

Later that night, Seungmin texted you.

Seungmin: “Mission accomplished. I’m alive, and your brother didn’t kill me.”

You: “I’m surprised. I half-expected him to throw you out a window.”

Seungmin: “He might have, but I reminded him how irreplaceable I am. Also, he threatened me, so we’re all good now.”

You laughed at the text, shaking your head.

Your phone buzzed again, this time with a message from Lee Know.

Lee Know: “Seriously? The dog? I’m telling Songie, Dongie, and Dori that you don’t love them anymore.”

masterlist

[crystalmagpie447]

mmm, good good, excellent

*pulling up a chair and looking at you with my big ol eyes*

Tell me more about your boys! What's their personalities? How do they treat each other? How do they each interact with yn? Anything you have I will eat up, and no worries if there's certain things you're still waiting to reveal :)

THERE IT IS!!

Plotline (or soemthing): management decides to give the daycare attendant wings, after an accident that caused their zipline to break midair ☠️. (This isnt thatbig of an unusual change because every human type person has wings ((avians??idk i just like wings)

Somehow during maintenance, sun and moon get tha virus™ 

This makes them more irrated/closed off/nervous than usual, but they dont understand why (virus gets worse as the story progresses, y/n takes it upon themselves to figure out how to help)

Personalities!!

- Sun (pre-upgrade): joyous and silly!! For the kids at least 

Never really liked talking w/ human staff because they never talk to him

(Post upgrade and when reader starts working at the plex): joyous and silly still!!! But as time goes on you wonder how much of it is an act. His smile only really seems full when hes entertaining the children, and you figure its because thats what he was built for. 

Usually steers you away from topics and conversations he does not want to talk about, but if you pry too much hell probably snap and saysomething mean (OURGH i think itd be easier to draw or write interactions in order to explainthis better sorry☠️☠️)

Nicknames for reader: buttercup, busybee, sunshine

Moon (pre- upgrade)

Jestery and silly!! Ofc ofc but also a kind/ comforting presence, loved naptime, and the kids loved him!!! 

Never interacted with human staff tho, but if he ever caught  a worker (or any adult rlly)  staring at him, or saying mean things abt either attendants, hed probably stare creepily at them untill they got freaked out and ran away lol OR find someother way to spook them if that wasnt scary enough)

(post upgrade)

Alot less patient, alot more mean/intimidating (and off-putting)

Parents (and staff) complained abt him acting weird and most stopped taking their kids to the daycare 

Soo sun takes over naptime, and moon becomes security at night (yesyes the usual ☝️)

When y/n meets him hes mean and tricky, because he expects them to be just like all the other staff

But when he realises youre not, (and at times when hes more in control) his slightly ill-intended pranks lighten up to teasing and playfulness (huzzah!!)

Has a music box in his chest 

Nicknames for reader: dragonfly, nightengale, starlight

(THEY CAN BOTH FLY!! How?? Idk ☠️)

Reader: s ome guy (lol) (in their early 20’s orsomething ((ill probably never really mention this if i ever do choose to write stuff, so ‘tis up for interpretation!!) looking for a job 

Juggling college and hoping to earn some money on the side 

Has some kind of defect where their wings stopped growing at one point, and are too small to allow them to fly 

Personality: ourrgh i dont think ive thought too much abt their personality actually LOL

S t ubborn (will get irritated but cares too much to give up!!)

Jumps to conclusions but will wait until evidence is provided in order to believe said conclusions (doesnt want to be wrong or annoying) 

Nickname for sun: sunny

Nickname for moon: moon-man

@midnight-mourning

HAVE AT THEE!!!

[thatonesonicfanfictionwriter]

I have a very cute shadow the hedgehog x fem&mobian!reader fanfic idea

So basically the reader is a HUGE AND I MEAN HUGE otaku and mostly 🌟magical girl fan🌟, she wears all magical girl outfits loves anime like smile precure, cardcapture sakura, sailor moon etc etc and Shadow takes notice pretty quickly so when he goes to a mall to get gifts for reader for Christmas mas he finds a whole store dedicated to just anime magical girl stuff so he practically buys the whole store just for the reader🥹💗🌟

(also this may or may not be projecting myself to reader..hehe..oopsies..(о´∀`о) )

“Minor Obsession”

Pairing: Shadow the Hedgehog x Reader

Requested: Yes (by @shadowchan009 ).

Description: When you had gotten into your current obsession, you did not expect Shadow to pick up on it, let alone get anything for you. Boy, were you happy you were wrong.

Notes: I’m happy to do this one for you!! And don’t worry about projecting onto Reader; you ARE Reader, after all! I hope I do your request justice!

(Reader will use They/She pronouns.)

(Not proof-read/beta-read.)

– – – – – – – – – – – –

You were pretty sure your boyfriend was just- completely done with you.

All of your streaming services were filled with different anime (Sailor Moon and Cardcapture Sakura being the one he notices the most), you made references that he didn’t understand, and every time you two had a movie night, it was something anime related.

You definitely thought he was done with you.

But you were (luckily) wrong.

Shadow started keeping mental tracks of the different anime you liked, and whichever anime you disliked.

It gave him the perfect amount of time to get you something for Christmas.

Frankly, he didn’t understand any of it, but Gaia forbid he gets you something mediocre for Christmas.

Right now, he was at the mall, searching every store he could find for any of your interests. He grumbled to himself, leaving the twelfth store that day, not having found anything.

Not wanting to give up, he checks the nearby map, and then…he spots it out of the corner of his eye.

A brightly-colored store (far too bright for his liking), showing multiple magical girl anime character cutouts outside it.

Bingo.

Shadow quickly heads over to the store, looking around for a moment before realizing something.

How much of this did you already have?

He thinks to himself, remembering that your collection was rather small due to your parents’ hate of anything related to anime.

Shadow starts grabbing a lot of different items from your favorite anime before going to the counter.

Flash-forward a few days, and it’s now Christmas.

The tree seems to have…far too many gifts under it. Not that you’re complaining.

“…Shadow,” You start.

“Yes?” He questions.

“I love you very much, and thank you for all of this, but where did you find this much stuff?”

“Why don’t you open them and find out?”

You shrug and give Shadow a kiss on the cheek, rummaging through the presents and picking one out at random, also picking out one of your presents for Shadow and handing it to him.

“Open yours first.” You suggest.

He nods, carefully tearing into the paper to reveal a hand-knitted sweater, colored a cherry red, that reads in blue letters, “MY FAVORITE BOO”.

“Did you…knit this yourself?” He asks, caressing the soft material of the sweater with his thumbs.

“I did.” You tell him, a smile on your face.

“It’s lovely,” Shadow says, returning your smile.

“I’m glad you like it,” you tell him.

You go ahead and tear into your gift to reveal a decently-sized, mint-condition Sailor Moon figurine.

You let out an excited squeal, peppering Shadow’s face with kisses.

“ThankyouthankyouTHANKYOU!” You yell excitedly.

Shadow lets out a chuckle, his face slightly turning green with your affection.

“There’s more where that came from, [Name],” he tells you.

The rest of the day is filled with you opening what was probably way too much anime merchandise, but neither you nor Shadow cared.

You were happy, and so was he. You couldn’t ask for anything else.

[papermint-airplane]

I swear I am my own worst enemy.

I'm trying to think of a title for my new story but the only thought that refuses to leave my head is stupid and overly edgy and everyone will laugh at me because people are used to lighter, more comedic things from me and coming out of nowhere with a really sincere kind of dark storyline might turn people off, especially if the title sounds like an "I'm 14 and this deep" kind if thing.

😑 But like. 😑 It fits really well, actually. 😑 But it's also lowkey a spoiler. 😑 But also it's very embarrassing. 😑

What do?

Simblr storytellers, how do you come up with titles for your stories? And are you ever concerned people will think the title is silly? Or gives too much away? I am genuinely asking for advice.

Also for the like 8 people who read Rogue Town and are wondering, I am NOT abandoning it. I am at kind of an impasse yet again because I overwhelmed myself with certain things in it and I'm kind of taking a break from it until it sparks joy again. That story will have a conclusion, but it's not going to be quick unfortunately. I have a lot of insane shit going on in my real life and it's got me feeling kind of less thrilled about a really colorful sci-fi story with cute aliens. Idk, it's still my baby and I don't ever want to abandon it, but I feel like if I don't work on something else with different characters right now, I'm going to go crazy. Aiden will return. I'm not giving up on it because no one reads it. You'd actually have to pay me a large amount to never work on it again because I genuinely love it so much. Also I'm not abandoning the silly over-the-top stuff completely, and for those concerned, the new story will also have comedy but I want to do some darker themes too. I have been working on a character with my friend and I've fallen in love with the turn he's taken from where I expected him to go so I just want others to see that side of me too, you know? I have a comedic flair that people seem to enjoy, but I like to mix it with other things, too, which I don't feel like I get to explore enough. I'm not going all grimdark on you, so don't worry. My drama tends to be melodrama anyway so there'll still be something to laugh at. 😅

[m-has-a-blog]

look, between any random man on the street and my dad i'd rather the rando. one of those people drugged me as a joke and it was NOT the rando

[mcybree]

Thoughts on 3rd life mirror birds. 3rd life big dogs. 3rd life property police. They fascinate me and I think you have thoughts on them but I might be wrong..either way

i do in fact have thoughts on them but i think if i talk about 3l!flower husbands publicly any more rn I’ll get so self conscious I’ll explode on the spot. this being said i have still yet to watch evo but its been on my list for forever bc of 3l!property police specifically… i really love martyns petty grudge against jimmy for those first two episodes he acts like he’s 12 and really pissed off on the playground. anyways i think that martyn going from being concerned for his friend to Just Fucking Lying to split up Scott and Jimmy, because he took personal offense to Jimmy being unwilling to drop everything to go live with him on the spot is the funniest thing in the world. Girl it’s not about you