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plasticfangtastic · 3 months

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Dairy Girl

A Homelander X F! Reader fanfic

A/N: I am still working on my other projects but I just wanted to write something fun and light to get me back into writing. I hope y'all enjoy this short little piece, btw i aint got no kids so i have very little idea how milk banks work, this will be a 2 or 3 part story.

Synopsis: In order to provide a constant supply of fresh breastmilk for Vought’s number one hero, Vought has had to get quite nifty in order to prevent this secret desire out the press and the public– you have unfortunately discovered the truth.

Tags: Stockholm Syndrome, abusive dynamic, Homelander being Homelander, dub-con, dark, mild smut, breastfeeding kink, kidnapping, child-death mention tw, cheating tw, set in s4 but canon nothing, slow burn.

Word Count: 3K

Part 1– Heifer

Such a small box, smaller than a shoe box, just big enough to fit its contents with enough space for his ghost to move. You stared at the small box as its buried in the family plot… you never thought of visiting this place to ever bury the last shred of happiness you had left, his body was born weak, so small you wonder if you’d given birth to a child or a chick, 2 months ago you had come home to find your now ex in bed with his ex, he had turned this betrayal on its head and blamed you for it, something about your lack of desire lately, about how your pregnancy had given him amounts of pressures he'd never agreed with, talking endlessly about his needs and how much you’d ignored him.

Whoever this man was, you didn’t recognize him.

Time blurred into nothing but disconnected colors and shapes, all you know was that the stress and anguish lead to this.

A box under soil.

Days passed and in your empty apartment, surrounded by all the stuff you bought you stood in front of the sink, throwing a bottle of fresh milk down the drain feeling tremendous guilt, the doctor said you would dry out soon enough but your breast had swollen so much your bras no longer fit– even the spare ones you bought just in case they’ve grown a size too big from what you expected, you booked an appointment with your doctor hoping they could give you whatever cocktail of drugs to dry you out and save you from the pressure and pain in your chest, it had been nothing but a passing message from a worried neighbor who had stop by to give you some mail that had been sent to them by accident when she mentioned her daughter-in-law had donated her excess milk after her little one refused to latch, she gave you the name of the charity and after much thinking you gave in, you lost your baby but there was some woman out there who could end up experiencing your same grief if their baby starved to death, yours simply born too small and weak to hold your finger for very long.

It felt good, you met the women running the charity and even some of the faces of the women you helped, as you delivered your frozen packs to the women’s clinic where the charity operated, it helped you heal, it gave your pain purpose, but as the months faded behind you a part of you worried about how much you keep producing, less than before but still too much, yet you keep going knowing it would end soon enough.

Perhaps somebody in the clinic or the charity had dropped your information to these people but you'd received some mail regarding some research trials Vought International was running and how they needed some donors to drop fresh samples, in their pamphlet they offered to pay a decent amount--your divorce had been costly plus having to move to a new place and breaking your previous lease had left your bank account quite dry, this was cheap money, you had given your milk for free, you looked at the few pouches you had collected for next week's drop you saw a wonderful opportunity to make some quick cash.

You went to the Vought Clinic and saw a few other women filling up forms, reading old magazines or dilly-dallying on their phones until some nurse called their numbers, you filled the medical form, waited less than half an hour before your number was called, brought into a small bleach scented room, the nurse read your form and told you she would take a blood sample, a doctor came in, reciting whatever script he’d been given about what this project was, giving you big words you had no interest in, this was about providing better milk formulas closer to natural milk than anything currently in the market apparently, thanking you for your donation, he looked at your form smiling as he saw your inked words.

“You're still producing 4 months after…” The doctor handed you a disinfecting wipe and a freshly steamed breast pump in a silver tray– we just need two samples, please press the alarm to let us know you’d finished, then follow Nurse Potts to the front counter to sort out your payment.”

It had been an awkward experience, but there you were 300 dollars richer, you probably should’ve read those papers a bit closer before signing but money was money and you were told to come back if you could.

You did it a couple times for 2 months, much like a man donating sperm for pocket money or plasma to pay the rent.

That was the first mistake, you headed home and woke up the morning after wishing you had stayed out for an extra hour or two, perhaps caved in to your friends pressures and tried going back to dating (after all your ex was whoring himself all across the lower east side without moral qualms) or hookups so you would had gone to a different address, maybe you should had taken a taxi instead of taking the train and walking home.

Regardless you woke in some strange empty room, the only thing beside your person was a pair of pale pink hospital gowns, grippy socks, clean underwear and a pair of thick large towels, you screamed and banged on the door for an ungodly amount of time but nobody ever came, you stayed alone in that room for what could have been 12 hours or more… maybe less… who knew it was all too much, suddenly a sharp sound cut into the silence a note had been slid under the door, you rushed to the note.

It was instructions, they wanted you wearing their clean clothes, you could not leave the room unless you did so, and as much as you hated the idea, you wanted to get out so badly, you knew if you wanted to escape your only chance came in knowing your surroundings, you begrudgingly and tearfully changed, waiting until anything changed– the doors hissed opened, a woman in a sharp cream coloured suit stood there with clipboard and an armed guard, at the sight of the heavy looking gun– you froze.

Then you took the first step towards hell.

You knew the following things: You lived in some basement area– there were no windows, only elevators. You weren’t alone, there were other women here and they made sure to keep your interactions at minimum no doubt to keep all of you submissive and not getting any ideas, sometimes familiar faces will fade and you could only speculate nightmares. Lastly… your purpose, the reason you were trapped here in the first place was… to lactate.

A plucky little thing that stayed optimistic despite your shared horror called herself a ‘Heifer’ she wasn’t wrong… you lived in a small cell where everything had sat on top of each other feed to keep fat and producing milk much like a cow, whoever developed this diet knew of all the ingredients known to help production, and you knew there were putting something else in the food for your breast begun to feel uncomfortable, for a little while you thought you could fight it by starving yourself, then two men with guns came into the room and told you to eat or else.

The time you spend outside this microflat hong-kong style cell was in the milking room and the shower room, you were ordered to stay clean and quiet, at least in the milking room you had some television and could spend time with the other women, but they keep you isolated, you could do very little, sometimes music would play and a book would be dropped with your food but your happiness wasn’t priority, you had to fill a quota.

After a couple weeks of this you simply accepted defeat, too many guns… not enough spaces to run, and nothing to come home to… a man that wanted to sue you for more feeling as if the judge had been unfair, a pestering family who acted as if they had been the only ones who experience loss, an empty cot you still hadn’t gotten rid off and piles and piles of bills, in this quiet cool room you had spend endless hours thinking, you didn’t love your job, you had been distant from most of your friends and you could only imagine that they assumed you had run away or killed yourself after what happened nobody could blame you.

Existing for the sake of existing until you could figure out what to do next.

“Good Evening… I’m glad you’re eating so well” The lady you met the first day said as the door hissed open, she watched you like a hawk as you process this sudden interruption, clutching at your paper thin blanket, you looked at the floral fabric in her arms and the clipboard under her arm– I need you to sign this before you’re allowed upstairs”

“Am I being let out?” You said anxiously, no way it could be that easy you thought.

The lady let her smile waiver, looking at the unseen guard then at her wrist watch as she handed you the clipboard.

“Your performance might determine how soon you'll be release…”

“You assume I won’t go to the police…”

“That wouldn’t be wise Miss L/N but we assure you that you’ll be sufficiently compensated for the inconvenience.”

You wanted to yell, but a voice in the back of your head thought of this but nothing but pageantry, you were dead either way, but perhaps this could be your opportunity to escape, whatever they wanted to do now meant being outside of these buried walls, you signed the sheet without thinking, briefly considered stabbing the bitch in the eye but is likely they would turn you into swiss cheese before you even took a step too close, she took the paperwork from your hands and in change handed you a long sleeved dressed straight out of the mormon section in target, she closed the door and you dressed up.

The halls looked so odd when you didn’t wear your prison clothes, the other few doors housed sleeping and bored girls, your plucky friend hidden behind one of them, the new girl hidden behind one of them and the girl you seen before in the milking room once hid behind one of them.

They took you to an elevator– it was old box, if you had to guess by the button’s design maybe built in the late or mid 70s, you never left their side until the elevator closed before them, the box moved slowly, a dingy silver box with low honey coloured lights, so dim… and you were alone, as the light chime as it went up you felt your entire being sink into your stomach, your heart beating so fast you were sure you were gonna have a heart attack before the doors opened once again, swallowing dry spit, your eyes opened so wide it hurt.

Quiet… it was so quiet when the doors opened, you expected something else, something menacing… something frightening– not an old house, an old house in the middle of some evergreen forest, everything screams old, untouched, museum like, like it's meant to present this idea that somebody lives here but not really, despite it being an elevator hidden behind a bookcase, you take a few cautious steps, your naked feet bury in the plush carpet, there’s bird singing outside and the sun is so bright and warm it hurts your eyes, the cool tones gone and this feels like a bad dream, pinching yourself but you’re awake, tragically awake, a weird wiry smile creeps on your lips, an almost laugh escapes your lips before you can feel tears burning your eyes.

“Hello…?” You ask and you don’t know why.

As you venture into the living room, hands firm against the tacky dark pink wallpaper, you found old floral couches that matched the drapes and despite how old school it was it had a charm to it.

Then you saw him.

Perusing the VHS collection filled the entire bookcase on the wall, just rows and rows of VHS boxes, some plastic and some cardboard, the TV boxy and just as antiquated but who cared— he was there.

You ran before you even realized you done it, crashing into him with desperation, tears staining your cheeks and you could barely breath as you tried so hard to speak.

“Homelander please help me!! I’ve been kidnapped!! Please!!” You cried, pulling on his suit– please!!”

Those endlessly blue eyes more poison dart hide than veronica flower bush the more they stared at you calmly, his lips into a thin smile and his hand thad taken your wrist inflicting just enough force to keep you firmly in his grip… to show you how he wasn’t an ordinary man, he looked at you as your tears changed meaning as if you were the most unfortunate creature he’d ever seen, his lips parted just enough to show those sharp canines that had looked so charming in sidewalk posters, now you could sense their presence squeezing at your jugular.

“You are so much prettier in person, Y/N.” His voice is disturbingly soft and calm, intimately quiet as he takes a whiff of your neck, moving you to make it easier, his free hand creeped towards your hip– I was so glad when I saw your picture and you weren’t hideous.”

Trembling against him, a nonexistent cold draft blew against you, your whole body shivering and covered in goosebumps.

His eyes fixated in your breast, mouth agape as his tongue dared to lick his lip, watching you like a starved man at a las vegas buffet, his hand slithering upwards, you know where this is leading, you can’t stop crying but you can’t scream either, you're just there as his hand avoids your breasts and creeps towards your back and presses your bodies together.

“I’m so glad you signed that sheet, I was getting sad endlessly waiting for one of you to agree to the deal” He says quietly, you stare at him and you realize you should’ve actually read that stupid sheet– why so scared? I ain’t gonna bite.” He bites the air as a joke and you could tell that that single bite could have torn your finger off cleanly.

His eyes shift to your clinging fingers that stayed so stiff against his padded suit, you stopped squeezing at him now they rested limp against him.

“Let’s watch a movie…”

It’s an awkward dance concluding in sitting down on a couch, its surprisingly soft and you’re sinking on the cushion while your mind dissolved in the sky, the coffee table had a humbled spread of snacks, pizza and milkshakes, not once did you notice, you stared at him clutching at your dress as he picked something out of the shelve, watching as his hand worked the VHS player, the clicks and whirling all you could focus on. He sat beside you as the speakers began to play the included trailers, he took the drink urging you to do the same with a menacing look, filling you with incomplete thoughts as you obeyed.

Malt vanilla marinated in your tongue, you had a terrible thought.

‘Milk’

You were there to provide milk… to whom? Why just milk? You thought they would sell your body or your organs, experiment on you but… they wanted your milk, but who was buying it? Who was drinking it? Where did it go? You stared at the pretty blond whose arm kept your shoulders still, you saw the news– you’d known he had a child and who knows with whom but his kid was old enough to not need it… was it for him? You thought… thinking of it as ridiculous until you remember how 20 minutes ago he was staring at your tits as if he was malnourished, you looked at his lips pursing as he took a long sip of his milkshake and wonder if that was milk… from a cow… not a heifer like you.

Homelander smiled at you.

“I don’t like ‘The mothman prophecy’ , never been a Richard Gere fan” he said casually.

“He was really good in ‘Pretty Woman’ . This one is okay…” You looked at the screen your voice so stiff– what’s going on…? Mr. Homelander… I…"

“Shhh… watch the movie” He leaned against you resting his head on your shoulder– you tasted the best… every batch perfection– such delicate custardy taste… So this is what we are gonna do… I’ll keep you in this floor so you’re not so bored ."

You swear he’s purring as he rubs himself against you marking you as much as he was making himself comfortable.

“There’s cameras everywhere… The glass is bulletproof, doors won’t open without a fob and code, and there’s no phones or internet, but if you do manage to get out of here just be aware I’ll know.” He said such terrible things as if it was nothing– if you tried to off yourself there will be 3 armed guards and nurses here in less than a minute but if you behave I promise you– you’ll be allowed out, but only if you gain my trust.” He looks up at you as you focus on those thin lips of his– there’s no kitchen but your meals will be delivered… if you want anything just tell the camera over there.”

He pointed at the corner tucked in between two VHS tapes was a small camera.

“I like you Y/N you're cute… you’ll behave for me, right?”

You nodded, too afraid to disagree.

“Now… let’s finish the movie… I actually like this part”

You stared at the pizza box, you could at least tell that the pizza was from an american restaurant, which made you feel safe ‘Select Pizza and Grill” said in the box and you knew you were somewhere in Pennsylvania, far from your apartment in Clinton Hill.

You looked at your boobs feeling his piercing gaze on them, you started drawing lines connecting weird things together, back when you were donating your milk, girls joked about people buying for medicinal and fetish purposes, this spelled itself out for you.

Maybe you could get out of here… but you had to do something weird… but as you heard the birds outside and the warm light peeked into the room, you realized maybe you could leave… no you’ll leave, you’ll go back home and you would find a way to ruin this man and those bastards beneath you, you’ll get them out too, so you took one courageous breath and forced a smile on your dried lips.

“You really liked it?”

“Huh?”

“My milk…” You mumbled– you know I never tasted it myself but am glad to get a review.”

“It’s really tasty” he bites his lip.

Your hand plays with one of the buttons on the dress.

“It hurts a bit… I usually get asked to pump around this time… dunno if you know this but it's a bit painful when they get this swollen.”

The look in his eyes told you everything you needed to know and as you leaned away from him pulling on buttons with slightly trembling fingers, you watched him follow your movements like a snake chasing prey.

“Would you help me out, mister superhero?” Is not flirty but is slightly playful and you’re surprised that you can lie that well, he’s so shameless as he shakes his head enthusiastically, mouth opening for you– please don’t bite.”

He gasps as you let him see all that he’d wanted from the get go, why he put you in that box, why you ended up in this place for.

His body was lighter than you thought as he sunk against you-- eyes closed, body limp against yours, he made the softest sounds it put you at ease somehow, for a moment you saw a very small being latched on your chest, you’d only experienced it once before, and it was seared into your mind as a painful yet tender memory, so you close your eyes dreaming of a fantasy far removed from this peculiar reality, half lid eyes found a man so blissed out your lips curved, this was unbelievable, the world most famous supe keeping you hostage just so you could indulged him.

But you knew now… that this was your way out.

#homelander #homelander x reader #personal #the boys fanfic #my fic tag #plz forgive my use of firecracker gif #this is not proofread i died like a dog if i must #homelander x fem!reader #the boys amazon

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thesimline · 1 year

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1400s WOMEN - PART 1

Following on from the simple modesty of the 1300s, female hair in the 1400s became a lot more elaborate thanks to the addition of hair pieces, ribbon and other decorations. Braided styles evolved into very detailed and decorative concoctions. Styles also became more flowy and romantic, often with curls framing the face. CC links under the cut.

You can find more of my historical content here:

1300s ✺ 1400s ✺ 1500s ✺ 1600s ✺ 1700s

1 - Larsa by Daylife Sims

2 - Beatrice by Simstrouble

3 - Shiro by Sim Lotus

4 - Camellia by Clumsy Alien

5 - Daenerys by Puderosims

6 - Hoppie by Simstrouble

7 - Emma by Buzzard's Bits and Bobs

8 - Ye Medieval Dragon Queen by Nilyn (TSR)

9 - Leonarda by Melancholy Maiden

10 - Cecilia by Buzzard's Bits and Bobs

11 - Braid Snood by Melancholy Maiden

12 - Ye Medieval Braided Updo by Daisy Sims (TSR)

13 - Masquerade by Tekri

14 - Pai Chan Braids by FYSims

15 - Hekate by Naunakht

16 - Zelda by Simandy

17 - Ye Medieval Margot by Shimydim (TSR)

18 - Sophia by G

19 - Serea Hair V1 by Redhead Sims

20 - Mari by Wasteland Whisperer

21 - Daenerys by Birksches

22 - Lucia by Melancholy Maiden

23 - TSM Hair for TS4 by S3 Sage

24 - Aspen by Oydis

25 - Braid Dream by Redhead Sims

26 - Double Braid by Wasteland Whisperer

27 - Pearls Set by Daylife Sims

28 - Mhysa by Quirky Introvert

29 - Ye Medieval Nezetta by Leah Lillith (TSR)

30 - Rapunzel by Tekri

With thanks to some amazing creators: @daylifesims @simstrouble @simlotus @clumsyalienn @puderosasims @buzzardly28 @tekri @simandy @redheadsims-cc @wastelandwhisperer @oydis @qicc

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inlovewithregencyera · 2 months

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My Fair Lady: Hungarian Noble Lady Set

Hi, lovelies it's been a while since I've posted cc, but nonetheless, I'm back and here I have a baroque/rococo-themed Hungarian Noble set for y'all.

The items in this set are textures taken from the wardrobes of Hungarian noblewomen. This one is from Countess Orsolya Esterhazy of Galantha. I'm sure some of you have seen some of her dresses before

The Esterhazy family was extremely rich and affluent, and one of their castles in Hungary was known as the 'Hungarian Versailles'. This style of dress (1650-1750) as seen above took heavy influence from Spanish culture, and Hungarian noblewomen were glad to wear this style of dress every day, not only for special court functions, but to show their status. Headdresses were symbols of family status, women wore decorated bonnets to cover their hair, and young, unmarried girls wore partas (which I have the meshes for but couldn't get to work properly).

Another texture is from the Hungarian Transylvanian era and is believed to be from the dress of Catherine of Brandenburg, who was elected Princess due to her marriage to Gabriel Bethlen.

Another dress texture is believed to have belonged to Baroness Dersffy Orsolya from around 1610.

Other textures included are from a 1750s Hungarian Court Gown, one worn by Countess Stephanie Majlath in 1867, a Gold and Green ladies' robe from the 1900s, and a pale green ladies' robe from the 1900s. I have pasted all of these though to a baroque/rococo style mesh as their textures suit them anyway.

I used mesh pieces from @acanthus-sims and @buzzardly28 for the dresses, courtesy of maya40 for her beautiful textures and for being so kind to provide me with information and history on her country.

In this set, you are getting 7 dresses (each ranging from about 13k-15k in polygons, sorry), 1 bonnet mesh from cynnix which was retextured by maya40 to match these dresses (multiple swatches), a 1660s bonnet with 3 swatches from maya40, 2 Hungarian veils retextured by maya40, mesh originally by cynnix, 1 baroque lace collar with 3 swatches found in glasses category (mesh by maya40, textures by me), and 1 Hungarian laced bonnet by maya40 with 3 swatches. All of this is BGC, and when downloading please read my TOU.

That was a lot so I'll add more pictures for visuals

Pictures of real Hungarian noblewomen from around this time:

As always, let me know if you have any issues! @mmfinds

DOWNLOAD

#sims 4 baroque #my cc #sims 4 rococo #rococo ts4 #rococo sims 4 #ts4 rococo #baroque ts4 #baroque sims 4 #hungarian cc #sims 4 hungarian #baroque cc #ts4 cc #historical cc #sims 4 cc #the sims cc #sims 4 historical #historical sims 4 #historical sims

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rafesfavbimbo · 1 month

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Hook. Line. Sinker.

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Glamour Model!Reader

Read Part 2 here

Moodboard for this chapter here.

Author’s Note: I could not get this idea out of my head since I sent it in to @bunnyrafe. So I decided to create my own little universe about it. Imagine playboy is still big and making magazines + social media post. (w/o all the dark history.) It’s canon reader has a boob job bc yk Playboy. But I made her non-descriptive as possible. Season 1 Rafe.

Tw: Stalking, Emotional Cheating (by Tooper), Objectification/Sexualization, slight non-descriptive smut, Canon-Rafe, eventual smut.

Rafe thanks whatever higher power decided to make sure he was at this exact location at this exact time. Almost feeling like he needs to thank God for guiding him here or some shit.

His curiosity peaked when he was driving down the one way road near the cut. His eyes going immediately to the ropes blocking off and a sign stating “Closed,” on one of the prettiest parts of the beach. Pfft, nothing’s ever private for the self-crowned King of Kildare. So Rafe does what comes natural to him; he inserts his nose in business that has nothing to do with him, with an arrogance that states it’s his right to know and parks his freshly-washed truck. Immediately sneaking under the ropes and walking a short distance until he sees something that for once in a long, long while. Leaves him struck.

He’s watching from afar as a crew sets up various reflectors. There’s slight chaos, people buzzing around and setting up. A photographer adjusting the lens on his camera. Women decked in casual clothing, going through a rack with various pieces of barely-there lingerie and bikinis.

But that’s not what catches Rafe’s attention.

It’s her.

There she’s sat in a pink directors chair. Her hair in a pretty blowout, flowing long behind her with the beach breeze. Her pretty legs peeking out from the white robe wrapped around her. Smooth and glowing, stretching down to pretty manicured toes. Makeup artist buzz around her, adding finishing touches to her flawless face, slathering gloss against plump, pouty lips and adjusting the tousled loose curls flowing around her gorgeous face.

Even from afar Rafe can see the long, wispy lashes adorning pretty eyes, staring up at the woman standing over her, brushing a makeup brush lightly over the smooth skin of her face.

He knows who she is, he knows exactly who she is. She’s been the figment in his imagination whenever he’s desperate and withering, stroking himself. Eyes shut tightly imagining her perfect figure withering under him or staring harshly at his phone screen at the skimpy photo she’s posing for.

He’d never in his life imagine he’d be standing right in front of his biggest fantasy. Albeit from afar, but so close. He feels like a creep, like a peeping tom lurking on what he knows is going to be another one of the various, scandalous shoots she’s so famous for. He can’t help it, even with all the chaos surrounding her he’s zoned in on her and her only.

When she stands up, the white fluffy robe falling erotically off her shoulder, exposing more of her smooth skin, it has him huffing deeply out of his nose. His eyes zoned in on her behind his wayfarers, hand slightly clenching.

It’s when she begins untying the lose knot on the straps of her robe that his him tensing up the most. The smooth skin of her back being revealed down to her pert, plump butt and slim thighs. He feels like he’s dreaming, almost like he wants to pinch himself to make sure he’s not dreaming. But the blaring heat of the sun, the sweat dripping down his tan forehead, making his shirt stick to his back and the painful ache of his stiffened cock brings him back to reality.

She hands the robe to the woman next to her, throwing her tousled curls behind her back. Her back is still facing him but when she turns around … that’s when Rafe really feels like he’s died and gone straight to erotic heaven. He runs his gaze down the entirety of the beach goddess standing right in front of him. His slightly clenched fist now turning white at the knuckles and blunt nails digging into his palm.

He runs his eyes over her perfect, incredibly busty perky tits and perfect upturned nipples. Down to her smooth, flat stomach which pinches in perfectly at the waist and rounds out to beautiful hips he wants to grip into and leave bruised. Her skin glowing, flawless. Slathered in some kind of oil or lotion, making her glisten exquisitely under the North Carolina sun.

But it’s when he sees the perfect V sat inbetween her slightly muscular, yet plush thighs that he lets out a deep heavy groan. The perfectly groomed landing strip waxed there teasing him and making him want to feel it tickle his nose as he buries his face into the most perfect cunt he’s seen in his life.

She’s looking down at her stomach, smoothing her pretty hands over it and then flipping her head back adjusting her hair with both hands, eyes closed. It’s like she knows he’s right there and like she’s putting on a show for him and he revels in it.

He watches as she turns back around and prances confidently forward, walking on the tips of her french-tipped toes slightly kicking the sand. Walking toward the shore and dipping her toes in it.

“Alright everybody! Let’s get this going!” Shouts the older man with frosted tips, dressed flamboyantly. An enthusiastic smile on his slightly wrinkled face.

Rafe watches as men on the crew adjust the reflectors, and he especially watches as his dream girl faces the crowd once behind her. And all he can wonder is how she can feel so comfortable standing so bare in front of so many people. Her hands coming to her pretty hips, cocking them to one side as she digs her french-tipped nails into her smooth-tanned skin.

Rafe gets closer and ducks behind one of the various palms trees hiding his tall figure, needing to get a closer look and hear whatever the fuck they’re talking about.

“Okay y/n, we’re gonna do a couple prints with the blowout and then a good few in the water with your hair slicked back. Sound good?” states, who he’s positive by now is, the photographer.

“Yeah. Sounds good.” she replies back, light and airy with a sweet giggle. Fuck, even though he can barely hear what’s going on just the cadence of the way she speaks sends his nerves into overdrive.

“Perfect.” chips the photographer, “Let’s get a roll on it while the sun is still out.”

Rafe stays there the entire time. The ache in his cock growing bigger, his chest tightened and body tense watching her maneuver herself into various poses. And in his sick mind he feels as if she’s posing for him, and him only. Teasing him with that perfect body and flawless face, seductively bending and prancing around as various clicks and murmurs of praise clamor near.

It’s when the sun starts bleeding into the ocean like lovers reuniting and leaving a warm orange haze across the beach as the photographer shouts “aaaanddd that’s a wrap!” that Rafe realizes he’s been there the entire time. His once neat and primped, plaid button up now soaked through with sweat.

“You did great! I think this is one of your best editorials yet! Absolutely stunning my dear, as always.” praises the flamboyant man as he embraces the now covered model, giving her a slight squeeze and she returns his affections with a warm smile on her face.

“It’s always the best time working with you Stephen, you make it great.” she quips genuinely. Pretty lips turning up on a sweet smile.

“Nonsense, you make my job easy being as perfect as you are. My star! Now get some rest, you’ve earned it. And maybe visit around the Island, I know you love places like this.” He pinches her smooth cheek endearingly.

“Maybe! We’ll see. Goodnight everyone thank you!”

Various voices shouting “goodnight y/n” and “be safe,” reply back. As if he would let anything happen to his precious gift, thinks Rafe.

The beach princess of his dreams now changed into a baby pink, ‘Juciy’ velour jumpsuit and light-brown uggs. Her drying hair clipped back in a light pink claw clip, walking her way up the designated path back to the main road.

Rafe jumps into action, making it back quickly to his truck and speeding out of there before anyone catches him. Debating if he should have followed her to make sure she got back to wherever she’s staying safely. But his cock was so hard it was almost painful. He needed to get home. Driving all the way with only one thought in his mind. Her.

That night, Rafe fist his cock till he can’t anymore under the shower head until the once hot water turns freezing cold. His eyes shut tightly replaying the events he’ll forever have ingrained into his mind, from earlier.

And once he finishes up and steps out of the shower, drying himself off and staring at himself in the mirror. He’s only got one thought in his head. His methodical brain going into overdrive with plots. That no matter what it takes, she’ll be his. Under his thumb, and he’ll never let her go. Ever.

“Did you hear who’s on the island? Everyone’s talking about it man.” quips Topper straightening himself quickly with excitement. The country club is lively, Kooks in every corner and constant murmurs of conversation all around.

“Hell yeah! I’ve been dying to see her, I want to know if she’s as sexy in real life as she is in pictures and on social media.” states Kelce, fully catching onto Topper’s direction of conversation with the same enthusiasm.

She is. Thinks Rafe, knowing exactly who they’re talking about. His stomach filling with that possessiveness he’s so well-known for. His eyes glaring at his friends behind his shades, who talk animatedly about you. He catches slight statements of “she’s the ultimate wet dream” and “i’d do anything for just one night,” as his ears ring with brewing rage.

Ha! He thinks. He’d bash their heads in before they even got near you. His perverted mind already convincing himself that you belong solely to him. And he’s not letting his grip loose.

“Aren’t you dating my sister, bro?” drawls Rafe in his deep, nasally cadence. His legs spread wide as he leans back confidently with his arms over the chairs handles. His demeanor threatening and protective. The boys assuming over Sarah, but in his mind it’s because they’re speaking about his woman.

“Yeah-I mean-c’mon man this is Y/N Y/LN we’re talking about. She’s like the ultimate sex symbol and besides she’s basically famous. We probably won’t see her, let a man drea-holy shit.” Topper’s eyes widen comically, staring straight behind Rafe as Kelce turns in the same direction, jaw dropping slightly and body sitting forward quickly. Eyes bulging in the same comedic manner as Topper.

Rafe’s brows furrow as he watches people in his line of vision all turn in the same direction, eyes of lust, shock, curiosity and even envy from the various men and women around. And when Rafe tilts his head to the side, eyeing whatever is behind him from his peripheral vision that has people, including his friends so starstruck, does he see the girl who’s been invading his mind since yesterday.

There she is. In the prettiest, skimpiest little off-white sundress. Her statuesque figure shown off by the scrap of clothing and contrasting perfectly against her skin-tone. Her skin is glowing just like it was yesterday, stunning legs on display and her pretty feet sitting beautifully in clear platform mules. Shiny hair pinned up in a messy up-do with wispy hairs framing her face beautifully. Big squared glasses perched on her perfect nose and a small smile on her luscious lips as she listens to- is that fucking Sarah?

People’s eyes follow his sister and his future woman as they make their way over to the table resided by the 3 boys. Men and women’s eyes lowering down to her backside and he can only imagine what they’re leering at if the shortness in the front of her dress is any indicator for the length in the back. All the attention quickly dividing elsewhere when Sarah reaches them and speaks up.

“Hey guys!” says his sister enthusiastically as she catches them in her line of sight, immediately reaching back and holding her hand out to guide you along with her. “This is y/n. I met her at the market.” Idiot, thinks Rafe. Why would Sarah think they’d need to be introduced to someone that even his own Dad, has admitted to finding attractive. Rafe shudders at the thought.

Both Kelce and Topper shoot straight up, hands sticking out cheerfully shouting out overlapping “Hi’s” wearing smiles so big it looks like their cheeks hurt. Idiots, thinks Rafe. Why would they make it so obvious? Especially Topper in front of Sarah?

“Hi…” the model says shyly, reaching her hand out and placing it delicately in Topper’s. Giving him a warm smile. “It’s so nice to meet you.”

“This is my boyfriend Topper, who by the way is a big fan!” says Sarah gives Topper a playful eye roll and smug smile, to which he bashfully looks to the side with a cough to clear his throat, cheeks reddening. “This is Kelce, and this,” Sarah turns to point “is my brother Rafe,” to a still-sitting Rafe. Who now rises slowly, shades hiding his pretty cobalt eyes. He stands to full height, towering over the 4 of you and inching a bit closer to you, taking off his glasses as he hangs them on the collar of his white polo.

When y/n turns to look at him, it’s like something struck in both of them. Rafe already felt someway, he stalked her all day yesterday for fucks-sake! But being near her is making his body and mind go haywire. He watches as she pulls her glasses off, exposing those pretty eyes and long wispy lashes. Perching them on her head.

When y/n looks at him though, her breath stops and she’s looking at him with a love-struck look that has Rafe smirking. Hook.

“Hello,” drawls Rafe, his voice deep and nasally, reaching his hand out, “nice to meet you.” He says with the same smug smirk sat on his pretty face. He watches as she places her delicate hand in his palm, beautiful eyes still stuck on him and now locking with his piercing ones. He brings her small hand up to his lips, holding eye contact and pressing a small kiss to her knuckles. Taking in the creamy, vanilla scent radiating off of her and smooth skin of her palm.

“Hiiii..” she whispers, airy voice as light as ever. Eyes still stuck on him in a daze and glazed over with… is that lust? Rafe convinces himself it is, and he’s almost sure it is. Only deepening his para social infatuation with her. “It’s nice to meet you ..Rafe.” He swears he can drop dead right there, hearing his name roll off her tongue in that pretty voice he imagined moaning into his ear all night.

“Ahem!” Sarah clears her throat inquisitively. Breaking the veil that lifted over the both of them for that single moment, like two lovers destined to meet. Topper and Kelce watching the interaction with wide eyes. “Well, now that you’ve got acquainted with a couple people around here and have pretty much seen all there is to this area, that’s interesting anyway. How about we go down to the Outer Ban-“

“No.” quips Rafe sternly. Voice firm. Leaving no room for argument with just a single word. His eyes cutting deeply into Sarah, whose face now scrunches with defensive attitude, “what is your problem?” she bites back.

The two boys still watching with wide eyes, but glancing over unabashedly at the model whose eyes are still focused on the man who’s got heat building between her thighs very quickly. And her heart pounding in her chest.

“You wanna take her to the Cut? Around those filthy fucking pogues?” bites back Rafe with the same animosity, inching forward threateningly as if daring Sarah. As if she ever gave a fuck what her brother thought. “Yeah.” she bites back firmly, “And what? She did a photoshoot there just last night.” Oh, I know. “She wants to see the area outside of working, besides I’m her tour guide and I promised to show her the whole island and that’s what I’m gonna do.” scoffs Sarah, rolling her eyes at her brother’s ingrained dominance.

“Nah. You’re not.” quips back Rafe, arrogance radiating off of his big and tall frame. “Nah, you know what. I’ll take it upon myself to show this sweet little princess around, if she wants to see the Cut or play in the water it’s better she’s with someone who can take care of her. Protect her from those fucking weirdos you like so much. Like me.” says Rafe with that smug smile on his face that Sarah wants to smack off 100% of the time. “Who do you even think you are-“

“So you wanna see the Outer Banks, beautiful? How about I show you around?” He cuts off Sarah, ignoring the anger radiating off of her as he turns his full attention to his proclaimed little princess. Who had been watching the whole time, struck by the sexy man who she now knows as Sarah’s brother and who’s got her inner thighs squeezing together and slick. His causal dominance over her, making her head hazy, and stomach flip.

Line.

Sarah, Topper and Kelce stand stunned by Rafe’s casual display of dominance but more-so by the fact that they can see that she liked it. A flirty giggle falling from her lips as she nods her head quickly. Leaning her body into him. Rafe smiles at the sweet sound, throwing his arm over her shoulders and turning his back to his sister and friends. Completely over-taking her attention and asserting his claim. She immediately nuzzles into his side, her arm wrapping around his waist and giving Rafe her undivided attention as she looks up at him with doe-eyes hanging onto every word that falls from his pretty pink lips.

“Yeah? You Like that?” He brings his other hand to pinch her chin, then giving it a slight knock with his index finger as he smirks down at her. “You stick with me and I’ll show you exactly everything you’ve been missing and whatever you want to see. I’ll take such good care of you, princess. Don’t worry.”

Sinker.

Read Part 2 here.

a/n: phew! he’s so dreamy ugh! I hope you all enjoy!

#rafe cameron #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron angst #outer banks #sarah cameron #rafe imagine #glamourmodel!reader

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endieinwonderland · 4 months

Text

Let The Light In: Part 1

Part 2 Part 3

Words: 1,448

Pairing: Paige Bueckers/Media Manager! Reader

Warnings: Angst, Friends to enemies (but the reader doesn’t know why they’re enemies), reader is actually so in the wrong, angst no comfort.

A/N: This is officially the second thing I’ve written, and it marks the beginning of the first series I’ve started. That being said, my ambition doesn’t necessarily match my skill set, so critiques are more than welcome. Thank you for bearing with me! 🙏 😭 ❤️

"Alright, ladies, let's get this show on the road! We need everyone to go to their assigned positions, please! If you've forgotten where you go, check the initials on the tape on the floor to find your spot. We’ll be around in five to remove it and to check the lighting," Charlie's voice booms through a megaphone, slicing through the bustling energy of the gym.

At her direction, people begin shuffling around at once. The UConn women’s basketball team quickly finds their spots, joking amongst themselves while you and the photography team works around them, trying to make everything perfect.

“Hey C, we need a light in the left corner!" you call out, your voice faltering as you notice a stubborn piece of tape left on the floor.

Rolling your eyes, you kneel to peel it off with a quick tug, adding it to the growing collection in your clenched fist, freezing only momentarily when you see the bold ‘P.B.’ written across it.

‘Shit.’

You swivel on your heel, turning away from the woman in front of you before standing and scurrying back to the safety of your monitor.

“All good?” Charlie nudges your shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah, all good. We should probably get started.”

She nods, picking up the megaphone again. “Okay, thank you everyone for your patience. We’re all ready! Let’s start with some smiles, okay?” You attach your camera to the tripod before looking back at the monitor. “1..2..3, and get ready for flashes please!” You shout, clicking the shutter button a few times, turning to look at the pictures as they upload to the large screen in front of you.

A few murmurs of "looks good" echo as others look over your shoulder, but something feels off.

Noticing your hesitation, Charlie walks over and looks at the screen before speaking up. “Hey, number 5, can you twist a bit to your left, please? You’re turning away from the group.”

Recognizing the issue immediately, she calls out to Paige, who keeps her eyes fixed on Charlie as she moves, avoiding your gaze.

“Better?” Asks Charlie.

“Better.”

You return to the camera, taking a few more shots, occasionally shouting out instructions for different facial expressions until you get a thumbs-up from your boss, signaling it’s time to move on to individual shots.

“Okay, starting with last names in alphabetical order, can we please get Ms. Bueckers out first?”

Seeing her name was one thing, but hearing it is an entirely different story. You can’t suppress your reaction this time, your breath catching in your throat.

You hear her before you see her, steps echoing through the gym before standing in front of you for the first time in a year, completely emotionless as she stares directly into the camera, startling you with the indirect eye contact as you look through the lens.

“What are we going for?” she asks, turning to Charlie, completely ignoring your presence.

“Let’s start out serious, and we’ll move on from there?” You can barely hear Charlie’s directions over the ringing in your ears.

‘You’re a professional, be professional.’

You steel yourself before turning to Paige. “Give me a game day face,” she doesn’t look at you when you speak, instead choosing to continue to stare down the camera as if it's committed some personal offense against her. She crosses her arms, drawing her lips into a tight line as you click the shutter a few times.

You’re working on autopilot, taking shot after shot when something stops you, something's wrong. You look up to see Paige's gaze set on you now. The intensity of her stare unnerving, and you almost feel guilty for having captured it.

Your hesitation and the absence of your shutter clicking doesn’t go unnoticed. A hand taps your shoulder, startling you. Your boss, Leo, is behind you, softly shaking his head.

“Hey, you can stop. We can’t use these.” You turn to Paige, then back to Leo, a shocked “Why not?” leaving your mouth before you can stop it.

He sighs as he wraps an arm around your shoulder. “Come look at them with me, please,” he motions, guiding you back to the monitor.

You clickon the last picture you took and turn back to Leo. “I mean, the lighting's fine, focus is good, I don’t get what’s the matter with it.”

He says nothing in response, instead just leaning over to zoom in on Paige’s face, or rather her eyes which are swimming in unshed tears.

“We can’t use these,” he repeats lowly before turning away from you.

“Can we get a few shots with Ms. Brady, please?”

You turn back to where Paige had been standing, but she’s no longer there; you barely catch sight of her exiting the gym, Caroline and Azzi hot on her tail.

“What’s her deal?” Charlie mutters, standing at your side again. Tearing your attention away from the gym doors.

“Hell if I know,” you reply with a shrug, feigning nonchalance before walking back to your camera and turning to face Ice.

“We'll start with a few dribbling shots if that's okay with you?”

The media team quickly snaps back into action, and within six hours, almost everything is done, setting what might genuinely be a new media day record.

Exhausted, you slump down onto the bleachers, hoping to close your eyes for a few moments. But Leo’s hand tapping on your shoulder interrupts you for the second time today .

"We need to have a chat," he says, giving you a stern look. Nodding, you rise to follow your boss back to the monitor where a new picture of Paige is displayed.

"Listen, I'm not sure what the deal was with the first set of pictures you shot, or if her reaction had anything to do with you at all," You open your mouth to defend yourself when he raises his hand to stop you. "No, I don’t need to know if something happened between you two, I just need to know if you think she’d be okay with you trying again, because please look at these." He points to the monitor; the pictures aren't bad per se but they are—for lack of a better phrase—lifeless.

Her posing feels forced and the angles aren’t her best. You’ve taken enough photos of her to know what works, and the man photographing her now, Will, simply hasn't captured her effectively.

"We need to be professionals and make sure all the players are comfortable at all times, so I want you to really think about it," Leo finishes before stepping away, leaving you alone at the monitor, staring as new pictures of the blonde appear on the screen, each one worse than the last.

"Charlie!" you call out, waiting for her to approach.

"What do you think of these?"

She glances at the photos and shrugs, "I love Will, but you could do better."

"Leo thinks I should try again."

She tries, but fails to hide her surprise, "Are you sure Paige would be okay with that?"

Shrugging, you reply "I don't see why not; we didn't have a falling out, she just stopped talking to me."

After a pause, you add, "But I will speak to Will first to see if we can fix this without me behind the camera."

Charlie nods and goes to fetch Will, who is at your side in moments, eager to leave his camera -or rather, eager to leave Paige.

“You should be taking these," he insists before lowing his voice to a whisper, "She's tough to work with."

At this, you have to suppress a laugh; you know Paige’s capabilities well, she knew how to work a camera, it almost is impossible to take a bad picture of her.

"Have you tried letting her move during the shoot? Start with serious expressions; she starts goofing around after 15 minutes, and you'll miss the good shots. Then again, she'll probably be more professional with you than she was with me."

Will rolls his eyes, "I've tried everything." He motions back to his camera, “You should just give it another go."

After a brief motivational speech from Charlie and Will you resign yourself, approaching the camera once more.

“Is it okay if I try?” you find yourself asking softly, speaking to Paige properly for the first time in months.

She stares at you like a deer caught in headlights before quickly composing herself. A weak “yeah” is the only response you get, and it’s enough for you to feel comfortable quickly re-adjusting the camera and taking the first successful picture of Paige today.

She responds to you instantly, a forced grin quickly spreads across her face as you give a thumbs up, signaling for her to change poses. You both quickly fall into your old routine.

15 minutes in, you're constantly adjusting Will’s camera as she moves around, dribbling a ball, crossing her arms, and giving the camera a fierce look, then grinning ear to ear, her movements well-rehearsed from years of experience in front of your lens.

You only stop when an excited “We got it, guys!” is heard over the sounds of your shutter.

Leo, turns the monitor towards you where what might end up being one of the best pictures you’ve ever taken of her is displayed on the bright screen.

Before you can stop yourself, you’ve turned towards Paige, a proud smile stretched across your face. “Good job!”

A brief nod is all you get in response before she mutters a quick “thanks” in your direction.

The rest of the media team receives much more sincere thank yous, and she exits the gym quickly, leaving you alone to wonder the same question that always plagues you after seeing her: ‘What the hell happened to us?’

#paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers #paige buckets #uconn wbb #wcbb #wcbb x reader #wlw #paige bueckers angst #uconn huskies #paige bueckers fanfiction #paige bueckers headcannons #fanfic #angst #wbb

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samkerrworshipper · 8 months

Text

initiation | barca femeni x reader

part 2 -> part 1

warnings: pure smut and filth

this is not made for anybody under the age of 18, you are responsible for your own digital consumption.

Lucy opens the door without any hesitation, and almost as soon as she does the silence is broken by the sounds of a series of gasps and moans.

It bounces off of the walls surrounding you, and you jolt a little bit when it finally makes it to your eardrums.

“Lucia, te tomaste tu tiempo.” Lucy, took your time

Lucy steps into the room, and it gives you your first view of what’s happening.

“Buenos Noches.”

Keira’s hand grabs onto your own, pulling you into the room with her.

Your eyes flash around at a hundred miles an hour, taking in all of your surroundings.

It’s a oddly set up space, which makes you think that it’s been preorganised specifically for this. It’s a overly open living space, a kitchen to the left as you walk in, but the rest of the living room is completely empty besides massive couches that really are the size of beds.

The lounge room is massive, but the big couches and seats surround the space.

It’s not the couches that actually capture your attention though, it’s all of the women on them.

Everybody is in different stages of undress, and doing different things, it takes a few seconds for you to absorb.

Then, you spot an actual bed sitting about ten metres in front of the couch, pushed up against a wall.

It’s a big bed, but the size of the bed definitely isn’t what captures your attention.

It’s whats happening on it, which is enough to make your eyes almost fall out of their sockets.

There are three people on it, people you quickly recognise as Mapi, Aitana and Ingrid.

Aitana is crammed between the two women, Ingrid’s behind her and Mapi in front.

Mapi’s mouth is directly on her clit, whilst Ingrid is fucking her soundly and roughly from behind.

You feel rude for staring but you also can’t manage to tear your eyes away from the view directly in front of you.

It’s the definition of erotic, watching as Aitana’s mouth goldfishes open and closed as the two women work away at her happily.

“Hola carino, come over here.”

It takes you a nudge from Keira to realise that Alexia is talking to you.

The captain is sitting on a couch, alone besides the fact that Jenni is on her knees in front of her licking gently at her.

Besides from that Alexia still has a bra on, a fairly simple but beautiful black lace piece that looks perfect against her tanned skin.

With a push from Keira you walk over to her, unsure how to approach.

She opens up her arms to you though, and you carefully, without disrupting Jenni climb into her lap, resting on top of one of her ridiculously muscular thighs.

It gives you a perfect view at what is happening below you, but you can’t help but let your eyes wander.

Keira and Lucy have already joined Pina and Patri in the corner of one of the couches, the two had been lazily making out but upon the appearance of the other couple they’ve now begun to kiss each other, with pina now grinding down on Lucy’s lap and Keira below a Patri who has straddled her and has her mouth on her neck and chest.

On the other side of the couch, Ona, the other newbie who you know from Man U is in the arms of Caro, Marta and Frido, who are all touching her in different places. Ona looks completely blissed out, something you hope to feel soon.

After you are done observing everybody else, your eyes naturally fall back to the bed, where Ingrid and Mapi are still going at it with Aitana, who looks like she’s on a completely different planet to everybody else.

“You like what you see, bebita?”

You absentmindedly nod at Alexia, your lip between your teeth as you continue to keep your eyes on the two women.

“Y’know, I’m sure Ingrid and Mapi would be happy to give you the same treatment, they like to reward pretty girls like yourself for being so good.”

The praise has you weak from below the knees, your tense body slowly relaxing against Alexia’s.

“Really?”

You’re well aware that you’ve been told multiple times that people are interested in having fun with you, but that doesn’t mean you find it easy to accept.

“Oh si, ellas están muy desesperadas por ti.” oh yes, they are very desperate for you

You understand that Spanish well enough, even if you don’t know the words. The way it falls from Alexia’s tongue is enough of an indicator.

“How about Jenni and I get you nice and ready for them then?”

You look down at jenni, she’s taken a break from Alexia to look up at you, a big smile on her face, which is glistening with what you assume to be Alexia’s juices.

“O-Okay.”

Alexia beams at you, her smile big and bright as she fiddles with the material of your sweater in between her fingers.

“Let’s take this off, hmm?”

You nod shyly at Alexia, everything about this whole situation is completely different to your previous experiences, and it’s not that you don’t like it but you can’t deny the fact that it’s making you feel a little bit anxious.

Alexia begins to tug the jumper up, over your stomach and then over your head.

You feel exposed, and your hands gravitate up to cover the skin almost immediately, but Alexia’s own hands grab at your wrists, pulling them down to rest at your waist, before you can protest Alexia’s lips are on your neck, biting at the exposed skin around your bra.

“So pretty carino, red is definitely your colour.”

Her praise makes your hands relax, allowing her to manhandle you on her lap so you are resting directly on her hips, your legs parted on top of hers.

“Is it okay if Jenni takes off your pants, carino?”

You nod your head, looking down at Jenni as her hands hook into the waistband of your sweats and begging to gently tug them down your legs, you lift your hips up for her, allowing her to slip them off with ease and reveal the matching lace panties underneath.

Jenni groans, and it makes you feel a little bit more confident, as the Spaniard looks at you like you are a meal to be eaten.

Once your pants are off and resting on the floor somewhere, she parts your legs properly, so they are hanging off of Alexia’s, leaving you exposed to the room.

Subconsciously, you are aware that there are eyes on you, but it doesn’t really set in for you because all of your attention is on Jenni, watching as she gently begins to litter kisses up the insides of your thighs.

It elicits a series of dirty noises to fall from your mouth, breathy groans as Alexia continues to nip at your neck and collar bone whilst Jenni worships the skin between your thighs.

“P-please.”

Your voice is quiet, quiet enough amongst all of the noise in the room that you aren’t sure whether you’re heard.

“What do you want carino?”

You groan as Alexia’s lips move further up your neck, somehow, even from behind you she manages to get the perfect angle, her neck craning around your own to peck at the sensitive skin.

“P-please.”

You’re brain is short circuiting, all you can do is look down at Jenni with complete disbelief as her lips nibble at the edges of your panties.

“You’re going to have to use your words carino, otherwise how are we supposed to know what you want?”

Alexia’s voice is teasing, a little bit mocking as her hands work their way up and down your hips, scratching up and down the skin, over and over again, every once and a while randomly they will stray up to your bra, drawing little circles around the underwire and lace trim.

“Jenni, please, more.”

Your words are murmured, your confidence still low as you work up the courage to ask for exactly what you want.

“More of this?”

Jenni moves her lips further down your legs, closer to your knee, earning her a sigh of annoyance from you and a big shake of your head.

“I’m going to need you to be more specific then, bebita.”

Jenni is quite frankly, in your opinion, the picture of desire.

Resting on her knees, her feet tucked underneath her thighs, legs spread, juices dripping down her chin and a big wolfish smile on her face.

It’s an out of body experience in itself just to look at her, but to feel her own desire to please you, it’s something else completely.

“Jenni, please, anything just touch my pussy.”

You don’t like top use vulgar language, but you know that there isn’t going to be any way to get her to do what you want without asking for it directly, so you do.

You are granted immediate validation, Jenni’s hands reaching up from her sides to the waistband of your panties, tugging them down at a speed that even you don’t even realise that they are off until Jenni’s lips are pressed directly against your heat.

The feeling ignites something in you, Jenni, doesn’t miss a beat, her mouth applying a pressure to you clit that in your opinion is absolutely perfect.

She knows what she’s doing, she reads your body like it’s an open book, parting your lips and folds apart with her tongue.

You’re a moaning mess, your hips thrusting on top of Alexia’s as Jenni eats you out like you are her last meal, savouring every single part of you, parts you weren’t even sure existed being worshipped.

You’re to much of a mess to even realise Alexia’s unclipped your bra, until her lips are on your nipples, her two hands resting on your belly, just above Jenni’s head.

It’s so amny sensations, so many fireworks bursting all over your body with every touch, nip and lick. You understand now what Alexia had said, about all of this being an atmospheric experience, about the magic of being in a room full of women who are experiencing just as much pleasure as you are, it’s a whole other energy you’ve ever experienced.

You’ve played at a a Euro’s, you’ve played at a full Wembley, and yet it wouldn’t come anywhere near this, in any form of excitement or pleasure.

Jenni is a expert with her mouth, alternating between sucking at your clit with so much pressure that your eyes roll into the back of your head, and flicking her tongue in and out of your hole, slurping up any new juices that are coming from it.

“G-god feels so good.”

Jenni seems to take the praise as even more of an incentive, the pressure applied to your clit somehow increasing, making you thrust directly into her. Alexia’s grip on your stomach and hips is strong, holding you down directly against her but you can’t stop the movements.

“How good does she feel carino? Is she getting you all ready for Ingrid’s cock?”

Your eyes stray from Jenni, up to the bed, where Ingrid is still pounding into an almost lifeless Aitana, who looks so blissed out that you wonder if she’s even remotely on the same planet as any of you anymore.

“S-so good.”

Your words are stuttered out between moans, your mouth hanging wide open as you continue to watch Ingrid, Aitana is bobbing up and down with every single thrust, her body almost ragdolling, the only thing holding her up behind Mapi, who has her hands securely on her hips, her fingers rubbing big circles over Aitana’s clit.

Ingrid looks wild, her hair all splayed out and sweaty, sticking to her face and neck, not that she seems to mind, all of her focus is on Aitana and the dildo that is connecting their two bodies.

“Are you going to cum for us carino? Going to cum all over Jenni’s face? Be a good girl and cum for me.”

You don’t even really notice that you are on the edge until Alexia’s reminding you, and suddenly you feel it all wash over you, the coil in your stomach snug and tight as Jenni focuses on your clit, applying pressure with her tongue and moving it in deep, tight circles.

“G-gonna cum, please can I cum?”

Alexia’s lips focus on your nipples, one of her hands reaching up from your hips to pinch the other one.

“Such good manners, go ahead carino.”

In synchronisation, Alexia pinches your nipple just hard enough for the pain to turn into pure pleasure and Jenni sucks down on your clit so hard that you see stars.

The mixed sensations have your body thrashing, Alexia’s hands being the only thing to stop you from falling off of her lap.

It’s unlike any other orgasm you’ve ever experienced, everything heightens for a few seconds, and then it all comes crashing down, your body going limp and shaking, your toes curling and feet arching as Jenni pulls all of the aftershocks from your body with her mouth.

Her focused sucking turns into big licks, from your clit down to your hole, parting everything as she runs over and over the same stripe.

It doesn’t take you long to recover, your body slowly becoming more aware of its surroundings as Alexia’s lips and Jenni’s mouth slowly bring you back down to earth.

You’re over sensitive, so you begin to tug your hands from Alexia, reaching down to gently push Jenni’s face away from you, well aware that if she keeps going you’ll be forced into a premature orgasm that will be nowhere near as pleasurable as one that’s properly built up.

Jenni coos at you from down below, if you weren’t floating on a happy cloud then you’d probably find it a little bit condescending, which is a big juxtaposition considering that she’s on her knees below you.

“How was that, carino? Jenni is quite skilled with her mouth, if she could she’d spend every day of her life on her knees for a pretty girl like you.”

You want to say that Jenni most likely does spend a lot of her time on her knees for a pretty girl like Alexia, but the compliment is lost on your tongue.

“So good, thank you Jenni, I’m here any time you want.”

Everything is back into focus, and suddenly you feel overly shy, but also with all the endorphins rushing through you it’s hard to control your words until they are spilling out of your lips.

Alexia chuckles and Jenni just grins up at you, her hands resting on either side of your thighs whilst her mouth is blowing hot air directly onto you, it’s a nice sensation, less stimulating but still something.

“You are very welcome, bebita, I’ll definitely take you up on that in the future some time.”

You look over your shoulder at Alexia, who is just grinning at you.

“I don’t mind sharing, carino.”

You suddenly feel extremely shy, your head tucking itself into Alexia’s neck as you feel both the couples eyes on you.

“Is that not something that you’d want bebita, you don’t want to have some more fun with Jenni or I in the future?”

You shake your head into Alexia’s skin, it’s certainly something that you want, but it feels awkward asking for it, especially with the both of them staring intently at you.

“I need a verbal answer, carino.”

Alexia’s voice is a little bit taunting, she knows what she’s doing, trying to get a reaction out of you, and you play directly into it.

“If you guys wanted it, I’d be happy too.”

Alexia tugs your head out of her shoulder, just for her lips to hit yours as soon as they meet daylight. It’s a dominating kiss, Alexia taking over without any fight from you, it’s less sweet and soft to Keira and Lucy’s kiss, but the intention is all the same.

“Now, how about you go and put on a show for me, Ingrid, Mapi and Aitana are ready for you.”

You pull your lips from Alexia’s looking back over to the bed.

It’s a different scene to previously, Aitana is sat up the very top of the bed, pressed up against the headboards and pillows, her legs spread eagle whilst Ingrid and Mapi are sitting at the bottom of the bed, lazily making out. Aitana’s eyes are starry and glazed, she looks orgasm drunk, completely inebriated with whatever pleasure she’s experiencing.

“María, I have a present for you.”

Alexia gently pushes you out of her lap, your body stumbling towards the other couple as you adjust to the different sensation of walking. Your legs are wobbly per say, more so that your head feels a lot heavier on top of your body.

Mapi and Ingrid break apart, just in time for you to stagger your way in front of the mattress.

“Hola.”

You nod your head meekly at Mapi, it’s your first time meeting her, and the both of you are butt ass naked in a room full of women fucking.

Lucy has Pina bouncing up and down on her lap, whilst Patri has Keira sitting on the couch, one of her knees strung over Patri’s shoulder as she slowly but deeply fucks her, the couples are making out with each other diagonally across each others body. It’s something that you’d see in a porno, not in real life, and yet there they are, a couple of metres to the side of you. Whereas Ona is being stuffed to the brim, her pussy filled with a vibrator, ass stuffed with Caros fingers and mouth filled with Marta’s strap whilst Frido is softly grinding herself up and down Onas toned stomach. You can’t see her face, but you can picture it in your head, her face titled to a side, mouth filled with dick, her eyes full of ecstasy as she experiences all the different sensations, her own slobber dripping down her chin.

Mapi reaches out for you, guiding your eyes to her own.

“Tan bonita, did Jenni treat you well?”

You nod your head, unsure how to put what you just felt into words.

“She’s good with her mouth, the best way to shut that one up is to put her on her knees.”

You gulp, definitely unsure what to say to that, Mapi is smirking cavalierly, like she’s somehow getting off on your awkwardness.

“María, play nice, or else you won’t be getting your reward.”

Mapi almost immediately shrinks backwards, suddenly your attention is captured by Ingrid, the Norwegian woman’s voice is commanding and you can’t for the life of you ignore it.

“You’re quite a cute little thing aren’t you?”

Ingrid’s voice towards you is very different to how she’d been talking to Mapi, it’s gone up a few octaves, much softer, like she’s talking to a stray cat or a little kid.

“Mm not cute.”

Your words are gruff, more like you are trying to convince yourself not Ingrid, she breaks out into a big smile.

“Oh of course not, you’ve just got a cute little face and a cute little frown and cute little shaky legs.”

You feel your skin flush red, you feel like you’re under a microscope in front of her.

“Oh honey, don’t take it so seriously, I'm just teasing you, take it as a compliment, I find you very cute.”

You bite down on your lip, shivering when Ingrid’s hand comes up to your shoulder resting gently on it.

“Look at Tana, isn’t she so pretty all fucked out? You’d look so pretty like that, your body all spent from being stuffed full, do you want that? Want me and Mapi to fill you up all nice and full?”

You nod your head eagerly, Ingrid is still strapped up and fuck is it the most bewildering sight you’ve ever seen, she towers over you, literally looking like a goddess.

“Yes, please.”

Ingrid smiles at you, a big toothy smile, her thumb rubbing skilled circles into your shoulder muscles as she looks down at you.

“Such good manners, Lucia and Keira must have taught you so well. How about you hop up on the bed and show Tana what your mouth can do?”

You practically jump onto the bed, crawling your way up to the top, slowly clawing your way closer to the naked body in front of you.

Aitana is quite literally dripping, her thighs and the sheets below her soaked in what must be the multiple orgasms she’s already had.

Her body is completely limp, the only proof that she's alive is her chest rising up and down slowly. Little puffs of breath that leave her mouth every few seconds, like she’s trying to regain her composure but it’s a losing battle.

“Go ahead, amor.”

You look over your shoulder to Ingrid, who is nodding encouragingly at you.

You don’t want to disappoint her, so you swiftly turn your head back around, gazing down at the pussy sitting right in front of you.

Aitana’s clit is puffy and sticking out of its hood, a clear sign that she must be pretty sensitive, so to

begin with you sticking to the edges of her folds, gently running your flattened out tongue along the sides.

Her cum and arousal is a salty sweet taste, one that’s addicting and tastes exceptional on your tongue. When she moans, you jolt a little bit, surprised by the evidence that she is in fact alive and not completely passed out on the bed.

It eggs you on a bit, enough for you to move your tongue down to her hole and lick up the pool of arousal and cum from her previous orgasms.

Aitana’s arm's reach down to your scalp tugging at your hair gently, pulling you further into her and you let her.

It’s just as you begin to nudge your nose against her clit and probe her hole with your tongue that you feel a finger enter your own pussy.

Your back arches almost immediately, you’d felt the want in your stomach but having it finally be catered to is exceptional.

Ingrid’s finger is long and slender, and after a few slow strokes you are desperate for more.

You know they are Ingrid’s fingers, because in the very short amount of time that you’ve spent with your head in between Aitana’s legs, Mapi has managed to make her way up to the bed and straddle Aitana’s face, the Spaniard already rocking up and down the Ballon D’or winners face.

“More, please.”

Your words are hushed and mellowed out against Aitana’s sex, but Ingrid must hear them because on the next thrust she adds another finger.

It’s a little bit more of a stretch, but your body accommodates it with ease, Ingrid’s fingers slowly opening you up with every thrust of her fingers.

Aitana’s hands stay laced in your hair, tugging you up to her clit.

Her moans are now silenced by Mapi’s pussy, but the way her legs tremble on either side of your head and the way her hips cant up randomly every once in a while.

When ingrid leans over, breathing hot air directly into your ear, it makes your spine shiver.

“You want my cock baby girl? Want me to fuck you hard from behind? Make you scream my name into Tana’s pussy?”

You nod your head vigorously, your head nudging Aitana’s clit making her hips thrust up into your face.

“You make her cum and I’ll fuck you, how does that sound?”

It sounds like music to your ears, and as soon as the words have left Ingrid’s mouth you are diving into Aitana’s sex, sucking down on her clit.

She screams out, loud enough that it’s heard underneath Mapi’s pussy, chances are that she is very overstimulated and over sensitive and the sudden pressure is probably sending shock waves up and across her body.

You don’t give up though, to focused on your own impending pleasure, which is practically at a stand still with Ingrid’s fingers leisurely thrusting short and shallow into you.

It doesn’t take long for Aitana to get to the edge, you can tell because the shaking in her legs turns to spasms and they clench down on the sheets, as soon as this happens you bite down on her clit, not hard, but enough for it to be enough pressure for her legs to completely seize up.

As soon as it happens, Ingrid’s fingers disappear from your cunt and are replaced by the silicone cock slowly beginning to slide into you.

If you were a religious woman, you’d call whatever it was you were experiencing a godly encounter.

Ingrid didn’t waste any time, once she’d bottomed out in you with out any protests from you, she started to slowly fuck in and out of you.

You busied yourself with licking up the aftermath of Aitana’s orgasm, she was on a whole other level of over stimulation though, and you didn’t push it when she forced your head away from her thighs.

Instead Ingrid took a hold of your hair, pulling you up onto all fours as she began to thrust in and out of you at a faster pace.

“How does it feel being filled up with my cock amorcito? How does it feel to be my little cock slut, just another hole for me to use?”

Ingrid’s words are feral, and they only spur you on no further, your hips pushing back to meet her at every single thrust.

It’s inexplicably the most intense but perfect thing you’ve experienced in a while. Ingrid's hands on your waist are soft, but her words and thrusts are so rough, it’s a perfect balance between the two.

“I-Ingrid, please, faster.”

Your words are forced out between thrusts and moans, your mouth trying to articulate your desperation without it turning into a mess of sounds.

“Does my little cock slut want it harder? María, do you think she deserves it harder?”

You look up at Mapi, the Spaniard is lent up against the headboard, but she turns around to take a good look at you.

“I don’t know, is she being a good girl, or a bad girl like Onita over there?”

Your eyebrows raise up your forehead, and before you can even ask Ingrid is swivelling your body around, so you are met face to face with the sight of Ona, who is bent over the sofa, still stuffed with toys, whilst Alexia is spanking her with what looks to be a riding crop of some sort.

“This is what happens when you cum without permission, maldita puta.”

You cringe into yourself when the sound of the whip connecting with Ona’s skin rings out, the sound is almost immediately followed up with a moan, you aren’t sure whether it’s one of pain or pleasure, but the way that Ona’s hips push back to meet the leather tells you that she definitely doesn’t hate it.

“You’re good right bebita? You wouldn’t disobey me would you?”

You shake your head vigorously, the last thing on your mind right now is disobeying. You can be a brat, in certain circumstances, but in a room full of people who literally bleed confidence you're a little bit more cautious of your actions.

“She’s too much of a people pleaser to disobey, isn’t that right little one?”

It’s Lucy’s cocky voice from the couch that pulls Ingrid’s and your attention.

“Is that right? So how would you feel then if I switched to fucking Tana?”

Subconsciously, you know that if Aitana is far to gone for Ingrid to even try to fuck, but your dicked up brain does not know that and it is completely terrified of Ingrid pulling through with what she’s just said to you.

“Please no, please i’ll be good, please keep fucking me.”

You hear Ingrid snicker from behind you, all you can do is watch on as Ona continues to be brutally spanked by Alexia, Ona being a more than content participant.

“Ingrid, be nice, she’s so young and new, we need to test out her stamina.”

You pivot your head to look at Mapi, who is no longer sitting on Aitana’s face, instead, she is sucking marks into Ingrid’s neck whilst the Norwegian continues to fuck you at a slow but steady pace.

“Mm, she has been good so far, how about we see just how much you can take?”

Your brain doesn’t fully articulate what Ingrid is saying, until a wet solid comes up against your asshole.

It takes you a few seconds to realise that there is a finger, pressed straight up against it.

You flinch away from the contact, but Ingrid’s hands hold you still and keep you from moving away from it.

“Has anyone fucked you back here before, hermosa?”

You shake your head deftly at Mapi’s voice, gulping as she gently begins to push her finger inside.

“Joder, a little virgin? It’s going to be so fun opening you up, I’ll be nice and gentle, just focus on Ingrid.”

You nod your head, taking a deep breath and focusing on the feeling of Ingrid’s hips slamming up against your ass cheeks with every single thrust of her hips.

As Ingrid thrusts, Mapi slowly begins to work a finger into you.

It’s a weird kind of stretch, but it doesn’t hurt, and you are so focused on pleasing the couple that you hardly notice it. To caught up in the sight of Onas fate and desperately trying to avoid it. Punishment, can be fun, but tonight you want pleasure, you crave it with every single cell in your body and your positive that if you don’t achieve it then you’ll be broken.

Before you even realise, Mapi is easily slipping one of her fingers into you, and once she’s certain that there is no longer a stretch, she begins to work a second finger in.

This definitely gets your attention, having two different people penetrating you is something you’ve never experienced before, at first it hurts and is weirdly tender, but as time goes on, you slowly begin to fade into a mellow state of pleasure, a cloud of happiness and ecstasy.

The duo of the two forms is fantastic, and you find yourself in the edge once Mapi is easily sliding her two fingers in and out of you.

“I-Ingrid please, I’ll be good, let me cum, please.”

Your almost whining, the sight of Ona, being held open, her pussy and ass both stuffed with vibrators whilst Alexia spanks her clit, is something else entirely and it’s making you even more aroused.

“How do María’s fingers feeling bonita? How does it feel to be stretched out around two people?”

Your answer is strung together quickly, the desperation for your release only heightening.

“So fucking good, please, let me cum for both of you.”

Ingrid’s thrust suddenly become far more frantic, her hips canting upwards, the strap rubbing directly against your g-spot.

“Cum for us bebita.”

As soon as the words leave Ingrid’s mouth you are coming undone.

Your whole body goes limp, your body completely inebriated with pleasure as Ingrid continues to fuck you through the after shocks.

Mapi pulls out, instead moving to begin gently rubbing at your back and whispering reassurances in your ear.

“Such a good girl, so perfect for us.”

When you start to come down, Ingrid slowly slips out, leaving you legless and boneless in front of them on the bed.

Before you can say anything, Mapi is turning you over and cleaning you up with her mouth.

After the two orgasms everything is far more sensitive, but you’re still recovering and don’t have the energy to stop her even if you wanted to.

You lie on the bed, Mapi eating you out, Ingrid gently massaging the inside of your thighs until from somewhere across the room, a voice tells out to them.

“Maria, bring her over here.”

Mapi’s mouth leaves your sex and much to your displeasure, she lifts you up and sits you down on the edge of the bed.

Your head is still spinning a little bit, but after a few seconds in the vertical position you manage to stop your surroundings from doing somersaults in your head.

“Carino, come over here.”

Alexia is sat on the couch, legs wide open, Ona sitting on her knees in front of one of her legs.

Mapi helps you to hoist yourself up off the bed, your legs are definitely shaky but you manage to make your way over to the captain without any major struggle.

When you do, she gently direct you to her thigh, helping you to straddle the muscular skin.

“See Ona, this is what good girls get, good girls get to get themselves off on me, whereas bad girls just have to sit and watch.”

You look down at Ona, shocked by the little red lashes across her ass and how willing she is to partake in whatever this is.

“You can move carino, be a good girl and get off on my thigh.”

Before you can do anything, Alexia’s hands are at your hips, gently helping you to begin rocking against her.

It’s a completely different sensation, and it takes you a few seconds to figure out the exact way to run up against the flexed muscles to hit your clit in the right place, but once you do it feels impeccable.

“Such a good girl, not like our Ona who just can’t seem to behave, you would never disobey, would you?”

You shake your head at Alexia, your mouth wide open as you moan happily on her thigh, rutting up and down it with absolutely no care for your partner on the floor.

“Alexia?”

Alexia’s eyes are on Ona, but as soon as the words leave your mouth, her attention falls back to you, her eyes wide in question.

“Yes carino?”

You continue to rub yourself up and down, chasing another high like the two previous.

“Can I please cum?”

Your not quite on the edge, but a few more hits of Alexia’s quads flexing up against your clit and you might very well be.

“Of course carino, you’re our good girl, such a perfect girl, go ahead. Ona, watch as our good carino gets exactly what she wants because she’s been a good girl.”

Suddenly Alexia completely flexes her muscles, and as you’d predicted after a few good thrusts into her thigh, your coming undone, your body collapsing into Alexia’s chest as you moan happily and cum all over her thigh.

Alexia lifts you up, gently placing you down on the couch beside her before ordering Ona to clean up her thigh and then refocusing back onto you.

Alexia waits until your just about to come down, before she pulls out a little bullet vibe and presses it directly to you clit.

The sound of you screaming out is music to her ears, and she doesn’t let up on the pressure at all, watching as your legs spasm and thrash from the overstimulation.

Before you can say anything, you’re being forced into another orgasm. It’s not as good as the other ones, less satisfaction over the work that you’d done to get to it, and it hurts like a bitch, but it’s the final straw for your body.

Your whole body completely goes limp, similar to Aitana on the bed who is now being cleaned up by the couple and force fed a protein bar and water.

Alexia brings you to her side, letting you rest in the cranny in her neck.

You’re happy there, her skin is warm and familiar and you feel more protected with your head in her shoulder then you do with it exposed to the outside world, so you stay there until Lucy and Keira come over to collect you.

Lucy manhandles you to somewhere, a bedroom maybe but your head is so high up in the clouds you aren’t sure of anything.

You just know that you are comfy and very happy in the arms of Keira on the bed.

“You did so good honey, so proud of you, so very perfect you were.”

Keira’s praise doesn’t really register in your mind, but the kindness behind her words does and that’s enough to put your mind to rest.

Lucy takes her time in cleaning you up, running a washcloth between your thighs and gently massaging at any cramps or locked muscles in your body.

Once she’s done, she joins you and Keira in bed, the two cradling you between them.

In the morning, or whenever you wake up, they’ll tell you how proud they are, how brilliant you were and how next time they’ll just keep you all for themselves instead of sharing you around. Alexia will try and claim you as her own, her love for you stemming a lot deeper now at the connection that’s been formed.

One things for sure, this will definitely not be your last escapade with the barca girls.

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reiderwriter · 1 year

Text

Hating You Is The Easiest Thing I Can Do

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Summary: When your boss pulls your case out from under you and gives it right to the BAU, you're pissed. You're even more pissed when Doctor Spencer Reid suggests you can't do your job properly. After a week in his company, you decide to give him a piece of your mind

Warnings: Day One of Kinktober - Hate Sex, enemies to lovers, dom/sub, Mean!Dom!Spencer, Brat!Reader, spanking, degradation, spanking, spit kink, sir kink, vaginal fingering, slight creampie, Reader's boss is an asshole, typical office misogyny. Spencer is also an asshole, but that's just because he's a dumbass.

A/N: Special thank you to @reidmotif and @mrs-dr-reid for proofreading this one for me! I wrote this when on a major Pride and Prejudice moment, which is why there's a whole lot of plot before the sex. I hope you like the build-up just as much as the smut! <3 If you like it, don't forget to leave a like, reply, or reblog and tell me your thoughts! ((just as a reminder, apart for Sundays and Tuesdays, I'll be posting all the kinktober fics on AO3 exclusively, so check out my writing there - reiderwriter))

My requests are also back open now, so if you like my writing and have an idea, check out my request guidelines and drop me a message in my inbox! You can find the rest of my masterlist here :)

To say you were angry was an understatement. You were seething, the anger bubbling up inside of you and threatening to lash out at anyone who so much as crossed your path as you made your way down the crappy motel corridor. You'd only known Spencer Reid a week, but you could think of no one you despised more.

The FBI had always been a boys' club, you knew that. There were some goddamn strong women in your field office, of course, but you were outnumbered 10 to 1. Which was why you were so determined to do well on the first case assigned to you as lead Agent. The first week of the case, you'd made sure you were thorough. A body had been found in the park by a jogger, and you darted to the crime scene the moment you got the call. A woman in her early twenties, like you, had been raped, tortured, and then dumped here, her body posed in a demeaning way to make it seem as if she were performing a sexual act. Your entire body shuddered at the sight, but you couldn't let your coworkers see you weak so you powered through. Collecting evidence, getting an ID on the victim, interviewing potential witnesses, and yes, even breaking the news to the poor girl's family, you had been so attentive to every detail of the case and you felt you were making progress, your boss delivered a humbling blow.

"Another body has been discovered. I've invited the Behavioural Analysis Unit in from Quantico because you're in over your head." He'd told you, not even looking up at you from the file he was reading on his desk.

"What? I wasn't told about another body, why wasn't I notified?"

"I didn't think you needed to know, now that the BAU is coming in."

"So I'm off the case? That's it?"

"No, I want you to assist them in their investigation. Tell them everything you've gathered so far, get them situated in the office as best you can."

"Get them coffee when they want it? Rub their feet if they ask for it? This is bullshit, I was making progress, if you'd only have given me more time-"

"Agent, I suggest you walk out of this office right now and get your PMSing under control before I have to suspend you from fieldwork." You pressed your nails further into the beds on your palms then and bit back your tongue from replying, simply giving a terse nod and exiting the office.

It wasn't even an hour later before the new team arrived, and you offered a tense smile and welcome as you got them set up in their own office. The Unit Chief didn't seem too bad, but Aaron Hotchner couldn't exactly be described as the most welcoming of people, and you felt an instant camaraderie with JJ, the other agent who'd come into the office with him. There were more agents apparently, but they'd gone out into the field to check out the new victim and reinterview the family, something you weren't exactly happy about. But, if you were going to be their little bitch for the next week, you were at least thankful they were tolerable and polite.

"So here's everything I've got so far. I've been pretty thorough in my interrogations of potential witnesses, and there are no CCTV cameras in the general vicinity of the dump sites, so I don't think you'll find anything else there that'll aid in your profile."

" If you'd have been thorough you'd have found this though, right?" A new voice popped up from the door, and you felt yourself tense up under the sudden accusation. Looking up you saw he was holding up his phone, a picture of a strange marking on a tree lighting up the screen.

"Excuse me?"

"This was left on a tree roughly thirty feet from the first dump site. I called Rossi and Morgan and they found a similar marking near the second victim. It's a Mesopotamian symbol relating to the worship of prostitutes and sex workers to promote fertility." He spoke plainly, but all you could hear was the condescension in his tone, and your blood boiled with rage.

" Agent Y/L/N, I'm sorry about him, this is Doctor Spencer Reid, he's another member of our team." JJ introduced the man, sending him a warning glance, as if letting him know that he hadn't just put his foot in his mouth directly.

You looked at the man then, really focusing on him now instead of the pictures, and almost cursed out loud again. He was a jerk, but fuck was he attractive. Tousled hair, dark eyes, and a perfectly sculpted jaw, it was as if he were sent from hell directly to piss you off and tempt you. You pushed the attraction aside for the minute then, choosing to be the bigger person and introduce yourself.

"I'm Agent Y/N Y/L/N. And I'm sorry that I'm not an expert on Mesopotamian prostitutes, but I guess that's probably your specialty, right, Doctor?" You held out your hand for him to shake, but he just looked down at it.

"If you're referring to my doctorate, I actually didn't study classic civilizations. I hold PhDs in Math, Chemistry, and Engineering and additional BAs in Psychology, Philosophy, and Sociology. And I don't do handshakes." He glanced straight past you after that, walking back over to Hotch and filling him in on other things you must've overlooked during your brief time working the case.

You glared at his back, finally letting your hand drop to your side again as you let out an angry chuckle.

"Don't take it personally, Spencer is just… He’s He's not great with people. He'll warm up to you." JJ put a reassuring arm on your shoulder and you nodded. But inside you knew there was not one thing the man could do to reverse the bad opinion of him you'd just gained.

–X–

After the initial anger of having the case seeped out from beneath you wore off, you actually began enjoying your time with the BAU. You hadn't put much thought into profiling before, it usually being so far off your radar while you were working in the field office but you were actually coming to enjoy how they worked, and you'd learned a lot.

Your relationship with Spencer, however, only degraded.

Your hatred had reignited the moment you'd been joined by the rest of the BAU Team. Your boss has finally come down to greet them, and, almost as if making you pay for your earlier comments, had genuinely sent you on a coffee run for them. You could deal with the fact that the man had the most annoyingly complicated coffee order you'd ever heard of in the Bureau, but what you couldn't forgive were the sly comments you walked in on when you returned.

"Come on, Reid. That Agent is easy on the eyes, you should talk to her, get you a slice of that." You'd been introduced to Derek Morgan earlier and you'd instantly pegged him as a flirt, so this wasn't exactly shocking to you. What was a bit surprising was the other man's reply.

"If she's attractive I hadn't noticed. I've been too busy trying to clear up her mess with this case."

You walked in the door then, coffees in hand, and slammed his drink down on the table for him. You handed Morgan to him, double-checking that you'd got both of their orders right before shooting another glare at the man and walking away to find the rest of the team.

But not before hearing Morgan chastise Reid in another whisper: "God man, you gotta be nicer to the kid…"

To say that your working relationship had soured totally after your two personal encounters with the man was simply an untruth. You didn't have a working relationship, you had a working rivalry.

From then on, you'd slyly interrupt the man when he was speaking, telling him to cut his genius rambles in half, that you didn't have all day to sit around and wait for him to stutter his way through his theory while there was a murderer on the loose.

He didn't hold back either, constantly asking you questions he knew you didn't know the answers to, just to smile slyly down at you and make you admit that you weren't as good as him. It was getting so detrimental to the office atmosphere that you had to be genuinely separated after only three days, Hotchner bringing you into the field with him on multiple occasions and forcing Reid to stay behind with JJ to work on a geographical profile.

You'd been with Hotchner at a family interview, working with him to gain details of the second victim's actions and whereabouts leading up to her murder to establish a timeline when you got a call.

Excusing yourself from the room, you quickly picked up the call.

"This is Agent Y/L/N."

"Hotch isn't picking up his phone." That was all the explanation you got from the man on the other side of the phone, his voice instantly grating.

"Yes, I'd assume he isn't, Doctor Reid, because we are currently interviewing a bereaved mother and father and he put his phone on silent. Is there something you need?"

"I need to talk to Hotch."

"Well, you called me. What do you need?" You heard him breathe out a frustrated sigh on the other side of the line, and you rolled your eyes, slightly enjoying being this stubborn and getting under his skin.

"Just tell him we're ready to give the profile, okay?" He hung on you after that and you cursed him down the line, receiving nothing back but the empty beeps of the dial tone.

–X–

It didn't take long after delivering the profile to get your guy, but as he hadn't been in the middle of committing any felonies when you picked him up, you'd had to spend a few days in the interrogation rooms.

Hotch had taken a crack at him and gotten nowhere, and so had Rossi and Emily and Morgan. JJ had been the one to make the arrest, so she went in last and still came out with nothing much. He hadn't layered up yet, as they'd suspected he wouldn't, too egotistical to allow anyone else into the room that he thought he was going to talk himself out of.

"We're getting nowhere with this, Hotch. I think I have an idea that could get him to start talking." Reid said as you all stared at the man through the one-way glass.

"What, you think you can charge in there and get him to talk?" It was petty, but it'd been a stressful week, and he was used to this flow of conversation between the two of you.

"No, you are. Hotch, she fits his type, she's attractive, same build and coloring as the previous two victims. I think it'd work." You scoffed at his suggestion.

"Oh so now you think I'm attractive? I thought you hadn't noticed because you were, what, too busy cleaning up my mess?" You crossed your arms as he gave you an incredulous look, and you realized that he didn't think you'd heard him.

"Spencer's right, Y/N." Hotch nodded, looking between the two of you to see if he needed to pull you apart to keep you from fighting or to keep you from jumping each other. You personally weren't sure which you'd like most at that point, cursing yourself as you let your eyes trail down his body.

"It's going to excite him having you so close, you should pop a few of those buttons, too," Reid suggested looking down at your chest as you scoffed and crossed your arms.

"Oh you'd really like that," you mumbled under your breath, but a swift look from Hotch had you shutting your mouth again as he began to brief you.

Going in you felt a surge of pettiness seep through you. You were going to nail this guy, get him to talk about every little nasty thing he did to those girls, and prove to your boss that you could do this when every member of the BAU had tried and failed. But a small, dim, and annoying reminder at the back of your head whispered in your ear that you'd be pleasing Spencer then as well. Proving him right. You weren't sure if you wanted to succeed to hear him or your boss say "good job" to you after you finally succeeded, but when you imagined it with him, he was a whole lot closer, right in your ear, body pressed against yours.

You focused on your anger over your attraction and pushed into the room, ready to stare down a monster and escape unharmed.

–X–

It had worked, of course. It had taken a few hours of building rapport but you'd done it. You'd had him eating out the palm of your hand while he confessed to the three murders you knew about and an extra four that you didn't.

A day of retrieving bodies later and by 10 pm, the case was finally closed.

"Well done, kid, you really got him in that interview. That was some great work." Morgan nudged your elbow as he grabbed his duffle, exiting the makeshift office.

"Don't forget we're getting drinks at the cocktail bar in half an hour. Shower off that mud and change into a hot dress, Agent, and I'll buy you your first shot." Emily called back to you from the exit too, leaving you in a fit of giggles as you promised her you would.

Once they'd all gone, you started packing up your things ready to leave yourself when there was another knock at the door.

" Hey, I need to grab my bag." Reid stood in the door awkwardly, and your smile dropped into a politely neutral face as you nodded to him.

"Don't let me stop you, Doc."

"Spencer."He said, stepping a bit closer to you.

"What?"

"I want you to call me Spencer. You keep calling me Doctor or Doc, I want you to call me Spencer."

"No. Doctor Reid is just fine for me."

"And what if I want more?" He grabbed your wrist as you turned to go, using a bit too much force and leaving you stumbling into him, hitting his chest as you looked up at him, your noses almost touching with the proximity.

"Let me go," you growled, but his grip loosened and you didn't move an inch.

"What if I want more?" He asked again, a little more insistent this time, his eyes dark in the dim room, expression unreadable.

"Why should I care what you want, Doctor Reid?"

"Because I think you want it, too. Because I think that despite all the odds, you want me just as much as I want you."

Your anger burst out of you in a sarcastic laugh then at his presumptuous words.

"Despite all the odds? What odds are those Spencer? You treat me like shit, ignoring me, refusing to even shake my hand, and downplaying the hard fucking work I put in before you got here? God, you are so fucking narcissistic." You finally stepped away from him then, turning away to regain your composure.

"Me? I'm not the one who missed some vital fucking evidence in a murder investigation, Y/N, so I'm sorry I wasn't the most welcoming person, but God if we're talking egos, you should probably check yourself."

"Forget it, you're impossible. I really tried to be nice to you, but more fool me for making messes you had to clean up."

"Are you still stuck on that? Y/N, I'm sorry, but Derek just has a way of-" He stepped closer to you again and you could feel the oxygen being sucked from your lungs.

"Don't you dare blame this on Morgan. You're attracted to me and you fucking despise that, and it's none of Morgan’s fault. Now please, just get out of this fucking office and go back to your motel room." You practically hissed those last words at him, holding back the urge to scream in frustration. Your lips were so close now, as his chest heaved, hands clenched by his sides as he resisted the urge to grab you.

"Forgive me… for suggesting something so obviously repulsive to you." With that, he brushed past you and walked out, leaving you reeling at his almost confession, head light from the lack of air. He'd taken your breath with him as he left the room.

–X–

The promise of free shots had convinced you to get back out to the bar as promised, not letting Reid and his fickle moods control when and where you'd be enjoying yourself.

You finally showed up at the bar and were greeted by hugs from JJ and Emily, already one drink in as they immediately handed you a shot from the bar. Guiding you back to the table, you paused as you saw him there.

Morgan was sat at the table, happily chatting away with Reid, who'd since grown quiet, eyes meeting yours before leaving to rake down your frame. You resisted the urge to cover yourself, confidently standing tall as he devoured you with his eyes. Changing out of your work clothes, you'd decided that you needed some fun tonight, donning a short red dress, barely hitting the tops of your thighs, hugging your curves tightly, and pushing your chest up so it nearly spilled out completely. You'd completed the look with thigh-high black boots and a red lip, looking the absolute image of lust - or anger - personified.

"Whew mama, you look good, Y/N." Morgan greeted you, standing up to give you a kiss on the cheek. Reid still said nothing but kept his eyes trained on you as he took another sip of his drink.

"I was promised shots and dancing, I think I'm dressed pretty appropriately don't you think?" You smiled and giggled up at Morgan, letting your touch linger on him a little longer to see if it would spur Reid into action.

"Have I ever told you about my very good friend Penelope Garcia? I think you two would get along just fine."

The rest of the night continued in a similar vein. You'd stepped out onto the dance floor with Emily and JJ, letting whatever man wanted to sidle up close, begging one of them to be a distraction from the man whose eyes were boring into you from the other side of the room. It didn't work. Their hands were on your hips, guiding you to the sound of the music but in your head, all you saw was him, doing the same.

It didn't help that he was getting hit on constantly from his perch beside Morgan, and you watched with a bitter feeling at the bottom of your stomach as women tried, unsuccessfully, to get him to pay attention to them. After another frustrating invitation for a tryst with a local man, you excused yourself from the dance floor, finding Morgan in the bar, letting him know that you were calling it a night.

"Where's Reid?" You asked, trying and failing to sound casual as you glanced around the now crowded bar for signs of him.

"He left like ten minutes ago. Said he was tired and went back to the motel."

"Was he…" You didn't want to finish the question, not knowing which answer you'd prefer, but Morgan filled in the gaps himself with a wide grin.

"Alone? Yes, kid. Here, it's the address of the motel we're staying at and his room number." You hesitated before grabbing the paper and grabbing your stuff, practically running from the bar and hopping in the nearest taxi.

–X–

That's how you found yourself stomping down the corridor of the motel, pounding on his door at 1 a.m., unashamed in your brazen actions. He opened the door, slightly shocked to see you there, and you pushed your way inside and turned on him as you shut the door.

"What the fuck was all of that?" You demanded as soon as he turned back to you. His shirt was open now, jacket and tie discarded on the floor somewhere deeper into the room, but you forced yourself to look up into his eyes, away from the pale plains of his skin.

"What was what, Y/N?"

"You, staring at me like that the whole night and then just leaving."

"Did you want me to stay?"

"I want you to stop answering my questions with questions, Reid. This is bullshit, you can't act like a dick to me all week and then look at me like I'm a piece of meat you want to rip apart, for fucks sake."

"You made it very clear earlier tonight that you wanted no part of this, Y/N. Are you saying I should've done something else?"

"That's another fucking question, Spencer! If you don't start actually talking to me, I swear to god, I'll-" You ran a hand through your hair, and when you looked up again, he was closer than ever. You backed up into the wall, but he followed you, pressing a leg between your own. Slowly and with that condescending grin plastered across his face, he drawled out his next words.

"You'll what?"

Your lips crashed against his with the fury of your frustrations, a mess of teeth and tongue and biting anger as you surged forward into him.

With a rough push of your hips, he slammed you back into the wall, taking charge of the situation, coaxing his tongue into your mouth, battling you for control, and winning. Grabbing you by the neck he slowly pulled his lips away from yours, leaving you gasping for breath.

"Don't be such a brat, Y/N. When I ask you questions, it's because I want answers." You moaned as you tried to regain his lips, but he chuckled and kept you pinned.

"Tell me, baby, what should I have done earlier instead? Got down on my knees to beg your forgiveness, or thrown you over that desk and used you like a cheap little whore? I think I know which one you prefer."

You moaned at his words, but kept your mouth twisted in a grimace, choosing not to answer. He got tired of waiting, and, with a swiftness you didn't know he possessed, twisted you around so your hands were planted against the wall, your chest pushing against it too as he pulled your hips up and out, effectively baring your pantie-clad pussy to him as your dress pushed up and over your ass all by itself.

"So fucking slutty. You let all those men in that club touch you while you stared at me the entire time." He ran his hands across your ass massaging you underneath your underwear before pulling his hands away again and grabbing your hips. He pushed his clothed cock against you from behind and you moaned at how hard and big he felt already.

"Was this what you wanted, brat?"

"Go fuck yourself."

"I think you'd much prefer it if I fucked you, don't you think?" He turned you around again, lifting one of your legs up to wrap around him, the new angle pressing your core further into his cock.

"Open your mouth, now." Against your better judgment, your body reacted to him quickly, your tongue dropping out of your mouth as he ground his cock into your core, effectively dry-humping you. With a swift motion, he spat in your mouth, your eyes going wide as you instinctively shut your mouth and swallowed.

"Good girl," he stroked your hair, lifting you up and carrying you to the bed. His lips locked with yours as you tasted his spit on your lips, letting him take control and move you in any way he pleased.

"But you've been a brat," he said pulling away. "And brats need to be punished."

With that he forced you over his knee, pulling your panties down as he positioned your hips higher, your ass raised. He fisted one hand into your hair and began softly stroking your ass with the other.

"You're going to count for me, baby. If you lose count, we'll start again. With each number, I'll tell you what you did wrong, okay?"

"Fuck, yes, yes sir." With another soft touch, he pulled his hand up and bought it back again down sharply, letting it cup your ass as you hissed from the sting.

"O-One."

"That was for being a brat in the office. Being so confident you missed some vital evidence that was staring you right in the face."

He did it again, and you squirmed under his touch.

"Two."

"That was for teasing me in front of Hotch. Making me get hard right there in the office before you went to interrogate that creep."

"That made you hard?" You gasped out as he cracked out another slap to your ass. "Three."

"That was for talking. You need to stop fucking talking." He stroked your ass again, delivering a fourth, fifth, and sixth blow in quick succession as you felt yourself leak your arousal all over his lap.

"That was for dressing like a little whore tonight. That was for flirting with Morgan. That was for letting another man touch you. What do you have to say for yourself now, brat?" Your breaths stuttered out of you as you tried to compose yourself, confident that he'd finished your punishment now.

"G-Go…. FuckFuck yourself." He growled and threw you back on the bed, ripping your dress off over your head and letting his lips return to yours as he trailed his hand to between your legs, finally pushing two fingers inside of you as you moaned and writhed beneath him.

" I hate you," you moaned in his ear as his lips trailed down to your breasts.

"You have a funny way of showing it." Your orgasm was rapidly approaching, so close you could practically taste it. He sensed it as well, though, and pulled his fingers out of you before you could reach that bliss.

"You thought it would be that easy, brat?" he whispered in your ear with a low chuckle before flipping you over to your front and thrusting his fingers back into you from behind, causing another moan to rip from your throat, uncontrollably loud in the otherwise silence of the motel at night.

Unzipping his pants and freeing his cock, you felt the weight of it on your ass as he rubbed his precum against your now bright red asscheeks.

"You're going to look so pretty with my cum decorating your ass baby. It's going to make your ass feel better, too."

"You're disgusting," you spit at him, but your hips push harder into his dick, trying desperately to capture him inside of you and force him to use you.

"No more talking, bitch. Take my fingers." He pushed a hand into your mouth and you started twirling your tongue around them, using your distraction to finally violently thrust his dick all the way inside you. You screamed at the sudden filling, cumming around his cock in an instant, trying to milk him for all he was worth. But he clamped a hand down over your mouth so that all that fell from your face was escaped tears and muffled pleas for more.

"Gonna use you like this baby, gonna make you admit you love me."

His thrusts gained a steady pace as your brain emptied beneath him, desperate for more of the pleasure his body was supplying you with. He released your mouth then, content that all your energy seemed to be spent on pushing your ass back into his, listening to the wet, sloppy sounds of your activity.

"Do you like that, brat? You like me making you feel like this, huh?" He slapped your ass again as he thrust, and you moaned back with a nod.

"Yes, Spencer, don't stop… Don't stop." You moaned again, another orgasm rolling over your body, causing you to clench unconsciously around his cock.

"So good baby, you're responding so well to my cock." He trailed a hand underneath you to your clit and started rubbing it in time to his thrusts.

"One more for me. One more and I'll pull out, okay? Just one more."

"I can't, Spencer I can't do it.." You whined underneath him, face fully buried in the motel pillows. You were surprised he even heard you through the tears as the material.

"Yes you can, baby, look you're so close already, just do one more."

"I hate you," you moaned again, feeling your third and final orgasm wash over you, your eyes rolling back in your head as your body started twitching and didn't stop. You felt a small twitch from him too, as he finished thrusting inside of you, letting a little bit of his cum escape into you before pulling out and decorating your ass with his ejaculation.

He fell by the side of you and gasped desperately for a few minutes, before grabbing a hot wet towel from the bathroom and cleaning your ass off.

"Spencer…" you croak out eventually, regaining some clarity, but still not moving much from your spot in his bed.

"Spencer, I don't hate you."

"I know. I don't hate you either. Which is probably for the best."

"What? Why?"

"Hotch just requested your transfer to the Quantico Office so you could start training with the BAU. You did a good job this week, Y/N." Your eyes started watering again and you gently pushed away tears as he laughed at you, asking why you were crying.

"I'm not happy," you joked.

"I just realized that means I have to work with you more." You both laughed at that. You didn't hate each other exactly, but that didn't mean you could work together well either.

And you didn't want to if this was the outcome of your bickering and hatred.

#kinktober 2023 #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid kinktober #criminal minds kinktober #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x oc #hate sex #enemies to lovers

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pseudowho · 8 months

Text

Defending Your Honour

A series in which the JJK guys stick-it to the creeps and perverts bothering the reader.

A multi-fic in a series ❤️🫖☕

Part 1 (Nanami Kento, Geto Suguru, and Todo Aoi) link here!

Part 2 (Higuruma Hiromi, Ino Takuma and Itadori Yuuji) link here!

More JJK men and women to come

Trigger Warning: unsolicited dick pics, upskirting, catcalling, threatened sexual assault/reader followed into bathroom

Gojo Satoru

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"Baaaaabe," Satoru whinged from the sofa, at the exact pitch required to set your eyes rolling. You walked back to him, blushing as you felt his eyes roll languidly up and down your bare legs beneath his oversized t-shirt.

Plopping the popcorn bowl down, you sat on the sofa beside him, lazily draping your legs over his lap, tilting your head inquisitively towards him as he teased his long fingers over your thighs. He felt you look at him questioningly, and smirked.

"Nothin'," he shot, "s'too late. Was gonna ask you what movie you wanted, but you're too late. I picked already."

"Oh, really?" You teased, swirling a finger on his pecs, "And what did you choose?"

"Only the cult-classic noughties Anne Hathaway gem...the Princess Diaries. Two." You clapped, squealing with genuine delight as Satoru laughed, pulling you closer onto his lap by the legs.

The movie rolled, and you cuddled under Satoru's arm, taking turns, giggling as you fed each other popcorn. Your phone buzzed, once. You ignored it. Your phone buzzed, again. You ignored it. It buzzed again-- again-- again--

"Someone's popular tonight," Satoru teased, "you wanna get that?" You squirmed uncomfortably under his arm, your lip curled in disgust.

"No, just leave it. Nothing to worry about." Satoru raised an unconvinced eyebrow, but tucked you closer, deliberately missing your mouth with the next piece of popcorn he offered you, shoving it at a nostril instead. You laughed, batting him away.

A few minutes passed, and the incessant buzzing of your phone began again. Satoru felt you tense under his arm. He sat forward, pausing the movie and turning to you.

"Look, you know I won't push for an answer, but...is everything alright?" You turned away from him, lips curled up again, upset.

"This guy from work..." you started guiltily, fidgeting, "...he just keeps messaging me. Won't leave me alone, I-- I've been ignoring him for weeks." Satoru's face pinched in pain and concern. He reached out a hand, threading his fingers through yours.

"Babe...you could have told me." You shrugged, eyes tearing up now. You reached out for your phone, unlocking it.

"I didn't want you to think it was my faul--" you cried out in disgust, dropping your phone into your lap with a jolt, sniffling, face crumpling, "--I'm so sick of this, Satoru."

Satoru slowly reached a hand out to your phone, hesitating for you to stop him. You shook your head tearfully, gesturing loosely at your phone for him to take it.

Satoru's face morphed into something ugly as he scrolled through photo after photo of another man's penis, sometimes flaccid, sometimes hard, held in his hand, covered in cum, in different lighting, at different angles--

"This," Satoru spat, "is not your fault. None of it is." Satoru dropped your phone on the coffee table, turning fully to you again, "Do you know where this guy lives?"

You frowned at Satoru, nodding slowly, considering; "What...are you going to do?"

Satoru's lips quirked at the edges into a dirty little smile; "Nothing for you to worry about. Don't sweat it. I'm the strongest. You know it."

An hour or so later, the owner of the unwanted penis stepped into his apartment, still buzzing after sending you so many good photos, and from the office no less, it was so filthy, so naughty, he just, just knew you'd love it--

"Hey there, guy. I've been waiting for you."

Grabbed bodily by this unreasonably strong, tall, white-haired man, your assailant cried out in terrified indignation as Satoru threw him onto his sofa. Satoru sat on the coffee table opposite him, eyes covered by a black blindfold, spidery legs spread and blocking the man's exit.

"Unlock your phone," Satoru commanded, sounding almost cheerful. The man glared, snarling.

"I'm not unlocking my fucking phone--"

"Unlock your phone," Satoru ordered again, now cold, methodically dangerous, "now."

The assailant reached for his phone with a trembling hand, unlocking it. Satoru held out his own hand expectantly. The man hesitated. Satoru clapped his fingers against his palm, in a display of impatience. Begrudgingly, the man handed over his phone to Satoru, who hummed as he flicked through the disgusting messages the man had been sending you.

"You know," Satoru said conversationally, his words sending shivers of fear up the man's spine, "I kill monsters for a living...did you know that? Probably not." Satoru sucked his teeth, preparing a multi-participant messaging list on the man's phone.

"Got any sisters? Brothers?" Satoru inquired. The man nodded, uncertain. Satoru smiled, as if delighted by the man's cooperation, "Names?"

Shakily, the man reeled off their names, his stomach sinking lower and lower as Satoru asked for more names-- his boss, his best friend, his best friend's wife, his solicitor...

With a happy sigh of finality, Satoru clapped his hands together, throwing the phone back onto the sofa.

"Hope they like your photos, anyway," Satoru chirped to the man, who stared at his frantically buzzing phone as if it were an unexploded bomb, "no takey-backsies!"

Satoru stood, walking to the front door. He paused, turning back slowly, the very air within the flat seeming to crush in around the man with some inconceivable force.

"And if you ever go near my girl again," Satoru offered, calculating, menacing, "the next monster I'll kill is you."

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Megumi and Nobara

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"She doesn't want to go to the book shop with you, she wants to come with me, there's this dress I think she'll look really cute in--"

"--she's my girlfriend Kugisaki!" Megumi snapped, tugging your hand in his so they sat flush against his thigh. You hummed, pretending to consider your options.

"I dunno Megs...if the dress is cute enough, maybe I'll be Nobara's girlfriend instead." Megumi spun to you, appalled, and you laughed as he and Nobara bickered with each other on the way to the escalator.

Ginza was busy, buzzing with the animated, vibrant ebb and flow of the wealthy, and the excitable tourists, and the perfectly-coiffed fashionistas. You, Megumi and Nobara tumbled through the crowd, being reshuffled by the constant bump of passers-by, and you ended up entering the escalator two people ahead of them.

Leaning round to shoot them an apologetic smile, you saw Megumi and Nobara remained embroiled in their sibling-ish argument. You rolled your eyes, facing forward, eyes up to the twinkling lights of the shopping centre.

You thought very little of the twitching of the back of your skirt, so close was the crowd. You heard a cough behind you, loud, barking. You heard another cough, and another, and another.

"Hey-- hey! What the fuck do you think you're doing?" You tried to turn at the sound of Nobara's voice, but failed, shoulders bracketed by the press of the crowd.

"Megumi-- that piece of shit took photos up your girlfriend's skirt! He's covering up the camera noise with coughs!"

"Bastard!"

You cried out as you were shoved forwards, your fingers cracking painfully against the metal of the escalator, and a man in a baseball cap forced his way past you, phone in hand. Nobara and Megumi shouted, in pursuit, Megumi pulling you to your feet as the crowd decompressed at the top of the escalator.

You were confused, humiliated and all turned-around as you staggered at the top of the escalator. Pitying eyes glazed over you in passing, the flow of people giving you a wide berth. You blushed, and clutched the hem of your skirt, feeling so exposed, pulling down the hem at the back.

Megumi had stumbled ahead in chase, but turned back and grasped your hand, his eyes beseeching you to chase with him. Nobara tore off ahead, rounding a corner. You nodded, sniffling, and Megumi raised your clasped hands to his face, pressing a kiss to your palm.

You sprinted together after Nobara and found her pinning the capped man against a wall, effortlessly gripping the front of his hoodie while he squirmed. She was going through his phone, lips twisted in distaste at the intimate photographs he had taken of you.

Megumi approached, fists clenching and unclenching, his nose scrunched in disgust. Nobara held the phone close to her chest, eyeing him inquisitively. Megumi shot you a sideways glance, and shook his head at Nobara.

"Save them for the cops," he snapped, "but for now..." Megumi turned to you; "What do you want to do with this bastard?"

Your lip trembled, and you bit it between your teeth to still it. You felt violated, furiously vengeful.

"I think," you shook out, "we should find this guy a skirt." With matching satisfied, wicked smiles, Megumi and Nobara rounded on your assailant.

The sales assistants manning the changing rooms did not dare approach the scene that was unfolding behind the curtains, some time later. While the capped man frantically sobbed, his knobbly-kneed hairy legs woefully exposed by the cute miniskirt he wore, Megumi kept him arm-locked against the wall, endlessly berating and insulting him, while Nobara knelt, taking miserably unflattering photos of his taint under the hem of his skirt.

You stood back, grimly satisfied as your assailant wept his apologies. As you wiped away tears of mirth, Megumi paused in his bullying for just a moment, to smile at you, eyes soft, warm, full of sincere adoration.

You mused to yourself as Nobara slapped the back of the man's thigh, making him shriek; it's not strictly morally just, you thought to yourself, but I don't strictly care.

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Toge Inumaki

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You found yourself so nervous, the first 'first date' you had had in quite some time. Your date, Inumaki, seemed equally unsure, but rolled with a quiet mischievous confidence that sent butterflies through your tummy.

You had approached him, your outfit suddenly seeming so overdone compared to his hoodie and jeans, and you opened your mouth to apologise for being overdressed. The words stopped in your throat as Inumaki's eyes glimmered with joy, and he gestured up and down your body with one finger, before clasping his hands over his heart and tipping his head back towards the sky.

You pressed a hand over your mouth, blushing, and Inumaki stepped forward to grasp your hands and bring them away from your face, swinging them affectionately in his own. You bumped the side of your head against his, realising with a curling warmth, that he had plaited his fingers in yours as you walked together down the street.

The day passed, in a flurry of arcades, street food, souvenir shopping, buying small gifts for each other...the whole day had been spent in wordless gestures, familiar and comfortable. Inumaki's heart stuttered each time he managed to tease you into a twinkling laugh.

Heading home, hands still swinging together, rich steam and hoppy beer aromas tumbled out of the closely packed ramen shops. You and Inumaki found yourselves pressed uncomfortably close to a pack of young men as you squeezed through the crowd. One man squeezed pricklingly, unnecessarily against you as he passed, the street wide enough to render his intimacy completely unjustifiable.

Inumaki paused, watchful eyes seeing as you drew your shoulders up in defence.

"Oh hey baby! You on a date? Hey bro, your girlfriend just tried to feel me up!" You blushed in furious mortification as your shoulders drew even closer towards your chin, pulling your jacket around yourself, keeping your head down and hoping the assault would just go away.

The young man's pack of friends, four of them, laughed and jeered, taking swigs from cans of beer and turning to join in the game.

"Nice outfit babe! Think I've seen something like it on a street corner near here..."

"Yeah, that jacket ain't coverin' much, sweetheart!"

"Aww, you cold? C'mere baby, I've got something nice and warm for you in my pocket."

As the pack continued to laugh and jeer at you, your happiness shrivelled, and you were reduced to nothing, a pecked worm between birds.

Inumaki raised his hand, slowly drawing his mask down, revealing his unusual facial markings. The pack of men paused, then laughed harder. The original perpetrator raised his beer to Inumaki, and began to speak as Inumaki waggled his tongue in preparation.

"Think you've got a bit of Sharpie on your face, ma--"

"Kiss each other-- like you mean it."

Gripped by something other than his own thoughts and desires, the young man stopped, dropping his can to the floor with a metallic wet thunk...before turning to his friend and grasping his face, pressing a passionate, staggering kiss to his lips. The kiss was enthusiastically reciprocated, and two of the others fought each other for the right to lock lips with the final man.

"Put your hands down his pants."

The crowd around the young men hooted and whistled at the show, as the enforced make-out session grew steamier, beer spilling onto the floor around them, wet kisses sounding through the air, hands down pants, groping.

"Keep going-- really enjoy yourselves."

As the scene before you unfolded into something increasingly erotic and debauched, your jaw dropped, all of your own embarrassment forgotten, and Inumaki raised his mask with a cough. Pulling you to wind through the crowd of onlookers and raised, clicking phone cameras, Inumaki turned and shot you a wink.

You laughed, desperately appreciative, and already planning your second date.

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Fushiguro Toji

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"Toji-- Toji-- I mean it, slow down, I need to pee!"

Toji sighed, brisk and pissed-off (his factory settings), and stopped pulling you along by the hand. He shot you a withering look, until you batted your eyelashes, clasping your hands together as you wiggled at him.

Despite himself, he smirked, glancing away so you didn't see (though you already had), and started scouring the street for public bathrooms.

"Come on, pea-bladder," he mocked, his deep voice slow and drawling, "let's find you somewhere to piss."

"Toji, don't be so gross--"

"Don't be so needy, jeez, or you're payin' for your own dinner." You rolled your eyes, punching his shoulder affectionately. Rounding a corner, a set of public bathrooms appeared opposite a row of shops.

Raising Toji's hand to your face, you pressed a kiss to the back of his enormous fist. Toji pinched your chin lovingly, before spinning you by the shoulders and planting a hefty slap to your bum.

"Hurry up kid. If someone prettier passes while you're in there, I ain't stickin' round." Toji laughed as your jaw dropped, aghast, and pushed you towards the bathrooms.

Toji chuckled to himself as you skipped away, his eyes only briefly registering the figure loitering outside the bathroom as you headed in.

A few minutes passed and you stepped, relieved, out of the stalls and walked to the sink to clean your hands. Sidling from his hiding spot round the corner, a heavy-jacketed man looked towards you as you gasped, immediately backing yourself away against a wall.

"All alone, baby?" The man challenged, tongue sliding across his front teeth as he approached you, a flick knife clacking in his hand. Steeped in terror, your eyes filled with tears, and you were miserably trapped in the corner against a toilet stall. You opened your mouth to beg for your life, but were interrupted by a low, dangerous voice.

"Nah, man. She ain't alone. But you are."

In abrupt, bloody violence, Toji swung a fist, shattering the man's nose and front teeth in an instant. The man's head snapped back and you screamed, spats of blood splattering down to mix with the stale-water-toilet-paper-mulch of the public bathroom floor.

Toji drew his fist back again as the man staggered, Toji's face twisted in filthy, murderous rage; "Chickenshit little coward, I'll fucking gut yo--"

Toji stopped stock-still at your pale little face staring up in terror...at him now, not your would-be assailant twisting like a maggot on the wet floor. Toji felt a hot rush of shame at having been the cause of your terror.

"Babe..." he started, lost for words. You trembled before him. Toji gulped, turning away from you, unable to look you in the eye. As your frightened heart slowed, Toji took a deep, measured breath in through his nose, and out of his mouth.

"I...frightened you. I'm so--" the words caught in Toji's throat, so alien to him. He took a deep breath and tried again; "I'm sorry. Let's finish this guy off together, huh? Before we take him to the cops."

You hesitated, before nodding, tearful eyes smiling up at Toji, sending his belly tumbling. Lifting the bloodied man up by his collar, Toji grinned devilishly at him.

"Swirly..." Toji began to chant, raising his voice as you started to join in, clapping in rhythm, "Swirly, swirly, swirly--"

Other passers-by found alternate public bathrooms that day, put off by the sounds of repeated flushing and strangled wet sobs.

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Ahhh. I managed to find a bit of love even for Toji, who is so SHOCKINGLY in looks and character like my older brother 💀💀💀🫠

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variousqueerthings · 1 year

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okay I watched good omens s2 yesterday with my partner, and I was genuinely very surprised -- I think if you've grown up through superwholock/merlin/the 100/teen wolf type shows where (with the exception periodically of doctor who) you kind of had to make up the good show that something could have been in your head, that colours a lot of your viewing, and to be honest I thought season 1 of good omens was a fine little piece, honoured the book while modernising it somewhat, it was a nice, fun, low stakes time, with a couple of things I might have wanted a tad different but nothing overall awful.

so I was seeing all this meta and gifsets and discussion, while I was waiting to give s2 a watch with my partner and thought "ah, people have made up the good show in their heads again" not that I assumed s2 was going to be a bad show, but that people were taking extra deep plunges into possibilities, the way fandom does, and that was fine. I knew there was a big ol kiss, I had a sense of some kind of argument at the end, and that it was setting up a s3

I also knew that mainstream reviews were calling it (politely) self-indulgent and dependent on whether or not you enjoy david tennant and michael sheen having a good time for just under 6 hours

all in all, expectations of a somewhat mainstream show without too much to think about, a nice, fun low stakes time, moving on...

(EDIT: AND THEN I WROTE A LOT OF WORDS SO YOU CAN IMAGINE THAT MY REACTION WAS QUITE DIFFERENT)

as it turns out it seems these things that were being written on tumblr were discussing the actual text of the show and not things you could extrapolate if you squinted and tilted your head a little to the left as I'm so used to doing, so in fact there is much to think about!

and my first thought was "this is like when you read early discworld books that ask a question like a joke, only to find that over time the answer to that question becomes very serious (and also can be funny at times of course)." how terry pratchett would pick and pick at tropes and notions and social ideas and go "oh now hold on, this seems strange..." starting way back when he thought it was odd that women warriors always seemed to be dressed in metal bikinis and then realising he hadn't done a good enough job of subverting the trope, simply by depicting it and calling it a bit silly

why do goblins always get treated as the villains? what's with this divine succession of kings business? where are the female dwarfs? who do we treat as disposable?

good omens season one went: "haha what if heaven and hell were intensely incapable, bureaucratic, corrupt, and uncaring of the work they did, and we took an angel and a demon and had them actually care? wouldn't that be... a bit silly?" (and it was)

good omens season two went: "what are the consequences for caring when the people who have power over you are incapable, bureaucratic, corrupt, and uncaring? what are the forces that supersede systems built on fear, ignorance, and violent conformity? can people change and break out of/challenge/break down these structures by caring?"

and this was set up with a neat little sleight of hand (to reference aziraphale's switch-and-bait in the episode with the nazi zombies), because the majority of season 2 does feel a bit indulgent: hey, remember those two wacky angel-and-demon characters? watch some more wacky things they did through the ages, watch them take a sojourn through 1827 Edinburgh and do a magic show during the Blitz, and... stop the death of Job's and Sitis' children (actually maybe that whole segment ought to have been what they call "A Clue")

see them try to figure out a kooky mystery, all the while setting up a cute little same-gender romance on their street. watch as everything points towards a happy ending that's all about the two of them realising what they've been to one another all these thousands and thousands (and thousands and thousands) of years- but hold on. lest we forget - and the show has made this point over and over - there are powerful people who control them, who hurt them, and who plan on hurting others, throughout the whole season, and as it turns out they know what they've been to one another for far far longer, and know how to pull their strings...

season 2 then, has to show us these things, not because they're indulgent (well, maybe occasionally, but the apology dance is still important), but because in order to make the ending a tragedy, we first need to understand, properly, the impact that they have had on each other. we need to understand that Aziraphale relied heavily on Crowley to be his moral compass and leaned on black-and-white thinking in order to deal with things, because if it's all grey then where does he fit and what has it all meant and heaven has to be the good guys, even as Job's and Sitis' children are ordered to be killed, it's all he ever had...

and Crowley was always an anchor, needed to trust that Aziraphale was different, needed to bend to every whim that Aziraphale has, because otherwise what's his worth in all this? After having been already deemed worthless by the heaven that Aziraphale needs to believe in?

and that, simplistically described, is the narrative that we're seeing in s2, and alongside that the ways that the changes they have upon each other are noticed, and monitored, and placed under suspicion, and finally... broken up, not by the clumsy, brute force that's been attempted over and over again, but by a promise to return into a violent, controlling system and to "make it better from within"

and all of this is wrapped up in two queer relationships + a third queered-within-the-text relationship that creates the inverse of how it ends for Aziraphale and Crowley (so far). queer love -- whatever shape that has -- is explicitly the shape of non-conformity within this narrative, including within the symbolism of angel-and-demon love of Gabriel and Beelzebub, which in the context of the systems created is considered queer (and one can argue till the cats come home about casting cis actors, about angel-and-demon notions of gender/romance/sexuality, but the "queerness" comes from building something non-conforming to the systems they exist in), and enforced by the explicitly our-world-definition-of queer romance that Nina and Maggie have going on (which, while less high stakes, still contains the background controlling relationship that Nina initially is in)

all of this to say, that I disagree that s2 meanders, or that plotlines happen for the sake of showcasing Aziraphale and Crowley without purpose, or that characters get sidelined (I'd say it sets up a whole host of interesting characters to further get into actually), or that it's strictly mainstream easy-access narrative that's just an excuse for the main creators and actors to get back together.

the love is the point, and this show takes its time to show the love (and the unequal boundary-setting, and the fact that one of them has an undiscussed tragic backstory, and the desperation to belong again, and the fear instilled by oppressive systems, and and and), so that we understand why those last 15 minutes happen the way that they do

it's sleight of hand, and like all good magic, you don't notice until it's happened

#good omens #go2 #good omens season 2 #neil gaiman #david tennant #michael sheen

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niteshade925 · 16 days

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April 13, Xi'an, China, Shaanxi Archaeology Museum/陕西考古博物馆 (Part 4 - Sui and Tang dynasties):

This is another star of the museum, a Tang dynasty (618 - 907 AD) bronze mirror, the back of which is decorated with carved luodian/螺钿 (mother of pearl). Near the edge are various birds, while the inner ring is arranged in a "sunflower" shape. Kinda wish I can see a modern replica of this one without all these marks and discolorations from the passage of time:

A Tang dynasty yupei/玉佩 (jade pendant). Unlike the Western Zhou dynasty yupei in part 2, this type is most definitely supposed to be hung from the waist. This one in particular was one of a set of two (both worn on waist, one on each side), and these were part of the formal wear of first to fifth rank officials during Tang dynasty:

Luo Wanshun's Epitaph/罗婉顺墓志. As mentioned in the first Beilin museum post, ancient Chinese epitaphs have a two-piece structure, consisting of a tablet and the protective covering on top. This is the protective covering on top, with the large inscription identifying this as the epitaph stone of Luo Wanshun, engraved in seal script/zhuanshu/篆书:

And here's the actual body of the epitaph. This particular epitaph was drafted by one of the "Eight Immortals of the Wine Cup"/饮中八仙, Li Jin/李琎 (he was also the nephew of Emperor Xuanzong of Tang/唐玄宗), and the calligraphy was provided by the famous calligrapher Yan Zhenqing/颜真卿:

Tang-era pottery figurines of the Chinese zodiac animals. This set is sadly incomplete, but the way these zodiac animals are partially anthropomorphized is pretty interesting. From left to right, these are tiger, rabbit, dragon, snake, sheep, and dog (yep that is a dog head, apparently). Not sure why rabbit and dog figurines are missing their ears though, maybe the ears broke off and are lost?

Sui dynasty (581 - 618 AD) green-glazed boshanlu/博山炉 incense burner. Note the panlong/蟠龙 dragon curled around the base:

Left: Sui dynasty white-glazed ewer with a chicken head-shaped handle. Right: Sui dynasty white-glazed vase. The curves on this one is *chef kiss*

More Sui dynasty white glazed pottery, but the most incredible thing is the white porcelain cup in the middle. The lip of that cup is 1mm (~1/32 in) thick, and the sides are so thin, it's almost see through:

Tang-era sancai/三彩 glazed conjoined flasks that is shaped like a pair of fish. Similar twin-fish motif can be found in numerous traditional Chinese holiday decor, and symbolize auspiciousness, wealth, and surplus--especially surplus, since fish in Chinese (鱼) is pronounced yú, and "surplus" in Chinese (余) is also pronounced yú. This is why the phrase 年年有余 ("may there be a surplus every year") is often paired up with imagery of carps, children holding giant carps, or a twin-fish motif.

Absolutely beautiful Tang-era wall mural of a tiger, which was very sadly damaged over time. But from the pieces left, you can still appreciate the raw power of the tiger captured by these lines:

Another beautiful Tang-era wall mural depicting men on horseback playing "polo", called maqiu/马球 (lit. "horse ball") in Chinese. It's unclear whether the maqiu depicted here originated in China in late Eastern Han dynasty (25 - 220 AD) or was brought to China via the Silk Road at the beginning of Tang dynasty, but anyway this sport was very popular during Tang dynasty, and there were many female players at the time too.

The women of Tang dynasty as depicted by pottery figurines:

A small model of Tang-era triple que/阙 gate towers. Que gate towers first appeared in Western Zhou dynasty (1046 - 771 BC) and have been a part of Chinese architecture ever since. Que gate towers usually come in pairs, one on each side of the gate, and they were used to display status.

A map of Tang dynasty Chang'an city laid on top of the current map of Xi'an city, showing the imperial palace (top center), the East Market/东市 and West Market/西市, and the 108 districts (called fang/坊):

A Tang-era chiwen/鸱吻 (螭吻 is the original name, 鸱吻 is the alternative name, another alternative name is 蚩吻, but the pronunciation remains the same for all three) roof ornament. These are the pairs of horn-shaped pieces on the top of the roof of traditional Chinese architecture. These ornaments are made to represent the Ninth Son of the Dragon, called Chiwen/螭吻, which looks like a dragon-headed fish and has the power to control water, thus it's used in traditional Chinese architecture to ward off fires:

Sui-era gold gilded handle of a stone sarcophagus:

A pottery jar found buried in the tomb of Crown Prince Jiemin/节愍太子 (Li Chongjun/李重俊, son of Emperor Zhongzong of Tang/唐中宗 Li Xian/李显), partially shaped like a pagoda and decorated with various Buddhist motifs such as lotus petals and elephant heads. This is speculated to be a representation of a granary, which would hold grains for the crown prince in the afterlife:

And last but not least, a Sui-era pottery camel bearing sacks that have the imagery of the Greek god of wine Dionysus upon them, which shows the great amount of cultural exchange that took place back then:

#2024 china #xi'an #china #shaanxi archaeology museum #chinese history #chinese culture #sui dynasty #tang dynasty #chinese calligraphy #calligraphy #archaeology #history #culture

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kpop---scenarios · 5 months

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Whiplash (1)

Pairing: Felix x Reader x Hyunjin

Genre: Street Racing, Gang, Friends to lovers

Word Count: 3.2k

“Y/N against Han!” Chan yells, trying to gather everyone around. You stared at Han, trying to scare him as you impatiently waited for Chan to tell you guys to start. This was always a thing at these parties, you had been the undefeated beer chugging champion for months and still everytime, someone dared to go up against you in hopes of gaining the title. But it never worked, so far no one was able to beat you.

“Good luck.” you hear from beside you. You turn to look, seeing Hyunjin and Felix, both standing there with a smile on their faces, smiles that melt your fucking heart. Felix sends you a little wink as you turn to face Han, making your heart flutter.

You were so fucking in love with both of them.

You had known Hyunjin and Felix for years. The three of you had met by chance, at a party just like this and you still weren't sure what caused it but the three of you became pretty inseparable very quickly. And over those years the three of you had become the best of friends. Friends who told each other everything, even the hard things. The three of you had your ups and downs throughout the years but there was nothing that you wouldn't do for each other.

Over the years, you had only ever seen two sides of Hyunjin and Felix. The first side was the sweet caring side that brought you flowers and ice cream to cheer you up when you had broken up with your piece of shit boyfriend.

And the second side of them was the terrifyingly angry side. They had both beat the shit out of your ex boyfriend when they found out he was cheating on you. Even though you had been friends for a long time, somewhere along the way you had fallen for both of them. Not by choice of course. You never wanted this to happen but somehow, somewhere the platonic love you had for them turned romantic. Those feelings however, were shoved deep down inside of you, and were never allowed to see the light of day. They made it so fucking hard for you to keep those feelings in check. Whenever you were around one or both of them, they were constantly touching you, holding onto you. It was like they needed to be near you and still, you continuously told yourself that you could never go there with either of them. Those things between you needed to stay purely platonic and you would just have to be okay with that.

But you weren't okay with it. You never showed your romantic love for them when you were around both or any mutual friends. Even when you watched women flirt with each of them, and them flirting back. The desperation you felt to be the one that they touched like that, or talked too like that. The best you could do was dream about it. You weren't about to put yourself or them in that position, you didn't want what you already had to be ruined. If you confessed to either and one didn't feel the same or both, there's no coming back from that. The three of you would never be the same. You didn't want to lose your best friends.

“Ready.” chan yells. “Set…” He smiles. “And go!”

You begin chugging one out of 4 beers in front of you, then the second, and the third. By the time you got to the fourth one, Han was just starting his third.

You could see Hyunjin and Felix out of the corner of your eye smiling and rooting for you to win, instead of their other friend. As you finished your last beer, you threw your cup on the floor before lifting your hands above your head to celebrate while you relished in the sound of everyone clapping for you and cheering you on.

Han walked away looking defeated while you took a shot that you didn't need. You were already drunk, but it helped when Hyunjin had walked over to you, a smile on his face as he picked you up and spun you around.

"You're amazing." He laughs, setting you down on the floor. You could feel the blush spreading across your face as he stared at you. Felix came over, pulling you out of Hyunjin's embrace and into his own. “That's my girl.” Felix smiles, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, his eyes never leaving yours like the two of you were in a goddamn drama. You could feel your heart racing so hard while the liquor flowed through your body. your knees were weak. Out of nowhere, Han shoves in between you two, sticking his finger in your face.

"You." He hiccups. "I want a rematch." He finishes. You smile at the drunk man, already forgetting about the moments with Hyunjin and Felix.

"You wanna go again?” You laugh. “Are you sure you want to lose again?" You ask, heading back to the table. You watch as a drunk Chan and drunk Changbin try to fill more cups up with beer, laughing as they spill some all over the table.

"3, 2, 1." Everyone yells before you and Han have your rematch. You were already drunk, so you were moving a little slower than before but Han, he was a mess. He was trying not to gag as he finished his first beer, while you were already starting on your third. You knew you could take your time and sip it but you wanted to destroy him.

And you did.

"Don't take it too hard." You drunkenly slur, suddenly feeling dizzy. Your legs feel like they're about to give out on you as you tumble back. You brace yourself for the impact you knew was coming from the hard floor, but instead you were graced with the feeling of a hard chest and strong arms holding you up.

“Woah, there drunky.” You hear the extremely deep voice that makes your panties wet. Felix helps you up, standing steadily on your own two feet, his hands on your shoulders as he smiles at you. “Hyunjin.” He calls.

Oh god why?

“She's plastered.” Felix says, smiling at you again. Ugh you wanted to melt.

“Should one of us take you home?” Hyunjin asks.

“Yesssssss. You both take me home and to bed!” You giggle, stumbling towards the front door. Hyunjin and Felix walk after you, trying to help you not to bump into things on your way out of the house. Both men guide you towards Hyunjins car, where he gets into the driver's seat, while Felix helps you into the back seat. He was going to close the door until you pulled him back there with you. He lets out a laugh as he closes the door and you lay your head in his lap. Felix rests his hand on you as you quickly fall asleep. Hyunjin glares at Felix in the back with you as he drives off to your house.

You wake up the next morning with a throbbing head and your entire body being sore. You remembered doing the beer chugging challenge with Han, and then a shot but then your memory cuts out. You rub your eyes as you reach for your phone, and just as you thought messages from Hyunjin and Felix.

[From Hyunjin 3:08am] You might be a little sore in the morning. You tripped on a curb after getting out of the car and running once we got to your building. Felix and I tried to catch you before hand but fuck your quick.

[From Felix 3:10am] I don't care what Hyunjin says, I really did try to grab you before you walked into that door. I hope your head isn't too bad when you get up. Text me and I'll bring you food.

You read through the rest of them, and groan about what a pain in the ass you are when you're drunk. You glance at the time, it's still morning but fuck you could go for a burger right about now. You decided you were going to surprise the two with food, so you got up, took some advil and put on a cute summer dress, chugged a bunch of water before heading out.

You stood outside the house, kicking the door impatiently with food for 8 of you and it was getting heavy.

“I'm fucking coming.” You hear from inside. An angry looking Chan opens the door, until he sees you and then his expression softens.

“Oh shit, let me take that.” Chan says, quickly grabbing the food from your hands, and taking it inside. “Guys, Y/N brought food!” Chan yells. Suddenly seven men emerge from different rooms, coming into the kitchen, murmuring thank you's in between bites of food.

“I told you I'd bring you food.” Felix laughs as he takes a bite of his burger.

“Yeah, but I wanted to do something nice, since I'm assuming you and Hyunjin took care of me last night.” You sigh.

“That we did.” Hyunjin says, glancing at Felix before they both start snickering. Once you all were done eating you sat on the couch, Hyunjin right beside you while Felix sprawled out with his head in your lap. You had no fucking idea what movie was even playing on the screen right now. All your focus was on the fact that Felix had the need to reach up and touch your face constantly, while, you're assuming, accidentally brushing his arm against your nipple. Every single time. While Hyunjin sat there with his hand grasped tightly to your thigh, squeezing it every once in a while. At the end of the first movie Chan had gotten some kind of phone call, saying that the rest of them needed to leave to take care of something. So off went Chan, Seungmin, I.N, Lee Know, Han and Changbin, leaving the three of you alone.

You tried to ignore it, you tried to focus on the show but you were struggling and by the middle of the second movie you couldn't take it anymore.

“Move. Off.” You say, tapping Felix's head. He sits up, displeased that you were getting up. You quickly walk to the kitchen, trying to catch your breath as you squeeze your legs together, trying to sooth your throbbing clit. You lay your head and stomach onto the island in the kitchen, the coolness of the marble helping the heat you were currently feeling. You must have been too busy listening to the sound of your breathing with your eyes closed as you calmed yourself down, because you didn't hear the footsteps that came into the kitchen. You had no idea anyone was there until you felt a pair of hands slide onto your hips as someone stood behind you, rubbing their hands up and down your back. You opened your eyes and saw Hyunjin laying on the island beside you, his face so close to yours you could so easily kiss him at that moment.

“You left us so you could be in here?” Felix asks, gliding his hands through your hair.

“It's cold here.” You sigh. “I was hot in the living room.”

“We could have helped you cool off.” Hyunjin smiles. You squeeze your eyes shut, you were trying to calm yourself down not get even more worked up.

“I have to go.” You announce, standing up.

“Are you going to come to the club tonight?” Felix asks as you grab your purse. “Yup, I will be there. Gonna go get ready.” You say, avoiding more eye contact.

“Well we can come help you.” Hyunjin offers.

“Nope. See you later.” You yell, slamming the door behind you.

A few hours later you're sitting on your bed, just wearing a bra and panties as you let your makeup dry while you're on the phone with your best, and only close girlfriend.

“Seulgi.” You whine. “I can't do it. I'm going to end up jumping them both.”

“Don't do that. Remember what you told me. What if they don't reciprocate your feelings?” She says.

“Okay yeah, whatever. But what if they do?” You say. You knew you were being delusional, but sometimes the way they were with you made you wonder.

“I mean you could try.” She laughs.

“You're supposed to stop me from this shit. Are you sure you can't come tonight?” You sigh.

“I've got a date, and she's fucking hot. I cannot miss it.” Seulgi says.

You groan loudly. “Maybe I should just be a lesbian? Is it easier?”

“Well I've always been one so I dunno, but trust me babe, you'd get chewed up and spit out if you switched sides.” She laughs, loudly. You roll your eyes at her glancing at the time. It was almost 9:30pm and you needed to finish getting ready.

“Shit.” You groan. “Okay, I gotta go. I'll talk to you later. Have fun tonight!” You finish before hanging up the phone. As soon as you're off the phone, you put on some music and start dancing around your room as you fix your hair. You pull out a few potential outfits from your drawers, throwing them on the bed as you sing along to your playlist. As you're dancing as you get yourself into the little black dress you had decided to wear. You slip on your shoes, grabbing your purse and taking one last look at yourself in the mirror before you head out, knowing that Felix and Hyunjin are both outside waiting in the car for you. It seemed to be a bit of an unwritten rule that whenever you were going out with them, they always showed up to your apartment at 10pm on the dot. They did it once and you had never really spoken about It after that but they just continued to do so, not that you were complaining.

The three of you get to the club, and head for the bar. You each take a few shots before Hyunjin and Felix are both dragged out to the dance floor. You knew the girl who grabbed Hyunjin, she was his on and off again fuck buddy on occasion, but the one who took Felix was a stranger. You didn't like it. You didn't like that Felix was dancing with the girl and you sure didn't like that bitch with Hyunjin. She always muttered shit about you under her breath, glared at you and acted as if she was so much better than you. But you put up with it because if Hyunjin was happy then you tried to be happy for him even if it broke you a little each time.

“Hey beautiful.” You hear from behind you. “Can I buy you a drink?” You turn to look, seeing a very attractive man standing there. You glance at the two men dancing, and realize they were in their own worlds so why shouldn't you be?

“I'd love a shot.” You smile as you pat the seat next to you. He sat down and motioned to the bartender for four shots.

“Im simon.” He grins, holding out his hand.

“Y/N.” You reply, gently shaking his hand.

“So what's a girl like you doing over here all by yourself?” He asks. You roll your eyes before laughing.

“What a cliche line.” You giggle, taking your second shot. “My friends were dragged away to the dance floor.” You say motioning behind you. “My other friends are around here somewhere though.”

“Would you like to dance?” He asks.

You nod your head yes, he slides his second shot towards you, motioning for you to take it. You do without question and follow Simon to the dance floor. He stands behind you, his hands on your hips as you get used to the beat and rhythm of the song. It doesn't take you long to feel the music flowing through you as you grind your ass into his crotch. You look around the dance floor, seeing Hyunjin and Felix's eyes focused on you and what you were doing. Your drinks had kicked in full force, making you feel bolder than you should be and you took it up a notch. You danced even more provocatively on Simon, making sure that both men saw you and what you were doing. While you were dancing on him, Simon continued to hand you shot after shot, enjoying the more drunk you got, the sluttier you got until you couldn't take anymore. You'd been dancing for well over an hour, with Hyunjin and Felix continuously watching you while also trying to pay attention to the ones they were with. After 15 minutes, they went and sat in a booth, pretending to listen to what the girls were saying but their eyes were almost always on you. Simon turned you around, too quickly and you stumbled. He looks down at you laughing, wrapping his arm around your waist.

“Why don't I take you back to my place?” He asks, smiling at you.

“Okay!” You giggle. Your inhibition was way too low. Simon begins to guide you off the dance floor, heading towards the front doors. You're stumbling all over the place as you try to walk with him. “Come on.” He urges, trying to pull you forward with him.

“Hey.” You hear just as you step out into the fresh air. You feel two hands grab onto your arm, stopping Simon from moving any further.

“Can I help you?” He asks. You lift your head up to see your two favorite men standing there with stone cold faces as they glare at Simon.

“She's not leaving with you.” Hyunjin deadpans. He reaches over grabbing you from Simon's grasp and pulling you into him and Felix, who wraps his arm around your waist.

“Who do.. are you to say who I can go home with!? Huh!?” You ask, staring at both of them. “Maybe I.” You hiccup. “Maybe I need to get off too.. cause of you two!” You yell.

You hadn't noticed Simon take off while you were yelling.

“Because of us?” Felix smiles. “what'd we do?” he asks, cocking his head to the side.

“Don't you know what you do to me?” You sigh. “You make it so hard to be platonic.” You scoff. “The things I wanna do to the two of you are not platonic.” You giggle, as you start wandering off. Both men quickly grab a hand each, both smirking as they guide you towards the car to take you home to put you to bed. They couldn't wait for you to wake up tomorrow.

As they're heading towards your apartment, Hyunjin gets a call.

“Yeah Chan?” He answers. “Tonight? Let me ask him.”

“There's a race tonight. $150k for grand prize.” He tells Felix. They both glance back at your sleeping frame, before back at each other. Felix nods to Hyunjin. “Yeah we'll go. Just gonna drop Y/N off at the house instead and then we'll be there. Text me the address.” He finishes, hanging up the call.

Felix heads back to the group's house instead of yours, carrying you inside before tucking you into Felix's bed. They quietly close the door, heading out to the address Chan texted, hoping that you didn't hear any of that conversation. You didn't know what they did, and they wanted to keep it that way, it was the best way that they could protect what was most important to them.

You.

#stray kids #lee felix #hwang hyunjin #felix smut #hyunjin smut #stray kids smut #kpop fanfic #kpop writing #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop icons #skz #skz writing #skz fanfic #skz smut

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needle-thread-thimble-spear · 3 months

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I find the cultural phenomena of the maid as opposed to its direct descendant (the generalized domestic laborer) to be really interesting, particularly in the transfeminine sphere. This post is gonna be kinda rambly and not have much a point and involve discussion of kink topics, abusive relationships, transmisogyny, colonial violence and its consequences, etc so heads up for that but anyway.

Starting with the regency/early victorian era Europe, there's this gradual development of a complex household structure among the upper classes, which caps out in the late victorian/edwardian era. This environment forges the "prototypical" idea we have of the maid, whom you'll see in period pieces and historical fiction. She might have worn a (modest!) black and white outfit, she might not have. If her employer is relatively poor she may supply her own clothes. Regardless though, she's a servant for someone wealthy enough to keep her on. Her employer might have inherited their wealth, or found success in a relatively new and burgeoning capitalism, but they were definitely a member of one of the upper classes. She might come from a working class family, or depending on her role, from the petty bourgeois/lesser nobility (it wasn't uncommon for a young lady to have a "companion", often poorer relative with no prospects of her own). It's interesting (though in hindsight not particularly surprising) how the space from where some women might become maids, wasn't very far away from the space where a family might keep on 1-3 people on staff (if you'd like to read more on this, Emily Post's original etiquette, written in 1922 is available for free on Project Gutenberg. Its a really interesting text, here's a summary of the maid section I wrote).

Anyway. Its around the height of this period that the "french maid" is codified. Apparently (my research on this isn't the most extensive I'll freely admit) it wasn't uncommon then for the english upper classes to hire maids from France. Wealthy men became quickly fascinated with them, and before long the french maid is a staple in the erotic material of the age. My understanding is that this is how the black-and-white stereotypical maid dress entered the public consciousness, since that was common at the time (indeed, other time periods and places had different standards for uniforms!) and is what the french maid in life would have worn.

After the world wars, the social landscape of wealthy people changed, the concept of the "middle class" crystalized, and a number of household appliances changed the nature of housework quite drastically. Most of the families that would have been considered middle class a few generations earlier stopped keeping on a "maid of all things". Very wealthy households would hire fewer members of staff, or simply stop hiring a permanent staff altogether. From then on, it would be the role of the housewife to do the domestic labor, or otherwise one keeps on a cleaner or a cleaning service who comes around every once a while. Eventually we enter the modern understanding of domestic labor, where live-in servants are rare and when they do exist they are often supplemented by cleaning services with no allegiance to any one household.

Meanwhile, the french maid continues along as a stock character, not just in explicitly erotic material but comedies and even historical/speculative fiction (and thus quite removed from her possibly more apt "prototypical" counterpart, see most anime/manga maids and "butlers"). At this point she may or may not bother with being french, and she may or may not bother with any domestic labor. The maid outfit (later costume) ends up as a stereotypical, almost trite set of clothing for sexual roleplay. It's in this environment that some early culture of "sissy" or "forcefem" kink latched onto the french maid. Since that avenue of kink focuses on feminization as humiliation, the positioning of the sub as a domestic servant for the (petty) nobility (which to be frank, is a pretty humiliating role all on its own, speaking from experience) dovetails into the whole shtick quite neatly.

Others more clever (and more concise...) than I am have written about how what makes forcefem hot is the transmisogyny. The transfemme is set up to hate herself, to self destruct, to feel shame and self-disgust, to feel terrified of herself, for what she is. I'm not gonna bother spelling out the connection here. A lot of transfemmes (even if they are terrified of it and try to avoid it like I did) find their way into that space pretransition. Or if they don't, they certainly become aware of it after they begin! And then we get all this response within our own culture. We reclaim "forcefem" as a term, maids become a common motif in the form of dolls in empty spaces type literature, but that undercurrent of internalized misogyny and shame still sits there I think. Don't mistake me, this isn't some sort of sex negative tirade against maidkink (that'd be a hypocrisy anyhow!) Rather I'd like to make the argument that we're frequently reclaiming something traumatic through it, even if we don't quite realize it. As transfemmes we often self efface when it comes to (trans)misogyny I think. It's easy for us to say we had an easy ride or that it wasn't so bad. But even so, ask yourself, would you be interested in maids so much if you weren't really badly hurt?

I want to end this going back to domestic labor. It has hardly been my career to this point. In fact, I've only spent a few months of my life as a housecleaner, several years ago before I transitioned. Those also happened to be some of the most grueling and torturous months of my life. A lot went wrong that summer. The work was physically demanding and the hours were long. It was one of my first experiences really working and I felt very loyal to my boss, whom I had a tangential personal relationship toward. I was alright at the work but I did it slowly, putting me behind my quotas. But the worst of it was the cementing of the unhealthy relationship I had with my ex into an abusive one. I won't bore you with the details, and beside they're torturous to relive. I'm afraid you'll have to take my word for it, I don't think I've felt so much shame and fear so intensely and for so long a duration since then. A screening of Silence of the Lambs was involved. What we've been through, what we've been subjected to, frequently leaves us pliable doormats, eager to please and easily abused. Many are eager to use us for that, and few things can feel so good as kind words from an abuser. If you're like me, maids are a lot about those feelings. The (trans)misogyny we undergo is a real phenomena. Maids for me is an acknowledgement of that.

Post Script: I think it's important to acknowledge how the history of domestic labor has been shaped by racial violence as well as (trans)misogynistic violence. In the United States, the prototypical maid could be white or black to suite the tastes of the employer. In northern culture, the maid was generally whiter than snow, because she was presumed to be better than her counterparts, thought to be less likely to steal and better mannered. That's what made the northern lady comfortable. In the south, the maid (who was often, maybe almost always black I'll have to do more research) was either enslaved or had ancestors who had been recently. Domestic staff being black was part of the mechanism of settler colonialism in the south. The southern lady was more comfortable seeing black women explicitly beneath her, so they were maids. I say was, but these attitudes persist, in one form or another, across the US today and influence who works where. In the modern domestic labor field, a lot of the workers are immigrants. When I did work cleaning houses, I met a lot of people from the Caribbean or Latin America. Remember when I said before that live in maids are rare, and often supported by outside cleaners? One of the women I met doing that job was a live in maid from the Caribbean (I wish I remember where but I'm afraid I don't. I was going through a lot at the time my memory of it all is difficult to access in good circumstances) who was responsible for cooking and laundry. We came in to do wetwork and dusting/vacuuming. That family had more money than grains of sand, and they weren't even so rich tbqh. At my agency, we'd usually get a temp staff from Eastern Europe to do the work but they were unavailable at the time due to the pandemic, so Americans were hired instead. It should be little surprise that a settler colonial state will oft assign the women of its (oft imported) underclasses to do any sort of difficult manual labor (particularly the kind that happens behind the scenes!). The institutions of sex, which disadvantage women (and trans women still further), are but one avenue of hierarchical social violence and these intersect with one another tightly.

Hope you enjoyed reading this ramble, and that you found it illuminating!

EDIT: removed a poorly constructed sentence that doesn't read well and utilizes figurative language in a place that should be more clear

#maid #spinning

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gorgeys · 1 month

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hi! big fan of ur maeve works omgg.. wld u consider writing a piece where maeve takes homelander’s wife? i can so see him bringing in his wife, supe or not, to fancy events as a trophy wife. maybe maeve steals her away at some point & realizes she’s 1) a lot smarter & capable than homelander plays her off as and 2) just as eager to get her hands on maeve as maeve is to have her.

just think of the messiest trio shit you’ve ever witnessed. homelander probably knows, too. I don’t even think he’d be mad. two of the hottest women in the world are linking.. he’d prob ask to watch <\3 but erm yeah also don’t feel like u have to write major homelander bits like this is maeve content I just think it’s funny he’s like “damn…. can I join u lovely ladies 🥺” - 🐠

queen maeve x homelander's wife!reader

I LOVE THIS IDEA! THANK U SM FOR THIS REQ!!

this is also over 3k words so brace yourself

warnings: smut - oral, fingering, strap-on, homelander being a dick

the seven is dumbfounded that anyone's agreed to marry homelander, let alone stay married to him, especially maeve who knows first hand how difficult he is. and they're absolutely astounded that he's landed a baddie like you, but there you are, his hot trophy wife, hanging off his arm at every vought function.

every person in america knows homelander and yours' love story (thanks to vought's relentless marketing team): homelander saved you from a bombing and as soon as he landed safely on the ground with you in his arms, it was love at first sight and the rest was history and blah blah blah.

the part maeve can't believe is that you--gorgeous, angelic you--would ever fall for that monster.

you were called a trophy wife for a reason; just looking at you would make most men cream their pants, maeve included. when you spoke, she just stared at your lips. when you walked away, her eyes shamelessly followed you. when you looked at homelander with all that adoration behind your eyes, she wished she had the power to pop his head like neuman. but of course, you were a distant, unattainable fantasy.

homelander had you on a tight leash, always keeping a hand on you at all times and jokingly threatening the life of any executive that even looked at you with a sign of lust. of course, he wasn't joking. he had killed men for simply touching your shoulder.

he also did the usual homelander things: talking over you, sometimes groping you in public, and constantly repeating the story of how the two of you met to anyone who would listen, especially stressing the part where you were a damsel in distress whose life he graciously saved.

because of homelander, maeve decided to admire you from afar. that was until one fateful night.

she was smoking alone in the bathroom after escaping another routine vought event where she was forced to keep up appearances. she had intentionally gone up to the 99th floor, knowing the bathroom would be empty since the event was taking place on a lower floor. that's why she was surprised when she heard another set of heels on the tiles behind her.

"can i get a drag?" you ask as she turns to face you. you're already smiling at her, but not that big, toothy smile you give to all the businessmen. it's a natural one.

she extends her arm to offer you the cigarette, so you walk up to her and accept it. she watches as you bring it to your red lips with ease that only a routine smoker could possess.

"i didn't know you smoked," she says, crossing her arms over her chest. it seems oddly out of character for homelander's perfect housewife.

"i shouldn't. and i didn't used to," you say, the smoke leaving your lips in a short puff. "not before i met homelander. i mean, i of all people should know how bad it is," you say, handing back the cigarette and turning toward the mirror to inspect your appearance.

"what's that supposed to mean?" she asks, her eyes never leaving your face.

"oh, i was a doctor. you know, before all this," you say nonchalantly, fixing your hair. maeve's eyes widen in surprise.

"wait, really?"

"yup," you say, as if you expected her surprise. it makes sense since most people assume homelander's wife is just a pretty face, not someone who once possessed one of the most difficult and esteemed careers. "four years of undergrad, four years of med school, four years of residency, only to practice for one year. what a fucking waste."

well that's why homelander never let you speak—he didn't want everyone to realize you were smarter than him.

"fuck," she says, still a little shocked as she diverts her gaze to look at you through the mirror. "what kind of doctor?"

"ER. shit was crazy but i loved it. and i was good at it. i was always good with the people," you say with a sad smile.

looking back, it makes sense to maeve. you knew how to talk to, but more importantly, listen to, any person that approached you and homelander. you were extremely emotionally intelligent. and obviously book smart as well, considering your profession. you really were everything homelander wasn't.

"because i really cared, y'know? i really wanted to make a difference," you say with the shake of your head. that thought seemed so trivial now.

"it's like looking in a mirror," maeve says, literally looking into the mirror at your reflection. she had never realized how similar the two of you were.

"but then he saved me and suddenly it was all gone."

"they made you stop when you got married?"

"well, he made me stop," you say. she can see the hurt in your eyes. "because you can't be a doctor and homelander's wife. no, that wouldn't be fair to him," you say, a hint of contempt evident in your usually sweet tone.

"asshole," maeve says, the hate far more obvious in her voice. "i never understood why you were with him. i don't think any of us did. and now i'm just more confused."

"well, i could say the same about you," you say, suddenly turning your head to look right at her. "why were you ever with him?"

"because i polled higher when we were together," she answers honestly, getting an endearing smile out of you.

"yeah, i assumed," you say. "although he's still adamant that you were once hopelessly in love with him. i don't wanna burst his bubble, but i always knew you were too good for him."

"we say the same thing about you," maeve says, the beginnings of a smile on her face.

"don't flatter me," you say, pulling your lip gloss out of your bag. "i'll get a big head."

"can't be bigger than his," she quips, relishing in the way she makes you grin.

"true." she watches the applicator glide across your plump lips and then watches you shove it back in the tube. "did i ever tell you you were my favorite?"

"what?"

"in the seven. you were always my favorite. i never paid too much attention to you guys but i was always watching when you were on the tv," you say. "i don't know, maybe it was the armor or something. or maybe the way you always stood like that with your hands on your hips. i don't know. you always did it for me though."

were you saying what she thought you were saying?

"wait," she pauses, turning her body toward you and resting her hip against the counter. "so you had a crush on me?"

"mmm...something like that," you say with a shrug, though the troublesome smile on your face answers her question.

"wow." she crosses her arms over her chest and smirks at you. "does homelander know about this?"

"does he need to know about this?" you ask, turning to face her.

"guess not." there's a beat of silence. "how long ago was this? that you were pining over me," she asks as smugly as ever.

"so i don't think there was any pining involved, actually, but i remember the news would always play at the hospital and...well, yeah, there you were, always distracting me from my work."

"and now here you are," she says, gesturing to your figure while her eyes not so subtly checked you out. "distracting me from my work now."

"oh, am i?" you say, feigning innocence as you take a step closer to her. she was left to wonder, was this your plan all along?

"yeah. now i'm just thinking about you staring up at the screen," she says, entertaining you. her fingers graze your chin. "drooling all over your scrubs. fuck, you'd look so cute in scrubs." you bite your lip, staring up at her with those devilish eyes.

"if only you were there that day instead of him. things would be so different."

"do you wish things were different?" she asks, dropping her hand from your face.

"sometimes," you admit. "little, naive me couldn't see him for what he truly was. but i think i can see you now," you say, your finger poking the skin of her chest as you move impossibly closer.

"yeah?" she mumbles, her eyes obviously flickering between your eyes and your lips as she leans in toward you.

she can't believe she's really doing this. she knows it's a stupid move. homelander's literally downstairs. but you're magnetic.

you abruptly grab her by the back of the neck with both hands and press her lips onto yours. her lips move hungrily against yours, sucking and biting your bottom lip so hard that you're moaning into her mouth. she attaches herself to you, her strong hands grabbing at the back of your dress and pulling your body into her cold armor.

in a second, she's lifting you up and onto the counter. she knows it won't be long before homelander's looking for you, so she needs to make the most out of your fleeting time together. you're well aware of this as you hike your dress up your thighs to save her a few seconds.

she kisses you so hard and feverishly that you're dazed and pulling her further into you by the back of her head. you barely register her hands sliding your now slick panties down your legs.

she pulls away for a moment and stuffs your panties into the breastplate of her suit. it's annoying how put together she looks, meanwhile you're out of breath with your legs spread embarrassingly wide for her.

she gives you a look, as if to verify that you still want this. your slight nod cues her to duck down and face your bare pussy. instantly, she's eating you out like a woman starved. she rapidly tongues your clit, only stopping every once in a while to suck on it harshly. your quiet whimpers are music to her ears, only motivating her to throw your legs over her shoulders and bury her face deeper into your cunt. but then she starts to push a finger into your wet hole.

fuck, you're tight, she thinks. his dick really must be as small as she remembered.

your noises grow louder, prompting her to lift her face from your pussy and shush you like a child. with homelander's super hearing, she can't take any chances, especially when his ears are specifically trained to listen for your honey-sweet voice. you accordingly lift your hand from where it was gripping the edge of the counter and firmly clasp it over your lips, muffling your sounds. just to be safe, you bite down hard on your bottom lip as you lean your head back against the mirror.

maeve leaves a few kisses on your inner thigh as you get used to the intrusion of her long fingers before her lips enclose your clit once more. soon your thighs are spasming around her head and you're crying into your hand as you cum with two of her fingers pumping inside of you and her tongue running circles on your clit.

she should stop your quickie there. she should let you run back to the party and into homelander's arms. but if this was the last time she was gonna fuck you, she was going to make the most of it.

"we got time for another, right?" she asks, though it isn't a question as she adds another finger to your throbbing hole and you release a choked up whine.

maeve really did think that would be the last of it. this was a dangerous game after all, why would you run the risk of playing it twice?

but suddenly you're prancing around the tower more often, whether it's to hand deliver homelander his lunch or attend a fitting for your next red carpet appearance. whatever the cause is, you always bump into maeve, and before you know it, she's guiding you by the waist into to her room to fuck you better than your husband ever could.

"he can't make you cum, can he?" she whispers into your ear, fucking you dumb in missionary. all you can do is shake your head with your eyes squeezed shut, her panties stuffed in your mouth as a gag. "yeah, that's why you keep running back to me, begging me to make you feel good. he can't fuck you like i can."

it carries on like that for a while, you sneaking in and out of maeve's room a few times a week. homelander's oblivious at first, mainly because he ignores your existence most days. but you make a deadly mistake when he rolls over one night, groping your tits in an effort to coerce you into fucking him, and you immediately push him off of you without thinking. that really shocks him, so much so that he just lies there motionless, staring at the ceiling as you drift off.

you never deny him of sex. even when you're not in the mood, you usually just let him use your body or at least rub one out for him. so he really knows something's up when you push him away not just once, but multiple nights, claiming that you're "too tired."

"too tired?" he asks one night, outraged. "you don't fucking do anything! i'm out there saving lives so you can buy all your designer clothes and shoes and jewelry and you can't even fucking thank me by taking my dick down your throat? i fucking made you!" you simply roll your eyes and reach under the covers to grab his cock through his sweatpants. your annoyance makes you grip him hard, just how he likes it.

one odd time, after maeve's just finished fucking the life out of you, you open the door to leave her room, your hair still a little disheveled and your panties missing, only to see homelander leaning against the wall, waiting patiently for you.

"well, she really did a number on you, didn't she?" he asks with an amused smile. you're stood in the doorway frozen and speechless. he looks over your shoulder and makes eye contact with a tense maeve who's standing a few paces behind you.

deep down, you knew you'd get caught eventually. that didn't mean you were prepared for it. "john," you say in an overly soothing tone, reaching out for him as if you're about to start talking him down from one of his tantrums. would this be his breaking point?

"that's why you won't let me touch you, huh? getting fucked too good by queen maeve over here," he says, that terrifying smile never leaving his face.

"i mean, maeve," he says, slow clapping while making direct eye contact with her. he knows she's pissed from the way her jaw locks and her teeth grind together. "just wow. i didn't know she could cum that many times in a row without passing out. you know, you're going to have to teach me that little trick you do with your tongue," he says, pointing at her as if she's just said something witty. "it just drives her crazy. i mean, i could hear her all the way from the first floor. maybe we can...practice on her together next time?" he says as if you're not standing right in front of him. he doesn't miss the way maeve's upper lip twitches in disgust. "what? i can't let my two favorite girls have fun without me," he says, suddenly looking back down at you and petting your cheek with his hand.

maeve wants to say something, anything to put him in his place, but she can't find the words. you're his wife after all, not hers. she doesn't lay any claim to you. but, for some reason, she feels like she should. especially when you belong to someone so disgusting and vile.

things get a little weird once homelander knows. you can tell it irks maeve. the thought of him touching you or even watching her touch you makes her skin crawl. she tries to stay away from you for a little while, but it doesn't last long. whenever she sees you around the tower, she can't help but remember how pretty you looked spread out on her bed, showing off your glistening pussy.

plus it's a bit of a power trip, knowing that she held this one little thing over homelander's head, that little thing being you. so at some point, her desire for you trumps all else.

you're on your knees on the floor, your chin resting on the edge of the bed as you push your face further into maeve's cunt. you can only moan into her, letting your tears mix with her juices as you're being overstimulated by the vibrator that's buried deep inside your pussy. "god, you're useless," she says, grabbing the back of your head and grinding herself on your face. she moans as your nose rubs against her clit and your cries cause vibrations to course through her.

"just want you to come all over my face," you whine, maeve looking down to see your lips and chin coated in her slick. she cums almost immediately, deliciously arching into you with a deep groan.

the mixture of yours and maeve's noises makes homelander cum in his own room with his dick in his hand, so horny from watching and hearing the two of you go at for so long through the walls.

he only settles for watching because you and maeve refuse to let him in on the fun. and he would try to force himself in between you two, but he knows maeve would hit him so hard she'd knock him into next week. so he's content on just observing for now.

that is until he notices something. once the two of you have finished, you're no longer leaving her room, with your heels in your hands, to return to his room. instead, you're lying on your side, your hand dancing up and down maeve's bare arm, with your body tangled in her silky bed sheets. you whisper to each other, noses practically touching, about nothing important in particular.

homelander watches you smile at something she's said and he recognizes it. it's one reminiscent of the smile you had when he held you in his arms for the very first time, landing you safely on the ground so far from the hospital that you couldn't think about the smoke that swallowed the sky and the wreckage littered with bodies. he remembers how in love with you he felt in that moment, the first moment he truly looked at you and knew he must have you. your smile is aged and a little sad now, but he can't imagine that it doesn't reflect the same love and adoration it did all those years ago. and he can't imagine that maeve feels any different than he did at the time.

he sits stoically on the edge of his bed after pulling his sweatpants back up, clenching his fists. he can't let you fall for each other. he may have let maeve have your body, but you are still completely his. and now he must prove it.

this is so juicy i might have to write a part 2...

#queen maeve #queen maeve x reader #the boys #queen maeve smut #queen maeve x fem!reader #wlw #queen maeve x you #the boys x reader #the boys x you #the boys smut #homelander #homelander x reader

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