#I SCREAMED when I started putting together what they were saying
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hoe4hotchner · 18 hours ago
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Not worth the tears | [A.H]
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Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x gn!Reader | WC: 1.6k  | CW: Angst, no use of Y/N, mention of cheating, reader was dating a man, crying.| Summary: reader got cheated on - Hotch is there to pick up the pieces
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The weight of your phone felt heavier than it should have in your hand as you stared at the screen. The text was still there, glaring at you, a brief, emotionless exchange that had just ended your relationship. You couldn't feel much, not at first. There was shock, a numbness that spread through your body like ice. Your partner had cheated— of all things he had cheated. And it wasn’t even a messy confession or an argument where the truth slipped out. It had been revealed so casually like it didn’t matter.
Your thumbs had moved faster than your brain, sending a few bitter replies before cutting off contact completely. Now, you sat alone at your desk, a dull ache blooming in your chest, your breath shallow. He had taken all the air out of your lungs and drained every bit of hope you had put into him. The thought circled through your mind—I tried. I tried for him. I gave everything, but it wasn’t enough.
Your fingers hovered over the keyboard, trembling slightly. The words blurred on the screen, and you blinked back the tears clouding your vision. That was it. It was over. You stared at the empty chat thread—his response was short, dismissive, almost as if what had happened didn’t matter. As if you didn’t matter.
You rubbed your hands over your face, trying to swallow the knot in your throat. You were supposed to be working—on a case, of all things—but the walls of the BAU felt tighter than ever. The world outside of this room, outside of the text that had wrecked your day, seemed far away.
As you leaned back in your chair, your thoughts spun—how long had it been going on? Did the moments you’d spent together mean anything at all? The memories felt tainted now, like ink smeared across a once beautiful piece of art. You'd done everything right. You tried to make it work. But it was over. And it was time to face that truth, even though it burned.
It felt like a punch to the gut, that revelation. He had betrayed you in the worst way possible, and all you got in return was a half-hearted apology and an empty text saying it wasn’t a big deal. You should’ve seen it coming, right? But you’d held on, hoping that things could change, that he could change, despite the cracks that had started to show months ago.
The pain was suffocating. You stood up from your desk, pacing the room, trying to shake off the weight pressing down on your chest. But it wasn’t going away. It was just getting worse. You'd loved him, believed in him, and he tossed you aside like you were nothing. He'd broken you in ways you never thought possible, and now you had to pick up the pieces.
Again.
Your thoughts spiraled as you stared out of the window, lost in a haze of disbelief and hurt. You wanted to scream, to throw something, anything, to just feel something other than this emptiness inside. The room felt too small, too confining, and your heart ached like it was splitting in two. Maybe it was. Maybe that’s what happens when you give someone everything, and they rip it all apart.
The glass door into the BAU creaked open, and Hotch’s presence filled the room before you could even look up. He stepped inside, his brow furrowed, as usual, a file in hand. His eyes scanned over you, a practiced intensity in them, as though he was ready to talk about whatever work issue had brought him here. But then, he stopped.
“Are you okay?” Hotch asked, his voice soft but carrying that steady authority. It wasn’t a question he asked often, and when he did, it was because he already knew the answer. He had this way of reading people—of reading you—like any of the case files that came across his desk.
You tried to swallow the lump in your throat, brushing a hand through your hair as you shook your head. You forced a weak smile, but your throat tightened, betraying the façade. “It’s nothing, Hotch. Just… work stress.” You waved a hand dismissively. But the lie tasted bitter on your tongue. The raw emotion in your voice gave you away, and you knew Hotch could see it. He always could.
He stood there, watching you closely, then set the file down on your desk without a word. It was the first time you'd seen him hesitate. “Something’s wrong. Talk to me.”
You wanted to hide it, to shove the pain down and pretend like you hadn’t just lost someone who wasn’t even worth the heartbreak. But this was Hotch—someone you trusted more than anyone. Your lips parted, and the words came tumbling out before you could stop them.
You felt your walls crumbling, the mask you’d tried to wear falling away as the weight of everything hit you all at once. Your chest tightened, and you tried to hold it in, but the pain surged forward, unstoppable.
“I broke up with him,” you said, your voice trembling. “He… he cheated on me.”
Hotch’s entire body went still. His expression, once concerned, darkened with something else entirely. His jaw clenched, his fingers curling into fists at his sides. It was as though he was holding back from storming out and finding the man who had hurt you. “He what?”
You nodded, the tears you’d been holding back finally spilling over. “I tried, Hotch. I really tried. I wanted it to work, but… it’s over. He didn’t even care.”
The room was heavy with the weight of your admission. You had never seen Hotch angry like this—at least, not for something personal. His dark eyes were clouded, and the controlled, calm leader of the BAU was nowhere to be found. But then, just as quickly as it had come, the anger softened, replaced by something much gentler, much deeper. He stepped closer, his hand reaching out to brush the tears from your cheeks, his touch soft, careful, as if you might break at any moment.
“Did he tell you? Or did you find out another way?”
The look in his eyes was enough to make you swallow thickly. It was protective, fierce, as though he was barely keeping himself together. You hadn’t known it then, but Hotch loved you. And the idea of someone hurting you, betraying you, was enough to make him want to hunt down the bastard who had done it.
“He told me,” you muttered, looking down at your lap. “Like it was nothing. Like I didn’t matter.”
Hotch inhaled sharply through his nose, his hands flexing. For a moment, you could tell he was fighting the urge to walk out and do something rash, something you knew he would regret.
“I'm sorry,” he said quietly, and there was something deeper in his voice, something that made your heart skip a beat. “You didn’t deserve that,” he said quietly, his voice laced with something you couldn’t quite place. “He didn’t deserve you.”
You sniffed, wiping at your face as you tried to pull yourself together. “I just… I don’t know what I did wrong.”
Hotch shook his head. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” his voice was firm. He moved to sit beside you, his presence somehow grounding in all the chaos that had filled your head. “This is on him. Not you.”
The conviction in his voice made your breath hitch. You stared at him, taking in the intensity of his gaze, the way he looked at you as if you were the most important thing in the world. Your heart twisted painfully. You had never seen him like this before.
“He wasn’t worth your time,” Hotch continued, his tone softening even more. “You deserve someone who will fight for you, someone who will never hurt you like that.”
You could feel yourself breaking down again, the tears coming back, and you didn’t fight them this time. You didn’t have the strength to. Instead, you let yourself fall, collapsing into Hotch’s arms as he caught you without hesitation. He pulled you close, holding you tightly against his chest, his hand stroking your back in soothing circles.
For the first time all day, you felt safe. The ache in your heart hadn’t gone away, but being here, with Hotch, made it bearable. He didn’t say anything more, just held you, and somehow, that was enough.
For a few moments, neither of you said anything. You couldn’t bring yourself to speak, and he seemed to understand that you needed the silence.
“I wanted it to work,” you whispered between sobs. “I really wanted it to work.”
“I know,” he said softly, his hand soothing as he rubbed slow circles on your back. “You deserve so much more than what he gave you.”
As he held you, a thought crossed your mind—Hotch had always been there. He had always cared, always looked out for you. And as he held you now, his heartbeat steady beneath your cheek, you wondered if maybe he had cared more than you’d realized.
You lifted your head slightly, meeting his gaze. There was something in his eyes, something soft and warm, but it wasn’t pity. It was deeper than that. It was understanding. It was… love.
You blinked, trying to process the moment, but the sadness and exhaustion weighed you down too much to explore it further. Instead, you leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder. Hotch didn’t hesitate.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, though you weren’t sure why.
Hotch shook his head, his expression tender. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”
He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, and for a moment, the world didn’t feel so broken. In his arms, you could breathe again, and maybe—just maybe—your heart wasn’t beyond repair after all.
Because even though everything had fallen apart, Hotch was there to help you pick up the pieces. And this time, you weren’t alone.
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starboye · 23 hours ago
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starring: carmy berzatto x male reader
request: Could I request the bear Dom top Daddy Carmy and Sub bottom femboy 18 year old male reader who started working at the restaurant and always wears sexy slutty little outfits so one night when they're alone carmy can't control himself the scraps are either by the hair starts kissing him turns reader around hikes up his skirt eats the reader out and it forces him to his knees and Carmy just starts face fucking telling Male reader be Daddy's good little slut armies then comes in the Reader's mouth forcing him to swallow it all picks the Reader up turns him around and then grabs him by the throat just starts f****** him reader screaming yes daddy so Carmy says I'm going to get you pregnant and fills them with so much cum that it's leaking out then he asked the needed to be his boyfriend/baby boy maybe as a bonus the next morning while they're working car meets at the counter cutting up food talking to customers and male reader's underneath the station sucking Carmy's cock and forces his whole cock and holds the reader head as he starts coming down his throat with cum kink Daddy kink semi-public sex rough sex and hair pulling kink
warnings: smut, femboy!reader, cursing, daddy kink, ass slapping, rough sex, deppthroat, face fucking, cum eating, ass eating
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you were everything carmy wanted and more, your body made him absolutely feral, all he wanted to do was grope at you and feel your body, fuck you just always had to dress slutty when you came to work huh? he felt like you knew what you did to him but just acted dumb.
and although you were the new employee he took a much bigger interest in you rather than his other employees, the way you wore the shortest skirts that left nothing to imagination and no matter how many times richie tried to tell carmy to tell you to wear something more appropriate but he just waved him away and kept taking sneaky looks at yours ass.
but on one lucky night you and carmy were the only ones left in the restaurant after everyone called it a night, you in the back cleaning up the stations while carmy was in the front sweeping up all the trash that people somehow left, leaning back to peek into the kitchen and seeing you bent over picking up a dropped hand towel.
sneaking up behind you and spooking you a bit "oh fuck you scared me carmen" you say coming down from your shock, carmy who couldn't hold himself together for another second just pulls you into a kiss, his tongue roaming around in your mouth as his hands find their way to your ass "you're so damn hot" he huffs lifting your skirt and flicking your skimpy underwear onto your hole.
"can i fuck you" he asks finally pulling from your lips and all you could give was a lazy yes but that's all carmy needs before he's pushing you down on your knees and unzipping his pants to pull down his underwear and whip out his aching dick ans shoving your mouth on it, working your head back and forth on his length to lube it up some more to fuck you.
"yeah just like that fuckkk" he huffs satisfied by your surprising mouth skills, taking him all the way to the shaft with his balls repeatedly slapping your chin while you gag out moans "good boy you love being daddy's good little slut" he says giving one more big thrust and shooting his cum in your mouth, pushing your head to make sure you take every drop before lifting you up back on your feet.
turning you around and putting your hands on the counter and sliding his way into your hole, your moans filling the empty kitchen quickly, he tightly grabs your throat and tilts your head up to look at him, your back arched in the most perfect way for him to get as deep as possible.
"you like this dick huh baby" he smirks "yes daddy i love it so fucking much" you whine mixed with some struggled grunts as he slams back into you again and again "im gonna fill you up and get you all big and pregnant, you want that" carmy asks while his thrusts become more erratic "mhm breed me full of your cum carmy" you yell and carmy obliges, spilling his load into your hole until it was spilling out slightly.
you both sit therefor a couple minutes catching your breath before carmy drops to his knees and spreads your cheeks open and starts eating you out, feeding off his delicious cum that he just gave you "i thought you wanted me to get pregnant" you ask smiling "i can give you another load later tonight" he smacks your ass and gets back on his feet but not with out a little souvenir aka your underwear.
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taglist:@mailmango @spermeboy @ghostking4m @gayaristocrat @addictedtomalepits @staarb0y @crispysoup318 @its-ares @gargoylesworld09 @znerac
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mmkclarkey · 3 days ago
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We have a spare room- Part 3
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When all goes wrong, moving in with three guys will solve it?
It had been three months since you moved in with three random men, all of which having their own weird affect on you. Chris had quickly become the person you went to when you wanted to talk about Taylor swift or Chappell Roan or anything of the sort, he loved the fact that you didn’t judge him for his feminine side. And you loved the fact that he allowed you to rant about anything to him, always giving the best rants back.
This however meant that you had to judge him for something else, now if there’s one thing you learnt about Chris, it’s that he’ll test his luck, he had the tendency to be a dick to his friends. Arthurtv told you about that one time in school when Chris told the girl Arthur liked that they were in a gay relationship, much to the girl’s dismay.
The way to combat this you may ask? Chris does something wrong, he has to put £1 in the jar, they stole the idea, some show called new girl apparently?
Besides Chris, Arthur was the best person to go to if you wanted something interesting, he had this amazing ability to be able to make you laugh at the most random times. Like the time last week where you were all arguing over the shared bathroom, having the biggest shower you tended to argue over who was going to use it when you go out. Arthur fully started to strip off naked, making you all leave as he shouted that he’d flash you all if you didn’t let him use the shower. In the end, you George and Chris sat on the floor outside the bathroom laughing for nearly an hour.
And then there’s George. George was the classic, blast music and go to parties and drink kind of guy. Somehow you found yourself roped into going to yet another influencer party at least once a week, however, you can’t exactly say that you didn’t like it. Aswell as this, he was absolutely amazing at giving advice, about anything, you had problems with filming? George knew what to do. you had no idea what to wear? he did. It was shocking how good the man was at just daily advice, it made you really appreciate the fact that you have him as a friend now.
~
You had uploaded a video three days ago where you were playing a horror game on Roblox, which you didn’t see an issue with and as usual got the views you were used to. But today? Today it peaked, around 9000 more people liked it in just the one day.
Then came the comments. and that’s where you realised your mistake. At one point you scream particularly loud and George (being the only other person in the flat at the time) shouts in from his room asking if everything was okay, to which you laugh and shout through that you are making a video and you’re okay. And this would be absolutely no issue if it wasn’t for the fact that your editor left it in, and your viewers, and just people people in general, did not know that you had moved out of your old flat let alone moved in with another man.
This caused a shocking amount of people to guess that you must have broken up with your boyfriend, and got with George almost straight away, and that’s why he’s in your house, concerned whether you’re okay. It didn’t take long for George to be knocking at your door, asking if you were decent so he could come in.
“I’m decent George, come in”
“So… I saw your comments” he says while sitting down on the bed, a bit of a red look on his face, clearly just back from being outside.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t realise my editor left it in, i’m making a tiktok literally in a minute to tell people that we aren’t together, it just means explaining why I’m here” you say back in an apologetic tone, aware of how overwhelming the fans can be sometimes.
“It’s fine, I promise, do you think we should get us all in the vid just to prove it a bit?” he asks with a curious tone.
You make the decision to do so, making everyone group together on the sofa as you set up your phone, pressing record.
“So… hey guys, i’m making a quick short video to address some things i guess? for reference, I made a video last week that was released three days ago, and in it, George here asked me if i was okay, which is lovely, but we are just friends.”
Arthur giggles and says “We’re all just friends, she just wanted to hide from you guys that she moved out of her old place”
Chris chimes in “Yeah, so if anyone, preferably three girls and a guy want to come wife up this flat feel free”
“Chris shut the fuck up” All three of you say in response, yet all laughing too.
“So yeah, I moved in with Chris, George and Arthur and I guess that’s where I am now, hope this clears things up and I love you all”
You post the video and the comments come in immediately:
this quad is literally iconic
we all know why she moved in with three guys
chris is so Schmidt coded argue with the wall
i’m so glad to see you living your best life baby omg!!
they are such iconic friends we need more videos together
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N i am so incredibly sorry, i’ve been completely procrastinating this, i hope we like it!! also can we notice the fourth wall break xx
taglist: @loveheart-123 @ooostarwarsfandom501st @rougetv @le-le-lea @onlinesuzie @44-ilton @chilwellsancho @pretendyoucantseeme @theresglittleronthefloor @raekensluver @viagracex @neivivenaj @authortelevision
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lilyyy123 · 18 hours ago
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Merry Christmas baby~ m.s
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Warnings ⚠️: slapping, rough sex, mean Matt, dom Matt x sub reader, squirting, unprotected p in v
Summary: matts girlfriend has been pushing his buttons all day so he gets payback
A/n: this is so bad and I haven't read it over to if there's any mistakes don't mind it 😇
You were sitting next to the tree with Matt unwrapping presents you got for each other. This was your guys first Christmas together so you wanted to make it special. After you had unwrapped the presents and thanked each other you decided to go outside in the snow.
You and Matt put on your warm clothes and gloves before heading out the back door to your garden. As you walk outside your immediately hit with the cool winter breeze, the snow beneath your feet crunching as you step on it. Matt stands a few feet away, watching you play in the snow like a child when all of a sudden he feels a hard, cold ball of snow hit his face. He wipes the snow away, his nose and cheeks rosy red as he looks up at you with an unimpressed look on his face. As you look at him you can tell he's mad, you've been pushing his buttons all day by giving him attitude subtly (that didn't go unnoticed by him) and just being a brat in general but he hasn't said anything yet because it's Christmas and he wants you to have a good time but this was his last straw.
He walks over to you and grabs you by the arm, yanking you inside. You gasp as he pulls you through the door and into the living room, throwing you down on the sofa. "Matt what are you doing?" You ask quietly. "I'm gonna fuck that stupid little attitude out of you and you're not gonna say a fucking word while I do" he replies in a rough tone, grabbing your jacket and pulling it off you. He grabs you and flips you over so your laying on your stomach before grabbing the waistband of your pajama pants and pulling them down, revealing the lacy black thong you had picked out earlier that morning. He groans at the sight of it before delivering a hard slap on your ass. You gasp and let out a small whine before he yanks down your panties, revealing your dripping wet folds to his gaze.
He pulls down his own pants, his hard erection springing free and hitting his stomach. He reaches his hand down, stroking himself and swiping his thumb over his pretty pink tip a few times before running it along your entrance but not pushing in yet. He pushes the tip in before pulling out again, repeating the action a few times. You lift your head off the sofa to look at him over your shoulder "Matt can you just-" he cuts you off by delivering a sharp slap to your cheek before pushing your head back into the sofa. "Don't you remember what I said huh? Not a fucking word from that pretty little mouth of yours." You keep your head against the sofa while gripping the cushions. He slowly pushes in your entrance half way before pulling out again. You whine in response, knowing deep down you deserve it for being a brat.
He pushes in again, bottoming out with a groan before he starts moving his hips. You let out a small whimper as the tip of his cock kisses your cervix. "Oh my god" you moan before he puts his hand on the back of your head, pushing you down into the sofa. The sound of your muffled moans and skin slapping together filling the room. You go to say something before Matt pushes your head into the sofa more "what was that baby? Not so confident now huh?" He groans as he picks up his thrusts, slamming into your tight hole. You gasp and reach behind you to slow him down, he grabs both your hands and pin them to your back. He pushes down, forcing you to arch even more. "Oh Matt fuck!" You practically scream as he hits a deeper spot inside you because of the new angle. "Shut the fuck up." He snaps at you through gritted teeth. He stops thrusting for a second to get his bearings. "Oh fuckkkk" he growls before he starts thrusting again. You start to feel a familiar feeling in your stomach. With another hard thrust you feel the knot in your stomach break, clear liquid gushing out of you and all over his cock before he buries himself deep inside you. Filling you with his white, sticky load.
He pulls out, watching his load ooze out of your tight hole. Catching his breath before grabbing a tissue to clean you up and pulling you into his lap. "Merry Christmas baby" he chuckles.
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housewarningparty · 1 day ago
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🖤 / Fuffy / Glass
em, you're diabolical
cw: cancer
-
“Buffy?” Faith’s voice is tentative, soft.
“I’m okay,” Buffy says, perfectly calm. There’s no reason to freak Faith out. She needs to hold it together, needs to stay— 
The glass shatters before Buffy even realizes she’d picked it up, a spray of shards erupting from her fist like sharp, dangerous confetti. Her palm is sliced to shreds and there’s blood, suddenly, and no, god, no it’s all going wrong. 
She lets go of the shards and suddenly Faith is there, a hand on her wrist, whispering in her ear, soothing nonsense — it’s okay, we’re alright, it’s okay— as she guides Buffy’s hand to the sink, under the faucet. Buffy barely feels the cold water, barely feels the pain from the wound, just stares at Faith’s hands guiding hers, so carefully, spreading Buffy’s palms flat, rinsing the wound, gently brushing away stray pieces of glass.
In a daze, she lets Faith settle her at the kitchen island in one of those stupid, too-high bar stools Faith thought were so badass looking (“They remind me of this dive I used to go to.”). Faith wraps her hand in a towel, holding it tight against her until the bleeding starts to slow.
“Do you wanna go to the hospital?” Faith asks.
Buffy wants to scream.
Surprisingly, she laughs at the irony. Giddy, hard laughter that, judging by the way Faith flinches, is probably kind of manic and scary. Buffy’s not sure at what point the laughter turns to something else, but suddenly she can’t breathe through the snot in her nose, cant’ see through the tears blurring her vision.
Faith is right there with her, the hand not staunching Buffy’s bleeding is cupping Buffy’s jaw, dragging her forward. Buffy doesn’t expect the kiss, not when she’s gross like this, ugly-crying and falling apart, but she can’t bring herself to pull away. She leans in, struggles to catch her breath and kisses Faith desperately, like she might not get another chance to do it.
“It’s okay,” Faith whispers, shushing Buffy gently, kissing her again and again, soft, soft, soft. “We’ll figure it out, B.”
“You can’t figure out cancer,” Buffy bites out, hating herself for how harsh she sounds, but hating Faith a little too for having the gall to say that to her of all people. Not when Buffy knows better.
“Doc says it’s treatable,” Faith protests. “Chemo and maybe a surgery. Other stuff too, maybe, I don’t know. They’re doing some more tests. Plus, y’know, with the slayer stuff — I might have a real shot.”
Might.
Buffy wants to crumple to the floor. She wants to wail and scream. Make a pact with a demon. Fix this. Undo this.
She wants to wake up.
“I don’t wanna tell a bunch of people yet,” Faith says. “I wanna know more. But I couldn’t keep it from you. I just… Fuck, I wish I wasn’t doing this to you. I’m sorry.”
“But you quit,” Buffy protests, as if she can reason their way out of this. Faith hadn’t smoked a pack of cigarettes in at least three years. “You don’t even…”
Faith shrugs, offers a helpless, little wobbly smile that doesn’t meet her eyes.”Day late, dollar short.”
“Will you take this seriously?” Buffy snaps.
“I think you’re taking it serious enough for both of us,” Faith says, smiling infuriatingly when Buffy scowls at her.
“Faith, please…”
“I know,” Faith says. She reaches across the counter to yank a paper towel off the dispenser and offers it to Buffy, waits patiently for her to blow her nose before continuing. “I know what this is to you. I wish it was something else. I wish…”
“I don’t know if I could take losing you,” Buffy says. It hurts to even say it out loud. She thinks of all the time they wasted — five good years together since the fall of Sunnydale, since they figured out what they could mean to each other. It’s not enough time. Buffy hasn’t been able to love her long enough.
“I’d put a bullet in my brain,” Faith says, so suddenly, so bluntly, so matter of factly that it startles a laugh out of Buffy. “I’m dead serious. But you’re not like that, Buff. You were always stronger than me. You’d make it.”
Buffy shakes her head. She hates where this is going, dreads the thought of continuing the conversation, of arguing with Faith over whether any of that is true at all. She doesn’t feel strong right now in the least.
Faith must read something of it on her face because she leans in again and kisses Buffy once more. This one is deep, lingering, sweet. When she pulls away, Faith is breathing a little shakier but smiling. “We’re getting ahead of ourselves. You’re not giving up on me this early, are you, B?”
“No,” Buffy says. She swallows hard, past all the fears crowding her chest, the ice cold terror that hasn’t let go of her heart since Faith said the words Hey, there’s something we gotta talk about. But she means it. Faith needs her to say this. Needs her to mean it. “No, I’m not giving up on you, Faith.”
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purgaytorysupremacy · 4 months ago
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I just started the series finale of Black Sails and if Thomas Hamilton is the prisoner they’re looking for on that farm I’m going to DIE.
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fingertipsmp3 · 9 months ago
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I’m gonna be completely real with you. For the past couple of weeks I have been neck deep in the Ice Planet Barbarians series with no end in sight
#i don’t know what ms ruby dixon put in these books but it’s like crack to me#i think it’s the balance of predictability vs there being a journey#like i know these two are going to get together and be fated mates but i don’t know when or how it’s going to happen#and she keeps switching up the formula just enough that i’m not sure what exactly the vibe is going to be each time#i’m on maddie’s book and it might be my favourite so far just because of how dramatic the earthquake was#and i liked that SOMEONE finally asked if any of the men were getting it on with each other because i mean……#there’s two dozen hunters who thought they were NEVER going to get a mate and you’re telling me NONE of them fucked. suspicious#i also really liked when hassen was saying about how maddie throws stuff at people when she’s mad and then he says ‘now that is a woman’#like honestly. yeah. too many of these men have been like ‘oh i love my small delicate human mate :)’ and hassen is like#‘this fat bitch who screams at people? i want her. she’s mine’ because bro honestly that would be me#i’d either be ms ariana screaming and crying at any stimuli; maddie throwing stuff at people; or maybe a combo of the two#which i think is probably liz#what else do i have to say about this… i mean honestly i am a vektal apologist. the man needs a raise. he is dealing with TOO MUCH bullshit#and from too many people. whenever some guy pipes up like ‘my mate is pregnant i can’t do that’ i’d be like ‘man EVERYBODY is pregnant#read the fucking room’#i’m not saying i like vektal i’m just saying i understand him and i feel bad for him and i’m impressed that he hasn’t started killing#that’s about it. uh. i’m going to finish this one and then read the spinoffs before i proceed#personal#**not the spinoffs. the novellas. the babies etc
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fmhobeus · 9 months ago
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so, nerdy loser college boy choso *sighs* *opens legs*
a/n: just so you know, this man is gonna make you do all the hard work for a piece of that loser boy dick 😮‍💨 so... um so at some point around 2000 words in i realised this is way more than a hc post :3 eat it up if you will!
nerdy!choso who borderline has no friends except his gaming buddies who doesnt meet irl like ever. he doesnt like going to classes, especially this one. he doesnt need it but it's a requirement for all first years. and boy is glad it is when he sees you come in.
nerdy!choso who only listens to discussions when you're talking. suddenly he needs to put down his headphones and nod at every word you're saying. his eyes follow every gesture of your hand, every sway of your ass, every single time you fix your hair.
nerdy!choso who is starting to get a bit enamored with you, your style, your way of speaking. he loses track of time gawking at you in class from the last benches as you prettily do all the work in the class. he hates how beautifully your hair falls on your face, how nicely your clothes fit you despite being pretty modest for college. he hates how he can see the silhouette of your tits when you turn to the side. but he's too much of a gentleman to keep looking.
nerdy!choso who ends a game early when he remembers you, lying and saying that he had promised someone to meet them somewhere. the place is his bathroom and the person was you. god, you really shouldn't wear those tight jeans to class y'know? how will he continue to be a gentleman if you do?
nerdy!choso who despises groupwork but prays to dear god this class has some reason to pair you two together. he's getting so desperate to talk to you knowing damn well he too pussy to do it on his own. and the lord answers his prayers, the teacher assigns groups of three for a presentation. it's you, him and some slacking trust fund baby.
nerdy!choso who is about to combust and have a full blown panic attack when he sees you approach him after class with that smile on your face that would make the angels swoon. you're going on about distributing the work equally and what not while he is trying his fucking hardest to not accidently make eye contact with you and piss his pants : (
nerdy!choso who now has your name, your number and your email and he feels like the happiest man on earth. his hands are literally shaking as he responds to your request to call. he's overthinking every word he types.
choso: yeah i can do wednesday. choso: i'll be okay with whatever day you want.
nerdy!choso who hops on video call and short circuits with a view of you in an oversized band tee and a brief view of your room. why did you have to be this pretty? why did you have to video call him when you couldve done the work on text? why did you have to put your hair up like that? why oh why did you have you say "choso? hey, you there?" so seductively to bring him back to the present?
nerdy!choso who gets like no work done in a 30 minute call which felt like three hours. he knew he would hardly be paying attention so decided to record the call with your consent, saying he'd need the notes you were typing out on screen only to play it back and stroke his dick to you for what might've have been the twentieth time this week. his strokes only getting faster as you say his name in that voice he imagines sounds way better moaning and screaming it instead.
nerdy!choso who, after the presentation, is on greeting terms with you when he sees you studying in the library. he sits as far away from you as he can while still being able to see you. occupying the coziest corner of the library to stare at you study right when you come up to him.
"can i join you, choso? i'm all alone and your space seems comfy" you say with a smile, "of course, i dont mean to disturb you, is saw you were on your own too, so..."
uh oh, uh oh, uh oh. god no. please no. please dont say yes. please dont be staring at her like some dumb idiot (too late) please.
"uh... yeah sure why not?" he awkwardly says as he makes room for you to keep your things. he was such an idiot for thinking he could say no to your pretty face in the first place.
nerdy!choso who is absolutely drunk on your scent. it feels way better than any alcohol he's ever had. he feels like an animal in heat when he smells your sugary perfume mixed with the styrofoam-y air conditioned smell of the library. you're gonna kill him, yknow? how is he supposed to respond to this? what is one to do when their stupid college crush sits next to them? he gives you a half smile before furiously typing away on reddit, the only place with answers for losers like him.
nerdy!choso whose hands. oh his hands. (can be i a big whore for a second?) his long hands that feel like they're the size of your face. his kempt, beautiful and trimmed nails. his lengthy fingers that seem to yearn for something more to foddle with than just the keyboard or controller. he typed as such an insane pace it made your pussy ache. he was going so fast, jesus. those hands were meant to do more than just ask "how to talk to girls" on reddit.
nerdy!choso who (on the advice of reddit) asks if you would want him to order something for you. you tell you had a frappuccino not too long ago and that it was quite sweet and filling. and he hates himself for thinking that he could give you something much sweeter and filling than that like a horny fourteen year old.
nerdy!choso who is now determined to not come off as a creep so he does his work with the focus of four adderalls. he is typing as fast as his heartbeat, not realising he got two classes worth of work done in just an hour. he looks over at you, blissfully unaware of the absolute war in his mind.
nerdy!choso who feels as though if he doesn't muster up the courage to ask you out right then and there, he'll probably be the biggest loser on the planet. (as if he wasn't already)
nerdy! pathetic! choso who stutters a million times and barely gets the job done then too. his eyes are scanning your entire being (trying his best to not gawk at your tits) for any sign of discomfort.
"so- uhh so ummm... wo-would you, like, uh... like to do this again? sometime?... i got a.. a lot of work done today, so.."
oh heavens, the sheer nervousness in his tone makes you want to pull his pants down and show him how to really get work done.
you agree with a smile, even suggesting a better, more ambient (more romantic) cafe to study in. choso's heart is about to burst and flood the fucking library with his blood the way it is beating at an alarming rate.
"umm yeah uh 5 sounds... awesome... i hope it isn't a-a bother to you?" "no way, choso. i loved today," you offer him a smile as you gather your things, "i really like your hair, by the way" "i like your hair too, y-y-you smell very nice", he gulps.
fuck. why did he say that? what? you smell nice? who says that? is he like ten? you can't help but giggle at the sheer embarassment on his face.
he feels as though he's gonna melt into a puddle and turn to stone and throw up all at the same time.
nerdy!choso who is the most stupidly hot guy you've ever met, you think as you go giggling back to your dorm. mental note: pick a skimpy outfit for 5pm ;)
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musical-chick-13 · 1 year ago
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If I'm not careful, I'm going to get salty about stupid music opinions again.
#OTHER people's music opinions. not mine. MINE are great OBVIOUSLY.#OKAY OKAY. people can disagree with me over the quality of art that is ALWAYS 100% FINE#I just...idk. you can usually tell when the opinions are based on a sense of entitlement and elitism and like...EXTREMELY bad-faith#interpretations? most music opinions I disagree with are from the standpoint of just.#not understanding what the artist was trying to do or willfully ignoring the good parts because it wasn't specifically what YOU the#INDIVIDUAL LISTENER wanted.#(or--not quite as common but still prevalent--refusing to acknowledge the bad because that makes you feel better)#the thing is. when people who ACTUALLY thoughtfully put together lists/opinion pieces--critics like todd or diamond axe studios#or mr 96--even if I disagree with them they make their case in clear terms to the point where I see where they're coming from#you know like *I* didn't see the song this way (for good or for bad) but I can see how THEY would#plenty of people uh...do not approach music opinions like that lol. they'll just#call a band/artist a sell-out without looking at the wider context of their discography or evaluating possible reasons WHY#they would choose to move in that musical direction. they also. MUCH OF THE TIME. don't clarify what they MEAN when they say that either#(also people are waaaaaayyy too precious about clear genre divisions imo but. I don't have the brainspace to fully discuss that rn)#like ''sell-out'' doesn't mean 'has a poppier or more electronic sound' I'm gonna have to put that term on the shelf with the rest of them#unhinged lady screams about music#ugh I really gotta finish that 'discussing the best and worst of the punk goes pop/rock/etc. albums' project I started#(remember those? they sure were a thing that happened!)#maybe THAT'S the New Year's Resolution™ finish a fucking music critique video like I keep saying I will
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buckyalpine · 5 months ago
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18+ Minors dni. I'm currently obsessed with the thought of Bucky making his pretty girl take it. I'm talking him keeping you caged under him with your legs wrapped around his waist while his arm are wrapped tightly around your body. This type of energy comes out when he's pissed. Stressed. Jealous. He's going to remind you exactly who you belong to and my favourite thing about this is imagine you didn't even know what happened. Maybe he overheard some agents talking about how irresistible you are. So cute and pretty and they'd give anything to-
Nope. The thought alone of anytone touching what's his has him storming off, hauling you over to mark you in the most primal way possible. Remind everyone who you belong to. He plucks you up from whatever you're doing and carries you over his shoulder like a beast; you're naked on his bed seconds later. He plows into you, hips slamming his cock into your very soaked cunt, unapologetically fucking you with the deepest moans. He sounds so feral. He is feral.
"Feels-so-good, such a good girl, letting me put my big dick in you"
Those grunts and groans he lets out show just how selfish he's being because he's focused on how fucking good you're making his dick feel. You're so soft but you make his cock so hard. You're such an angel for him, spreading your legs for him the second he set you down. He'd been torn between wanting to ravish you immediately or taking a second to throw his clothes off. He decides he needs you to fucking smell like him when this is all over, have every bit of his scent covering your skin. He wants to feel every bit of you all over him.
No one else would ever get to have you like this. Feel your naked breasts on their chest. Feel your soft tummy press against theirs. Feel the plushness of your thighs squeezing their waist. Feel your silky walls squeeze and milk their cocks till they're all soft and sensitive.
They'd hear you though.
They'd hear every moan and Bucky would make sure of that.
"Whose cock is making you scream baby, tell me" He growls, your combined arousal making a mess on the bed.
"Y-OURS-" You hiccup, choking back a sob as he snakes his had to wrap around your throat. Damn right. His fucking cock. His dick in your pussy. Not the stupid little boys who think they have a chance to even breathe the same air. His pretty, pink, fat fucking cock destroying you to his heart's content, stretching you open as much as he wants. "J-JAMES"
"That's right, say my name baby, say the name of your man who fucks you this good, let everyone hear" He's already turned off all the sound proofing and maybe he left his door a crack open. Maybe.
"Jaamesss" You sound so gone, cockdrunk over the way the spongy head of his dick kisses that sensitive spot that makes you squirt cream with each of his thrusts. "Don't st-stop, please-fuck-me-Jamie" Your voices slurs and turns into a whine as your eyes roll back. For such a sweet princess, you sound like an absolute slut when he's inside you and he wouldn't have it any other way.
"Mhphhm, sound so pretty, gonna make me blow, let me empty my balls in you" He starts to fuck you faster causing the headboard to shake, the whole bed creaking with his movements. "M'gonna cum angel-oh shittt-"
He nearly whimpers when he feels your doe eyes looking up at him with your ankles locked around his waist; he knows exactly what that means.
"You want it inside you huh, want my cum in you baby, s'that it?"
"Want-it-please, can't hold it" you cling onto him tighter and Bucky can't last any longer.
"Cum with me, together, c'mon angel, cum with me, yes, fuck yes, can feel you-fuck-" He begs, needing those little boys who spoke about you to hear exactly what they're missing out on, "OH GOD, FUCKKK" He doesn't hold back as he gives into his orgasm, your name dripping of his lips while you sob and squeal.
I want him to give you the softest aftercare. Tell you what a good girl you were for him. How much he loves and adores you, how special you are to him.
I want him to have the most smug expression on his face when he goes back down. He's such a little shit. He passes by a cackling Tony and a wheezing Sam. Not one agent dares look him in the eye. Steve may be blushing but he'll give credit where credit is due. His best friend sent a very clear message. Bucky is a possessive, loving, horny little shit and I need it.
Need it now.
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leaderwonim · 6 months ago
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❀﹐𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐍𝐎𝐖
pairing: park sunghoon x fem!reader
synopsis: in which married couple park sunghoon and park y/n are on their way to court to divorce when they suddenly get into a car crash, losing their memories entirely. over time, they start to fall inlove with each other all over again.
genre: angst, exes to lovers + strangers to lovers (ynhoon are soulmates your honor!!) fluff
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“You are the most immature person I have ever met!” You shout, “I should’ve never married you in the first place!”
“Finally, something we can both agree on.” Sunghoon seethes, and you just know the taxi driver is uncomfortable by the way he’s awkwardly looking in the car mirror.
The both of you crossed your arms stubbornly, huffing like little children who just threw a tantrum.
The only reason why you and Sunghoon were getting a divorce in the first place was because he was so busy at his office, inheriting the CEO position from his father just months earlier.
You felt lonely, and it really didn’t help that Sunghoon didn’t give you any reassurance because he was too tired.
“Aish, why is this red light taking so long?” Sunghoon angrily mumbles underneath his breath.
“Well maybe it’s your negative energy.”
“Can you be mature once in your life?” Sunghoon snaps back.
The taxi driver, very annoyed with the both of you, continues driving when the light turns green.
Then all of a sudden, a car rams through the intersection, crashing directly into the taxi.
You scream, and Sunghoon instantly puts his arms around your frame, shielding you.
Then, all goes black.
For a second, you could see the day that you and Sunghoon got married.
It was a Sunday, at the beautiful church nearby Sunghoon’s parents house, and you were wearing what Sunghoon called the most beautiful dress he’d ever seen. It was plain white, but long and so beautifully designed that it didn’t need any other colors.
When you arrived at the altar, Sunghoon had bursted into tears. Some of his friends, Jake, who had traveled all the way from Australia to attend, patted the boy on back as comfort.
That day was nonetheless the happiest day of your life. You don’t know if Sunghoon feels the same, and looking back, it feels like such a shame that you’re throwing it all down the drain.
❀﹐
BLEEP. BLEEP.
Your body jolts awake, head practically killing you with the amount of ache it produced as you tried to sit up.
“Patient is up!” The nurse says before walking into your room with a tray. “Good morning, are you feeling okay?”
You raise your hands to touch your head, which was bandaged by some soft tissue material.
“Where am I?” You say, looking around the room. You spot a unknown man groggily getting up, and for a second, you can’t help but notice how handsome he was.
That was besides the point, though.
“You’re in the hospital.” The nurse says, smiling softly. “Do you remember the events leading up to this?”
“I.. I don’t remember anything, actually.”
The nurse still smiles at you reassuringly. “It’s alright lovebug, it seems as though you two have lost your memories.”
“Us two?” You question.
“Yes.” She points to the guy on the other bed right next to you who just looked like he woke up from death. He too looked badly injured like you, having a broken hand and bandage around his head. “Park Sunghoon-ssi was in the same car as you and got injured as well.”
Park Sunghoon. Why did that name sound so familiar?
“Well since you're both awake," she said, relief evident in her voice. "You've been in an accident. Do you remember anything Sunghoon-ssi?”
Sunghoon shook his head slowly. "No... I don't remember anything."
The nurse nodded, sympathy in her eyes. “It's not uncommon for victims to lose their memories after a traumatic accident. Memory loss can be temporary. Just focus on resting for now.”
The nurse leaves the room, leaving you and Sunghoon alone.
“She said we were in the same car together,” you say slowly. “But I really can’t remember what you are to me.”
Sunghoon shrugs. “Me either. All I remember vividly is my parents. You must’ve been an acquaintance of mine, then.”
You nod, stretching your limbs. “You got more injured than me.”
He lets out an airy chuckle, lifting his broken arm which was in a cast into the air. “Yep, broken arm.”
You want to remember so badly what had happened leading up to all of this. What were you doing? Where were you going, and why were you with this Park Sunghoon guy in the first place?
“What did you get for breakfast?”
Sunghoon breaks the silence between the two of you, and you slowly look down at the tray in front of your bed.
“Uh, the nurse got me tiramisu and oatmeal.”
“Tiramisu?” Sunghoon’s mood automatically brightens up. “Can we please switch sweets? I really love tiramisu.”
You laugh at his childlike behavior, but nod anyway. “I’ll bring it to you Sunghoon, wait.”
You don’t know why, but it feels so right saying his name. Sunghoon must’ve felt the same way, because he swore his mouth went dry at you calling out his name.
You carefully make your way out your hospital bed, making sure not to accidentally detach any monitors that were attached to you. Grabbing the tiramisu cup, you make your way over to Sunghoon, who’s already shaking in excitement.
Then you make your way back, opening the lid of your oatmeal bowl.
“I may not know what happened in the accident,” Sunghoon says. “But I know this tiramisu is so fucking good.”
You shake your head, laughing at his words. “Yah Sunghoon, you think we were best friends before all of this?”
“Maybe.” He mutters, the mascarpone cheese of the tiramisu leaving a mark on the side of his lips.
“Well our humor is alike.” You say. “Would explain why we were in the same car together. Maybe we were going out to lunch.”
The rest of the day was spent with Sunghoon and you cracking jokes then and there, the awkwardness of the two of you being strangers quickly faded.
❀﹐
The next day, you were given tiramisu once again while Sunghoon was given cookies.
You descended from your bed, once again, and gave the tiramisu cup to Sunghoon while you grabbed his bag of cookies.
“You know what’s funny?” You say, biting into the warm chocolate chip cookie.
“What?” He says, although it’s muffled from the amount of tiramisu he’s stuffed into his mouth.
“Yah, you gotta stop doing that, it’s gross.”
Sunghoon sticks his tongue out at you, which makes you giggle.
“We’re both Parks, isn’t that funny?”
“Huh,” Sunghoon looks up at the ceiling, thinking for a brief second. “Park Sunghoon and Park Y/N. That is funny.”
Maybe both of your humors are broken because you hit your head too hard during the crash, but even though you were at the hospital, you’re glad you have someone like Sunghoon to keep you company.
“Do you want to watch the stars with me tonight at the balcony?” You ask the boy, who nods softly.
“I’d love to, actually.”
And that’s what the two of you did. By the time it hit 10pm, you two tiptoed out to the balcony, making sure to not let any of the night nurses see you.
“Whoaaa, it’s beautiful.” Sunghoon says, letting his broken arm lean against the railing. “Why didn’t we do this sooner?”
You smile, leaning your head on Sunghoon’s shoulder.
“Sunghoon.” You say, voice barely above a whisper.
“Yeah?”
“I’m not sure what we were before the accident,” you stop for a second. “But I’m glad we knew each other.”
Sunghoon turns his head to look down at your face, his expression morphed into a genuine smile. “I’m glad we knew each other too Y/N.”
That night, you slept the most compared to the other nights at the hospital. In your dreams, you see Sunghoon—only instead of being at the hospital bed right beside you, he’s in the kitchen, wearing a black suit.
“You look nice today.”
“Thank you baby.” Sunghoon leans down to give you a kiss on the lips. “Is that tiramisu?”
You nod, your eyes full of love. “Of course, you’ve been working so hard so I decided to make your favorite.”
He wraps his arms around your waist, letting the two of you swing back and forth slowly. “Thank you my love, I seriously don’t know what I would do without you.”
You woke up in a cold sweat, the dream feeling all too real.
“What’s wrong?” Sunghoon says, and you swore your heart almost leaped out of your chest, not expecting the brunette boy to be awake.
“It’s 2am, why are you even awake?” You say croakily, hands coming to rub your tired eyes.
“Couldn’t sleep.” He shrugs. “Hey, I had a really weird dream just now.”
“Me too.” You say, “you were in it.”
Sunghoon raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t further question it. “You were a lawyer in my dream, you just graduated from Seoul University. We bought a house, and you told me you wanted to continue with your career.”
At least his dream was somewhat normal, you think. I can’t just tell him I dreamt of us being together and being all lovey dovey. He’d be thrown into a coma!
“Ah, mine was similar.”
Nice save Y/N.
Sunghoon suddenly gets up from his bed, deciding to sit at the dining table the nurses had brought out for the two of you yesterday night.
“Come sit with me.”
You slowly creep out of your bed, sitting on the empty seat next to Sunghoon.
Suddenly, you’re hit with a sudden pounding headache.
“You’re the worst, Sunghoon!” You scream on the top of your lungs, “I hate you! I hate you!”
“Stop screaming!” He grabs your arms gently, eyes directly looking into yours. “Y/N-ah, stop it.”
“So I’m Y/N to you now?” Your voice breaks. “No more baby or love? Am I just another person to you Sunghoon?”
“Of course not, why would you say that?” He pinches the bridge of his nose, taking in a deep inhale. “Let’s just talk about this calmly, okay?”
“What’s there to talk about? You are never home, you’re always cooped up in your office! We might as well get a divorce!”
Sunghoon’s hold on your shoulder makes you snap out of your daze.
“Hey, you okay?” He says concernedly, “you were breathing heavily.”
“What?” You gasp. “Yeah—yeah, I’m okay. I just think I had a flashback.”
“Really? What was it?”
You don’t want to tell Sunghoon that it was the two of you fighting. Why did you even mention divorcing in the flashback? Were you and Sunghoon something more than just friends?
“Just the crash.” You say. You want to tell him the truth, you really do, but you’re not sure if these were hallucinations from how hard your head was hit during the trauma or if they were actual flashbacks.
“Well, I’m here.” Sunghoon whispers reassuringly. “I’ll always be here. We survived a car crash together anyway, we’re kinda bonded to each other.”
You laugh, smacking him on his shoulder softly. “You’re insane.”
“Maybe.”
❀﹐
“Do you remember what your passion was before all of this?” Sunghoon asks, peeling his orange with his injured hand.
“I haven’t really thought about it,” you say, “l think I really would’ve liked becoming a mother. I love kids, the thought of them makes me happy.”
“I think you would be a great mother.” Sunghoon says quietly. “Even though we don’t know each other much, I can tell you’re loving.”
You look down at your lap, trying to suppress the bright smile forming at the corner of your lips.
“Thanks Hoonie.”
“Hoonie?”
Your eyes widened. “I’m sorry! Did I make you uncomfortable? I should’ve not—”
“It’s okay Y/N,” he chuckles. “It’s fine. I like it.”
You can’t help but laugh along with him. “Okay.”
The next few days go by quickly, with you and Sunghoon already warming up to each other.
You were both comfortable enough to speak your thoughts freely around one another, no matter how silly or ridiculous some of them seemed.
When the nurses brought you two breakfast, Sunghoon almost dropped his fork in shock.
“They gave me tiramisu.” He says, eyes glistening with joy. “They finally gave me tiramisu.”
“I don’t know why you’re so excited.” You snicker jokingly. “You’ve been eating my tiramisu this entire week.”
He turns around to look at your tray, which had a bag of snickerdoodle cookies on it.
With shaking limbs, he makes his way over, handing the tiramisu cup to you and swapping it with your cookies.
“I thought you hated snickerdoodle cookies, Hoon?” You ask, eyebrows furrowed.
“I do.” He admits. “But you’ve given me your tiramisu all week, I wanted you to have mine this time.”
Your heart swells at that, and you point your spoon at him accusingly.
“Yah, is this because you want my chocolate pudding at dinner?” You joke.
“Pffft, what? Nooo.” He quickly defends himself. “But if you’re willing to share—”
“Shut up Park Sunghoon!”
“Yes ma’am!”
❀﹐
You don’t know why, but you’re starting to feel giddy whenever you talk with Sunghoon.
Your palms does this thing where it sweats profusely, and your tongue feels like dried sandpaper.
There’s no way you like Park Sunghoon, right? You’ve barely known the guy for two weeks, so why was the heart racing at the thought of him?
“I’ve convinced the nurses to get us two bottles of coca cola,” Sunghoon says, practically jumping up and down as he entered the room.
“Really? Out of all the drinks you could’ve persuaded them to get us, you got us coke.”
“Don’t diss Coca Cola like that!” Sunghoon says, crossing his arms.
Just like Sunghoon had said, the nurse approaches the two of you an hour later, 2 bottles of coca cola in her hands. She hands one to Sunghoon, then to you.
"Enjoy." She says, smile reaching her eyes.
Sunghoon's eyes light up when he opens the bottle and takes a sip. "Ah, for some reason, this feels so nostalgic."
A little memory pops up in his head, one of him playing at the park with his mom and younger sister.
"Sunghoon-oppa! Mom says she brought us coca cola!" The young girl, Yeji, says. "C'mon! Come with me!"
The young Park Sunghoon lets his younger sister take his hand, running towards their mom who was on the other side of the park.
"What's wrong Sunghoon-ssi?" You ask, noticing how his thick eyebrows were furrowed and his grip on the bottle had tightened.
"Huh?"
"You zoned out for a bit."
He chuckles nervously, glancing around the room. "Sorry, I think I just had a flashback." He says. "Park Yeji."
"Who?"
"My younger sister." He explains. "I could see her clearly. I wonder where she is right now."
You too wondered where your family was. Maybe they were too busy to come visit you. You could briefly remember having a younger brother. Jungwon. Yang Jungwon.
"Cheers." He says, mood changing quickly. His canines shined brightly as he smiled, making him look all too gorgeous in your eyes. "To the car crash, for bringing me and Park Y/N together."
You giggle, raising your bottle in the air. "Cheers to the car crash, for bonding me with this weird guy named Sunghoon."
"Yah!"
❀﹐
"Is it weird?"
"Hm?"
It's 11pm, and you and Sunghoon face each other as you're both laying on opposite ends of the room.
"That we've known each other for only a few weeks and I already feel like I've known you for an entire lifetime?"
You smile at his words, shaking your head. "No, I feel the same way Hoonie."
"Would it be stupid to say out loud how much I want to kiss you right now?"
Your mouth almost drops at his boldness, but you quickly shake your head.
Sunghoon takes your silence as approval, sitting up to come over to your side.
He brushes the hair away from your face, leaning in to close the gap between your lips.
When the both of you pull away, you automatically lean in again, the feel of his lips on yours felt so right.
"I love you Sunghoon." You say as you cup his cheeks. "I don't want to fight anymore."
"I know," he whispers. "I love you. Cause even though we were both going down, we were going down together."
"I hate you." You say, a smile playing on your face. "I hate you for being the only person who I can't stay mad at."
"And I love you," he says. "For being there for me, always."
"Sunghoon."
"Hm?"
"I love you."
He smiles down at you, uninjured hand coming to hold yours. "I love you too."
❀﹐
"What?" You say flabbergasted.
The next morning was the date of both yours and Sunghoon's discharge, and both your families decided to come visit.
"You two were married." Your father explains, a bewildered expression on his face. "How could you not know? Was the Park Y/N not obvious?"
"I thought that was just my last name!" You say, defending yourself.
"Your last name is Yang, noona." Your little brother speaks up. It was Jungwon, the same boy you kept seeing in your flashbacks, only this time, his face looks more clear and matured. "It was before you married Sunghoon-hyung."
"You're telling me we got married and divorced?" Sunghoon says, stuttering over his own words.
"Yes son," Sunghoon's mother explains. "Well, not quite exactly. We don't know why you guys wanted to divorce, you kind of shut yourselves out when you were arguing. You didn't officially divorce yet, you got into an accident on the way to court."
That made so much sense now. The flashbacks of arguments between you and Sunghoon, the makeups after the arguments, the cute moments, everything. It started to all click in your head.
"You still share houses and everything, the lawyers had to put your case on hold because you were both hospitalized." Jungwon says. "We were here to pick you up separately, in case you weren't comfortable staying with each other."
"It's fine." You and Sunghoon both say at the same time.
"Are you sure honey?" Sunghoon's mom asks concernedly.
"Yes mom, I'm sure."
The drive home was awkward, you both drove in different cars but to the home you had bought before the accident happened.
"Noona," Jungwon calls out to you. Your parents are still in the car, looking at the scene in front of them.
"Yes Jungwon?"
"Listen, I may not know a lot about love," he says, "but I know what you and Sunghoon-hyung have is real. I could still see somewhere in his eyes that he remembers parts of you and he still loves you whether or not his memories came back or not. I could tell you love him too. I don't know why the two of you decided to divorce but I know you called me crying hysterically because of it. I just think you two needed to talk it out, without the lawyers, without the paperwork. You two are the two most stubborn people I know, but also the two most loving people I know, you wouldn't just leave each other like that."
You want to cry at your younger brother's words, tears already leaking from your eyes. "Thank you Won."
You reach your arms out to hug him, a hug that he instantly melts into. "I love you noona."
"I love you too."
❀﹐
"This isn't what we expected, huh?" Sunghoon says, leaning his head on the marble island in the middle of your kitchen. "This whole time I thought you were my best friend, turns out you were my soon to be ex-wife."
You laugh quietly at the irony of the whole situation. "Whatever we were in the past is in the past Hoon."
He nods. "I can't believe we were going to divorce."
"I can't believe it either."
"You know what my mom told me in the car?" Sunghoon sits up straight to look at you. "The reason I have a broken arm and you don't was because during the crash, I put my arms around yours to protect you. Isn't that funny? Even though we hated each other at that moment, my first instinct was to protect you."
You stay still at that, his words sinking into your brain.
"It's like the universe wanted us to be together." You say quietly.
"Hey Y/N?"
You turn around to face Sunghoon. "Yeah?"
"I'm glad I married you."
Even though you and Sunghoon aren't sure where you stand in terms of relationship, all you know is that you love him, and that is enough for the both of you.
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idiopathicsmile · 6 months ago
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School Gymnastics: A Tragicomedy
So one day when we were in third grade, our P.E. teacher divided us into girls and boys. (I don’t remember what the boys had to do. Wrestling? Tackle football? I don’t know, probably not at age nine, but that’s not the point. Gladiatorial combat? I still don’t really understand kids’ sports.)
What matters for this story is that all the girls had to do gymnastics. Now—and I suspect this won’t surprise you if you know literally anything about me—I was always terrible at any form of school athletics. I am intensely, almost impressively uncoordinated. This doesn’t affect my life much at 36, but it was often a miserable way to be a kid. The only playground game I liked was playing pretend, because when you are playing pretend, you don’t have a bunch of people ostensibly on your side screaming in your ear, “Pretend faster! Pretend over there! Pretend with greater accuracy!”
Anyway, gymnastics and my clumsy, doughy little body. I couldn’t do a cartwheel. I couldn’t do a backwards somersault. I couldn't do any of it. We had an entire unit on this business and I literally did not learn how to even safely attempt a single move besides the log roll (lie flat and roll sideways on your belly). In retrospect, this seems like maybe it was in part a teaching problem, not a me problem, but that’s actually not the point either.
The point is, at the end of the unit, we were told to divide ourselves into little teams and choreograph a group gymnastics routine. My group, faced with my long list of limitations (more limitation than girl, really) decide my role will be to just forwards-somersault around the rest of the group as they do their moves. (This is itself kind of embarrassing but trust me, it is but the appetizer.) My friend Ashley has the Lion King soundtrack and we all agree that it is a great choice. The movie has only come out a couple of years earlier, and it of course features some funny, peppy options. 'Hakuna Matata'? 'I Just Can't Wait to Be King'? It's all coming together.
Carried on a wave of youthful enthusiasm, none of us even think to double-check which track Ashley has picked. Foreshadowing!
So the day of the performance comes. Another group goes right before us. They had picked “Wannabe” by the Spice Girls, which was a huge hit at the time. I mean, it still is because it’s a classic, but then it was big and new. They step onto the mat and immediately begin to do choreographed dance moves, which they have worked into their routine. We had not thought of this. Oops. Dance moves, of course! So they incorporate the necessary gymnastics, it goes over really well, the energy is high, and now it’s my group’s turn.
I take my place at the edge of the mat, the mat we are required to stay on for the length of the piece. Ashley cues up the track she’d chosen.
A song starts up. Instantly, I recognize it from the movie. It is the very slow instrumental music that plays when Simba realizes his dad is dead.
‘Well, this is not optimal,’ I think. I've been on this planet for nine years; I can see that much. But it’s too late to change the track, and so I tell myself, ‘It’s okay. I’m a performer. I can sell this.’ I put on an extremely solemn face and begin to execute a series of the world’s saddest somersaults.
Friends, when I say “sad” I mean it, in every possible sense of the word. Picture a nine year old with the gravest possible affect, determinedly doing somersaults to the slowest, most serious music she can imagine, in a careful ring around her friends who have actually learned any gymnastics whatsoever. Okay, now as the music starts to pick up and get more hopeful, imagine she gets real dizzy and in front of everyone, she rolls all the way directly off the mat, careening dangerously towards the assembled students.
Somehow, I roll myself back onto the mat, we survive what feels like hours of humiliation, we stagger away, and I blessedly avoid adding “puking my guts out in front of all of my peers” to my very short list of gymnastics tricks.
Later, I asked Ashley what in the world possessed her to choose that song.
“It didn’t have any words,” she said.
(There was absolutely no rule against using songs that had lyrics.)
Anyway, that’s why being an adult is better than being a kid.
I may have to do laundry and make my own dinner and wrestle with more complex existential angst, but you know what I haven’t been asked to do in like 26 years? Somersault for three minutes straight to the musical shorthand for “this cartoon lion cub has no choice but to process the weight of unimaginable grief for his dead dad.” And you know what? If I live another 50 years, I can be pretty confident nobody will ask me to do it then, either.
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reiderwriter · 24 days ago
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☎️ Don't Call Me ☎️
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader
Summary: After catching your boyfriend cheating, you find accidental comfort in your coworker. With your phone ringing nonstop, you're willing to do whatever it takes to start fresh.
Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, bug mentions (cockroaches), cheating, exhibitionism, dom/sub dynamics, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), squirting, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, slight spanking, mentions of masturbation. Dom! Spencer.
A/N: Haha... hi guys... been a while 😚 Please enjoy the fic I dreamed up over a month ago now, and was finally able to conjure up!
Masterlist
If you were to be asked how you assumed a five-year-long relationship would end, you'd likely say something like irreparable differences. Maybe a difference in lifestyle, growing out of love, or even different plans for the future. Unfortunately, the irreparable difference your boyfriend had chosen at 10 pm on a Thursday evening was being balls deep in an irreparably different woman. 
You supposed you should've seen the signs the relationship was drawing to a close and likely you did, but with your job itself being a life or death situation almost daily, you really didn't have much time to worry about the fact that your boyfriend was sowing his oats in other fields. Based on the look of the woman spread across your bed, the oats weren't that great for her either. 
Your reaction had been somewhat delayed, but curiously not as much as hers. She'd been wonderfully blasé about the man writhing on top of her before you started screaming and throwing things, and even now you were armed with a vase of flowers (dead - you'd bought them yourself before the case you'd been on for the last two weeks) she still looked slightly bored. But at least her legs were together now, and not gynaecologist level apart. 
Your boyfriend - ex-boyfriend? - managed to regain an ounce of dignity with a scrap of clothing, and did his best to shepard you out of the crime scene as you regained the ability to hold coherent thoughts that weren't about strangling him with his own tie. 
“Listen to me, please just for five minutes-” 
“Listen? I was just listening! To you moaning into that woman's shoulders with your eyes rolled back in your head!” 
It was as if in the last few minutes all the love you'd had for this man, all five years of relationship and comfort, and nights spent together had melted away in an instant. The rage dissipated, and you were surprisingly calm again, though that worried you, too. Surely you should be crying, or at the very least upset. You should be feeling some kind of emotion that wasn't a vague disgust at the man in front of you in full pooh bear mode, trying to tug down the hem of his shirt to cover the crown jewels. 
“It didn't mean anything. She doesn't mean anything. She's just - You're gone so long on cases, and I just-” 
“So you're saying it's my fault you're cheating on me?” 
“Yes! No, wait, no, no, no, no-” 
“No, heard loud and clear, I'll try not to save lives in the future, I'm sure the BAU will understand I should be on my back 24 hours a day instead, taking all four inches you have to donate to my worthy cause.” 
“Y/N, don't be like that,” he said, exasperated. Whatever he had to be exasperated about, you had no idea. Maybe blue balls. 
“Like what?”
“Like a bitch!” 
The room went still with silence as you let him sit with the words he'd just spoken, willing him to snap back quickly so you could keep even just a shred of respect for him. 
No such apology came. 
“I'm leaving now. I expect your things packed and out of here by 12 pm tomorrow, including your thing in the bedroom. Don't bother cleaning the sheets. Just burn them. Lock the door and post the keys through the letterbox when you're done.” 
“Y/N, I told you it's not like that, I still love you, come on-” 
“Well I don't love you. And please go put some fucking pants on.” 
You stepped back over the threshold of your apartment - the lovely, nice apartment you'd been living in for the last eight years, your nice safe space - and you shuddered. 
The question wasn't exactly what next, but more like where next. What next was sending a group text in your ex-boyfriends family chat telling them what you'd walked in on, and then leaving the chat before you could get any response. The where would be a harder sell. 
From this part of the city, it'd take 2 hours to get to Penelope’s apartment, especially at this time of night without a car. Emily's apartment was similarly far. Going through a list of your coworkers again, you mentally crossed off Tara, who'd been injured on your last case and was resting at her girlfriend's apartment, Luke, who despite the promised comfort of a cute dog, you were absolutely sure didn't have a spare bed, and all members of the team with spouses and/or children. Which left just Spencer and Rossi. 
Needless to say, you found your way to Spencer's apartment in only 20 minutes, though you were sure you had disassociated the entire thing. 
Knocking on the door, you felt a little bit awkward, but not awkward enough to leave and find a hotel at nearly 11 pm. Your last case hadn't been a pleasant one, hotel-wise, and you weren't exactly eager for another check-in.
Spencer opened the door quickly, his eyebrows knitted in confusion as he found you there  but only for a brief flash before his face brightened up. 
“Y/N? Do we have a case again? I thought Hotch said-” 
“Can I stay here tonight?” you blurted, needing to get the words out as quickly as possible before you convinced yourself to walk away. 
Spencer took a moment to take in your words, and you took the opportunity to look at him then. He was fully clothed at least, and you were glad to find that his pajamas looked comfortable and clean. A simple plaid cotton pant with a soft-looking white long sleeved shirt pushed up his arms slightly. He'd taken out his contacts and put on his glasses, and you wondered if you'd caught him mid-book. 
“Please?” you added in a hopeful voice as he still looked at you slightly confused. 
“Oh, of course,” he said, stepping aside and gesturing inside. “Is there something wrong with your apartment?” he asked, taking your go-bag from you without question and guiding you into the main living space of his apartment. 
“Thank you, yeah. Something like that. Shoes off or on?” 
“I have some slippers. You can take them off. What happened?” he said, placing the slippers in front of you and turning back to bolt the door. 
“Invasive species?” You said, trying to sound as nonplussed as possible  despite now feeling incredibly plussed.
“Oh, bugs? Yeah, I've had a cockroach or two in the apartment before. Did you know that the average female cockroach can produce up to 10,000 offspring in a single year?” 
You sat on his couch quietly, trying not to imagine 10,000 cockroaches and failing nearly spectacularly. Unfortunately, the only image that could surpass tiny cockroach babies was of your boyfriend pounding away at another woman. Which was just a brilliant move for your psyche. 
“Spencer, I know I've really intruded here tonight, but do…. Do you wanna drink with me?” You asked, hoping to drown at least a memory or two of the last 24 hours. Hopefully, the cheating one, but you'd take cockroach extermination as well.
A slightly worried look settled on Spencer's face, but he said nothing and nodded, walking to his kitchen, grabbing two beers and meeting you back on his loveseat. 
“Oh you really have beer here!” You exclaimed, thanking him for the beverage before cracking it open and taking a sip. 
“Morgan came over with some to celebrate 6 months out of prison. These are leftovers.” 
“Right… right…” 
The first few sips were so painfully awkward that you thought about returning back to your apartment and just sleeping on your own couch. 
Vaguely, you felt Spencer watching you, taking a sip of his drink for every sip you took of yours. 
“So…” you said, and he raised an inquisitive eyebrow again, already questioning whatever was about to come out of your mouth. 
“So?”  he asked. You weren't sure if it was the beer, the look on his face, or the crazy implosion of the last 5 years that had you giggling all of a sudden. You were just glad that when you cracked up, he cracked a smile as well, and a little bit of the tension went away. 
“Why are you really here, YN?” 
You took a deep breath and looked straight forward at the bookshelves Spencer had lovingly filled. Maybe this had taken him half a decade as well, so he'd understand how your life felt a little bit like a wobbly bookshelf at that second. 
“The invasive species I mentioned? It was the woman screwing my boyfriend in my bed. Ex. Ex-boyfriend.” 
You heard the intake of breath from Spencer before he put his can down and started thinking of something to say in reply to that. 
“Oh.” 
“Yeah.” 
“Oh… Y/N, I-” 
A shrill ringing cut him off, and you were almost glad to not be on the receiving end of whatever pitiful words he was about to push on you, until you checked the caller ID and saw your ex's name. 
“Don't pick that up,” Spencer said as you hesitated towards the phone. With a hand over yours, he flipped the phone over, locking eyes with you as he let it ring out. 
“He's just going to try it again.”
“Let him.” 
You nodded, breaking eye contact and sinking back into Spencer's slightly wilted couch cushions. 
“In your bed? Really?” he asked, talking another sup as you took a gulp, letting the beer fizz down your throat before you could answer.
“I told him to expect me tomorrow because of how the case was looking. I guess he wasn't expecting me.” 
“I think that was a given. Unless he was into that. Exhibitionism is one of the most common kinks among adult males, and-” 
“Oh he was not into exposing himself,” you laughed into your drink, propping your head up on your hand and turning to face Spencer more. He shot another questioning glance but didn't push the issue, so you silently explained as well. By pinching your fingers together to the approximate size of your ex-boyfriend's dick. 
“Oh. Well, it's not the size that counts?” He whispered almost ironically as he took another sip, now much closer than before. You'd done your best to distance yourself from your boyfriend even as he'd followed you through your apartment half naked, but you didn't seem to find Spencer's proximity threatening at all. 
Maybe because he wasn't having sex with a random woman in your bed 5 seconds before. 
“You wanna know the worst part?” You said, leaning closer as if to tell him an even bigger secret. “He didn't even know how to use it. I haven't-” 
Another phone call blasted through, and you grabbed your phone and put it behind you. 
“He's really great at interrupting conversation when it’s just getting good,” Spencer laughed, but you were slightly disappointed that he'd leaned back away now. 
“What was it you were saying?” He asked, taking a swig of beer again, can nearing its close. 
“I haven't had an orgasm in almost three years,” you said bluntly, watching the most genuine spit take you’d seen in your life. You pat Spencer's back as he coughed up inhaled beer, bringing your feet up under you into a cosier position. 
“Okay now?” you asked as his breathing returned to normal. 
“No? Three years, Y/N? Really?” 
You shrugged and looked away  almost embarrassed to be meeting his eyes now that your sexual history was the topic of the night. 
“We had sex. He's just… he's just a really lazy lover. It'd be the same stuff every time. Handjob to some clumsy fingers missing my clit, a few pumps and cum on my face. I wasn't exactly initiating seven days a week in the hopes that this time he'd be able to locate it.” 
Spencer was somewhere between horror and trying not to laugh, eyes wide with either alarm or the strain of having to keep it in. 
“It's okay, you can laugh,” you said, but he shook his head politely.
“Y/N, I was in prison and still had more orgasms than you this year.” 
“Hey, I hear prison is a great place to meet new people. Have new experiences.”
Spencer shot you a quickly horrified look as his cheeks flushed with heat. “Y/N, I was not someone's bitch in prison.” 
“Why not? You're pretty enough for it?” 
You'd meant the line to come across as teasing, just as you'd expected the finger now twisted in a lock of his hair, playing with him, to come off as teasing as well. 
But you felt a definite throb between your legs when he looked at you again, doubly so when his eyes darted down to your lips. 
You cleared your throat and tried for a teasing tone once again. 
“So you made someone else your bitch?” you smiled, trying to drag his eyes away from your lips before you did something you'd regret. 
“No. I… I spent a long time in solitary, and there's… there's really not that much to do.” 
“So you did yourself?” 
The tips of his ears were scarlet when you finally decided to back off, tucking the curl of hair behind his ear and letting him cool off. 
“Why didn't you masturbate then?” he asked, pouting slightly still from your interrogation. 
“Excuse me?”
“Your boyfriend couldn't make you cum, but a vibrator probably could. But you still haven't had an orgasm in three years. Why is that?” 
It was your turn to feel the heat, the warmth from the beer finally reaching your head. 
“He didn't want me to.” 
You didn't mean for the words to sound as sad as they did. The fact itself was just incredibly sad. Your boyfriend saw anything vaguely phallic shaped as competition and had encouraged “organic” coupling instead. 
You waited for Spencer to say something else, anything else as you held his gaze, waiting for the other shoe to drop, and him to start talking down to you as if you were simply a victim of the worst sex in the world. 
Instead, he said “so did that other woman look as miserable as you've been for the last three years?” and the spell was broken. 
You laughed so hard, you nearly choked on the beer you'd already finished. This time, it was Spencer's turn to land a hand on your back as you winded yourself with laughter. 
“She looked bored! She looked genuinely bored. I almost thought it was just a lifelike doll, she was that unphased,” you kept giggling between gasps, forcing the words out as you threw your head onto Spencer's shoulder, hand landing on his thigh as you finally calmed down. 
“I'd be horrified if anyone looked bored while in bed with me,” came Spencer's voice, and a little shiver ran down your spine as the rasp of his whisper rang in your ear. 
You looked up from his shoulder and caught his eye immediately. If you wanted to, you could lean up by a centimetre and catch his lips with yours. And you suddenly, very much wanted to do that. 
A final shriek of your phone behind you deterred you for a few seconds, and you were about to work yourself up to scooting a little bit away from Spencer when he leaned over you, grabbed the phone, and hung up on your boyfriend. 
“Do you want to cum, Y/N?” he asked, as quietly as before as his hands traced over you on their return journey to him. He looked down your body, eyes greedily drinking in your breasts, hips, thighs and legs tucked into his side on his couch. 
You didn't know what you were going to respond when your head practically nodded by itself. Enthusiastically. 
He doesn't immediately pull you in for a kiss, and you're worried for a beat that he meant that only as a hypothetical and not an invite. A final cry from your phone has you standing in seconds, completely detached from Spencer, and the nearly embarrassing moment you pouncing him would've been.
“I should probably take it this time,” you explained, turning slightly. 
But Spencer was faster than you, if not more prepared for what was to come. Wrapping an arm around your waist, Spencer tugged you back, pulling you onto his lap. When you were firmly situated - ass over his now evidently firm cock - he grabbed the phone out of your other hand, hung up and put it in his pocket. 
“Spencer, I-I don't think that's a good idea,” you gasped as his hands slowly progressed up to your chest, and his lips dropped to your neck, biting and sucking along whatever flesh was easy for him to access. 
“You need to cum. You deserve to cum, Y/N. I'm just here to help. Use me.” 
You stifle a sharp, quick moan, biting your lips and thanking God that he couldn't see the face you made when his hips ground his cock up into your ass. 
“I'm probably not ready for this,” you stuttered slightly, breath departing your body quicker than it could arrive. 
“Probably not.”
“We work together, too. It would be awkward.”
“It might,” he nodded. “But you still want to.” 
You couldn't help the moan, finally letting it free as you tossed your head back and clawed at his forearm, wrapped around you. 
Your ass had a mind of its own, grinding back into him in circles as his hands found their way under your shirt, inquisitive fingers stroking your nipples through your bra. 
“S-Spencer,” you whimpered again, legs spreading apart as you felt that familiar warmth settle between them. He didn't miss the longing in your tone, the shift in your core, pushing one hand down your stomach and trailing it onto your thigh. 
It was as close as he could get with your pants still on, tight against your skin. He squeezed your thigh,  still licking and sucking at your neck before his hand rose to the clasp of your pants. 
It took him a long lime to fumble with them, and you thought of helping multiple times but you let yourself get distracted by the tense definition of his muscles, the rigid line of his body as he strained to please you. 
Your mind fogged with lust, and you felt the vibrations from his pocket right under you when your phone rang again. You practically jerked up in shock as pleasure hit you in a wave, Spencer's fingers finally dipping into your panties just as the vibrations hit you. They weren't centred, of course, not anywhere close to where you needed them to be for you to enjoy them the way you would a toy, but that's what Spencer was for. 
He let the call ring out, tracing small, slow circles over your clit as you jumped up into his hand, moaning and whimpering the entire time. 
“What an idiot. I bet he never touched you like this. Nice and slow.”
“N-no, S-s-” 
“I'm so glad I'm right. He didn't deserve this beautiful cunt. You're so wet for me, right, baby?” You nodded and he hummed in response, voice low and making you pulse in his lap. 
“That's it, good girl,” he whispered as you worked your cunt up and down his fingers, stilling himself so you could find your own pleasure. 
“Spencer… Spencer, fuck-” 
With his free hand, he turned your face to the side and finally kissed you properly as you moaned into his mouth. He was quick to deepen the kiss, to press his tongue against the seam of your mouth and enter your mouth, quickly dominating you as you let yourself get more and more excited. Your hips stuttered, out of rhythm and out of practice, and you almost whimpered in frustration that you couldn't get off quicker, that your body wasn't finding the orgasm quick enough despite how good, how perfect this felt.
Sensing your growing frustration, Spencer broke the kiss. 
“Come with me,” he said, pulling his hands away from your wet cunt and out of your stupid pants and encouraging your hips up until you were stood and he was stood behind you. 
Cock still firmly stood against your ass, he walked you all the way to his bedroom, hands on your hips the entire time, memorising the sway of your walk. 
“Strip and get on the bed, please, Y/N,” he said, finally peeling himself away from you as you nodded quickly and listened to him immediately. You weren't sure what to expect, so you hesitated, laying down, crawling up until your head hit the pillows. You were almost disappointed when you finally looked back at Spencer and he was still fully clothed, so sure that he was going to fuck you to your climax. 
Instead, he approached the bed, gently slid his arms around your thighs, opened your legs wider, knelt on the floor and brought your cunt to his face. 
The first touch of his to guess to your clit had you almost beside yourself with lust. You'd been sexually active for a handful of years, and this - THIS - was the first time you'd experienced such acute pleasure. 
Your hips were unable to stop, thrusting up into his face as you willed his tongue to engulf you, to be a tool in your pleasure. 
Again your phone rang, but he grabbed it quickly, pausing only a second to silence it and discard it on the bed beside you, sitting it further up the bed where it would no longer be a distraction to him. 
He dove right back in, and you rewarded him with wave after wave of fierce moan, your writhing body only restricted by a hand snaked up onto his stomach. You still pushed against his face, practically fucking it as he flattened out his to guess and let you chase your high. 
“Spencer!” You gasped and moaned, voice dripping with lust and desperation, mouth not even properly forming words now you were so close. 
You propped yourself up slightly, looking down as Spencer's eye caught your own, his chin slick with your juices, his eyes dripping with lust. You grabbed a handful of his hair and jumped that little bit faster as you felt that long forgotten whisper of pleasure, that all-encompassing explosion of satisfaction, and you came apart on Spencer's tongue. 
“Thank you, thank you, Spencer, shit, thank you,” you whimpered, falling back again into the bed as you rode out the high. When you managed to open your bleary eyes again, Spencer was propped up above you, but instead of paying you attention, he'd grabbed your phone and bought it to his ear. 
“You heard that? Good. I'm sure you're aware now that she won't be returning your calls tonight. Goodbye.” 
His voice, his words, were like a cold bucket of water to your brain as you sat up, reaching for him and finding him as his hips circled your waist. 
“Was that-?” He cut you off with a kiss  a sweet, soft one. 
“Yes.” He kissed you again  and you melted into his touch as he pulled you into his lap again. 
“H-He-” 
“He knows now what a real orgasm sounds like. He knows you're not interested anymore. He knows you're mine now.” 
You shivered at the words, your lust addled brain flooding your senses, and your cunt as you reacted to the possessiveness of his words, his tone. Part of you was turned on by the exhibitionism as well. You'd had to walk in on your ex boyfriend completely exposed, and there was satisfaction in kicking him to the curb with a similar fuck you. A fuck you that you'd enjoyed a lot. 
You pressed your lips against Spencer's and rocked your hips against him again, tasting yourself on his tongue as he laid you down once more. His cock twitched against your leg as he propped you up on the pillows, and your hands trailed down to show it some attention as your sighed into his kiss.
He eagerly shed his clothes, first his top, sitting up and pulling it over his head, giving you a deliriously enticing shot of his chest and soft stomach before dropping down to cover your body again. You let your hand find the sprinkling of hair on his lower stomach, though, following it down as you encouraged his pants off. His cock was thick and heavy in your hand, and you gladly stroked it as he kissed the plains of your body again. He found the side of your neck that he'd neglected earlier, licking and sucking until it was almost as loved as the first side, before pulling your hand away from his cock. 
You pouted and began to protest when he quickly lined his cock up with your cunt, and slid in deep and soft before you could. 
“Needed to be in you,” he whispered in your ear, gripping your hips and sliding your legs up and around him as he pushed that little bit deeper. “Keep them nice and wide for me,” he said, dropping one last kiss to your lips, before his chest rose, and his hips pulled away again. 
When they snapped back into you, you let out a generous scream of pleasure that almost had you wishing you'd never hung up. He set a quick pace, a furious pace as he too moaned into the contact of your cunt and his cock, two desperate people searching for release. 
“So tight, Y/N, you're so tight,” he moaned, flesh hitting flesh as you dug your nails into his arms, already so wet again, you could feel the sheets under you growing damp. His hand left its perch on your hip and found its way to your clit once again, and you knew that you weren't going to be able to keep to this pace without cumming a second time. 
“Keep moaning for me baby, show me how much you want it,” his voice begged, almost a rumble with how lustful he sounded. You let your voice carry, each moan a little bit more unrestricted than the last. 
“Louder, Y/N, please. I want to hear how much you're enjoying this, you don't know how much I enjoy hearing your pleasure.”
His prayers were answered when he lowered his head back down and took one of your nipples into his mouth, gently grazing it with his teeth between licks and sucks. You practically screamed his name, pressing your chest up to grant him better access. 
You liquefied beneath him, pressure building and building until you felt him rock, lifting his chest as you came. He pulled his cock out, teasing it through your folds as you stuttered around him, your arousal squirting across his cock and sheets as you fell back to the bed, gasping in pleasure. Your hips stuttered against him, and he soothed you gently, still working his cock through your folds gently as your clit went from overwhelmed to calm to quickly overstimulated. 
“Spencer,” you whimpered, almost unable to take all the pleasure he was offering you. “Spencer, it-it hurts.” 
“Don't you want me to stop?” He asked, stopping his movements for a second as you deliberated your answer. The lack of movement was answer alone, and you shook your head no wanting to feel his cock against you, inside you, one more time. 
“Louder, Y/N, tell me what you want.” 
“I want to keep going,” you said, as he began slowly rocking his cock against you again, sticky from your cum. 
“What do you want me to do?” He asked, teasing a nipple with his hand as your eyes fluttered shut. 
“Please fill me up again, please I want to cum again.” 
“One more time?” He asked.
“Mhmmm… one more… one more, please.” 
You were cum drunk, so horny that you couldn't fathom stopping there. He pressed another kiss to your lips and encouraged you to flip over, propping a pillow under your stomach as he pulled your legs into the right position. 
You snuggled into the pillows at your head, pushing your ass up for him slightly as he nudged his cock against your entrance once more. 
“Where should I cum  Y/N?” He asked, reaching under you to slowly circle your clit again. 
“H-hmmm…” you said, eyes shut, focused more on the pleasure than the question. You didn't care anymore. You didn't care where he came, just as long as he let you do it, too. 
“Y/N, I expect an answer. Where should I put my cum?” 
“Anywhere,” you pouted, pressing your hips back into his cock in the hopes that he'd just fuck you again already. 
“That's not an answer,” he said, gently slapping your ass as he pulled his cock away. 
“On your back?” He asked, fingers still working your clit underneath, but trailing lower until they found your cunt, two entering you to keep you wet and stretched for him. 
“You'd need to shower before you could pass out, but I'm happy to help clean you off. They have communal showers in prison, so I'm not shy.” You moaned at the suggestion but couldn't answer further. 
“On your stomach? Again we'd have to shower off, but I would love to see your boobs decorated all nicely.” Your moans were whimpers now as he edged you with his fingers, his words gentle in your ear but dripping with so much lust and promise you couldn't stand it. You didn't want to make decisions anymore. 
“On your face?”
“Not on my face,” you snapped quickly, and he nodded and stroked your hair, hooking a strand behind your ear as he agreed. 
“Okay. Where, Y/N? Be a good girl and tell me.”
“I-Inside. Cum inside me. Please.” 
“Of course. Good job.”
He pulled his hand free gently, and quickly replaced it with his thick cock, and you moaned again at the weight of it against your walls, the familiar stretch of it. In this position, he reached deeper somehow, his thrusts slower, more precise as he drew out his own orgasm as long as possible, maximising his ability to pleasure you. 
“Good girl,” he muttered against your skin, dropping a kiss to your back. “Good girl.” 
“Wanted to do this for so long, Y/N,” he confessed with each thrust. “Look at how pretty this pussy is, how wet it is for me. I wish your boyfriend could see it. I wish he could see how well-behaved you are for me. How nicely you take my cock.” 
His deep, slow strokes, his words, the kisses he pressed against any inch of your skin he could reach combined to push you over the edge a third and final time. This one wasn't loud. It wasn't dramatic. It was a steady shudder of pleasure from your hips and a quiet, satisfied sigh. 
You didn't say anything  but Spencer knew, he felt it, and he came moments after, cock deep inside as he filled you with his cum. 
“You're on birth control, right?” 
“IUD. Pill. Yeah.” You say between breathy sighs of contentment.
Muttering something behind you, he pulled out finally, leaving for a minute to grab a washcloth and clean himself off before returning to help you as well. 
“What did you mumble?” You asked, as he crawled back into your arms, looking up at him. 
“What?” He asked, ears turning slightly pink as you stared at him intently. 
“Just now. I told you I was on birth control, and you mumbled something.” 
He looked away, refusing to meet your gaze before dropping to kiss you sweetly once again. 
“Tell me,” you said, and he kissed you again. 
“Spencer, tell me,” you pouted, and he kissed the pout away. 
You almost asked again, but he kissed you too quickly, too deeply  and you lost your breath again. 
“I said,” he started, leaving you panting under him again. “It was good you're on birth control, because I like the sight of my cum dripping out of you.” 
The remaining breath left your body as you gasped, your face growing hot. You burrowed your face in his chest and let him hold you as you drifted into sleep, wrapped up in each other. 
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h0ttestgrlinm0urgu3 · 11 months ago
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𝔭𝔯𝔢𝔱𝔱𝔶 𝔭𝔦𝔫𝔨 𝔟𝔬𝔴
𝖍𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖞 𝖈𝖆𝖛𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖝 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗
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summary [henry let's you play with bows and you get carried away]
warnings [smut, mouth stuff🎀, bimbo~ish ig, no p in v, pet names, soft dom henry🎀]
being the type of girl you were you loved ribbons and bows. they weren't something you indulged in often as a child, growing up in the country and all, but once you got older you feel in love with them.
you'd put them everywhere, in your hair, on your clothes, there's even some on your walls and others tied around stuffed bears.
Henry had recently gotten you these really cute ribbon bow clips and you were currently sitting beside him putting them in his hair. he's not really paying attention to you, he's used to this kind of treatment and just sat scrolling on his phone. you dropped one of the clips from his hair and in to his lap. as you go to reach for it a thought flashes in your mind. 'can I put a bow on your dick?' you ask your boyfriend after retrieving the clip.
you see the way henry freezes and hurriedly say 'not these, like ribbon' you clear up. he lets out a breath and laugh before looking at you 'I was scared for a sec baby' he says tucking a peice of hair behind your ear making you smile. he returns your smile and leans in for a kiss. 'of course I'll let my pretty girl dress me up' henry says sitting back up with the clips still in his hair.
so excited you jump up and let out a squeal 'omg yay' you scream about to go into you and Henry's shared room for some ribbon. turning to him before you go saying 'don't get hard' which earns you an eye roll as you leave 'you wanna do it or not' he mumbles as your walking but you hear.
in the room your trying to figure out what color ribbon you wanted. you got it down to pink and purple, so you bring them out to henry. 'which one do you want?' you question, you sit beside him on the couch, getting comfortable with your upper half mostly on his lap. 'whatever matches my hair' he says as he scrolls through something.
you go with the pink since he had pink in his hair. unzipping his jeans and pulling his cock out your really happy to see the he wasn't hard. it might sound odd but you liked playing with his soft cock. cutting the ribbon to length before throwing everything on to the floor. you start to tie the ribbon at the base of his dick, humming to yourself as henry continued on his phone, you could care less.
looking down at the pretty pink bow you made your so proud in your self. you let out a giggle in excitement and notice the way Henry's cock twitched when you laughed. your mouth begin to water. trying something else you lightly blow making it twitch again.
you mouth became the ocean and you desperatly needed to taste him. opening your mouth and letting droll drip onto the head of his cock before lowering your head and licking it up. 'ohh fuck baby' henry moans out at the unexpected pleasure, finally placing his attention on you.
you take the tip of this cock in your mouth savering the taste of him. opening your mouth wider you take his full soft length in. feeling the bow brush against your lips. feeling him swell you come up for air letting out a little whine at the fact that this is the first time he's ever fully fit in your mouth, and it's because hes never let you suck it soft. and it's not gonna last much longer, but you'll enjoy having him in your mouth either way.
looking up to meet his gaze he grips your jaw and squeezes your cheecks together. sticking out your tounge he roughly brings you up for a sloppy kiss, gripping the back of your scalp. he breaks the kiss to leave kisses all over your face before letting you go back down to his cock, which is now fully hard.
bow intact.
you lick from the base to the tip repetadly. bringing your focus more to the head of his cock you bring one hand to the base and the other to his balls. 'fuck baby you know daddy likes that' he moans out as his hips buck forcing the tip of his cock all the way into your mouth. you gag a little before you adjust to it returning to your pace.
henry looks down to the ungodly display infornt of him. you desperatly sucking his cock, pretty hands playing with his balls with a pretty pink ribbon rapped around his cock, your eyes are watery, the floor beneath you full of droll and pre cum. your looking up to him eyes glossed over moaning every so often telling him just how much you love his cock.
'ahh- fuckk, baby im gonna cum' he moaned out. forcing the rest of his cock into your moth and down your throat henry couldn't hold back any longer. his cum being forced down your throat and falling from the sides of your mouth around his cock getting your bow all dirty. removing him from your mouth with a giggle and a smile so happy that you grew into loving bows.
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[a/n: this randomly came to me and I wrote it right away so if it's bad blame it on that. 🎀]
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alexthetrashyracoon · 9 months ago
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Simon wants to marry you.
This fact was as clear as rain on his mind. You were the love of his life, he was ready to settle down with you and grow old.
So Simon prepared everything for that special day, it was your fourth year anniversary and Simon wants to ask you the biggest question someone could ask and he hoped, maybe even prayed despite not believing in any higher deity, that you would say 'yes' to his proposal.
He has planned out the whole day, from the moment you woke to the moment you would close your eyes for the night again, everything was supposed to be perfect.
Simon brings you breakfast in bed, watching your smile brighten when you see the freshly pressed orange juice and the fresh buns, still warm from the bakery. "Happy Anniversary." He whispers before slipping back into bed behind you, pulling you between his legs and stealing some of the freshly cut Mango from your plate.
When breakfast is over, you two made a mess out of each other while trying to feed each other, he scoops you up and carries you into the bathroom, telling you to get ready and that he has a lot of plans for today which causes you to become perceptive. Immediately starting to question him about his plans, but he's still a trained soldier, he withstands your flow of questions.
Another plan of Simon for today was bringing you to a fair, the same one you two met four years ago.
Here he wanted to ask you to marry him, on top of the Ferris wheel where you two had been stuck together four years ago due to a technical issue with the electronic.
But after spending a few hours walking the fair ground, having to walk back to his car once to bring Lord Otto from Otterson, the plush Otter he won you at one of the stupid and usually very rigged fair games, to safety and out of the way. You make it to the Ferris wheel and Simon's face fell.
"Out of order..." He breathes and runs a hand through his short blonde hair, staring up at the still standing wheel and the dangling cable cars.
"Damn." You curse softly next to him and scratch your neck. "Well, maybe we can ride it another day, mhm?"
"Yeah, maybe. Well, we can't change anything now." He chuckles and squeezes the velvety box in his back pocket. Keeping it safe until you two would reach the next destination.
The small restaurant by the corner where you two lived was filled with loud voice, happy laughter, children running around, not that Simon minded, he knew you were a very outgoing person and enjoyed the social interactions from such evenings.
Simon had reserved a table a few weeks ago and the waiter brings you and him over, Simon shushing the poor man who just wants to help you sit.
He is your boyfriend, bloody hell, he can do something so simple as helping you get seated.
"I know it is our anniversary, Simon," You chuckle as you put down the glass of wine Simon has ordered for you and him, "But something feels different. I just don't know what. Special..."
"Four years is just a long time, love. Maybe your brain finally catches up with... wha-?" Simon wants to be cheesy with you before asking you the question of all questions when suddenly his feet feel wet and he looks down, seeing water come from the kitchen.
His second attempt of asking for your hand has been sabotaged by a broken water pipe.
Simon curses internally as he carries you back outside, not wanting to get your feet wet and cause you catching some flu.
Well, there is only the romantic walk through the nearby park which is empty around this time of the night, so you two can walk around the pond and watch the fireflies and swans before he can go down on one knee and finally ask.
But before he even get you through the sturdy iron gates that allowed entrance to the park, his phone rang, Prices' number on the screen and everything in Simon screams to ignore his Captain for the sake of your relationship and your future.
He apologizes and takes the call, listening to Price explaining that they've got information about a certain Russian Terrorist planning an attack and that they had to meet within the next hour.
"It's fine." You reassure him when he brings you back to your shared apartment, squeezing his hand with a gentle smile on your lips. "I had a lot of fun today with at my side. And saving the world is much more important. We can celebrate another time, Si."
"You're too forgiving." Simon replies and presses his chapped lips against your forehead. "But it's not fine. I had the whole day planned out. And the universe seems against me at all, bloody hell. All I wanted to do tonight was asking you to marry me. And everything I've tried blew. The Ferris Wheel, the restaurant, even the walk..."
You cut him off before he can talk himself into a frenzy by wrapping your arms around his neck, having to stand on your tiptoes and planting your lips on his.
"Yes." You grin when you pull back. "Yes, I will marry you, Simon Riley. I will marry you."
Maybe he should have simply asked you this morning during breakfast, might have saved him from getting another grey hair on his head. But sometimes the simple answer is hidden behind the complicated ideas.
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dreamsteddie · 1 month ago
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Wowza. Part one blew up way more than I thought it would so here! Part two! I do have more thoughts about this so there might be a couple more parts to come. We'll see ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
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Eddie takes half a second to consider just not answering. Maybe throwing his phone away and never going back to the restaurant they went to last night so he never has to confront whatever it is that's about to happen. Maybe even fleeing the country and living alone on a sheep farm with no friends and go relationships ever again so something like this never happens again.
But then he thinks of Steve. Kind, funny Steve with the bright eyes and soft skin who looked at Eddie like he could fall in love with him and he knows that whatever comes next, Steve deserves for Eddie to see it through with him.
New Message: Steve H.
Hey
Just that one word sends Eddie's heart into his throat. He can see that Steve is still typing, those little ellipses of doom popping on and off the screen. Realistically, Steve probably doesn't know what happened, right? Eddie's pretty sure Steve wasn't in on it and it's been less than an hour since Eddie himself found out, so probably not.
Steve H: Gareth called me
Fuck.
Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck.
If Eddie's heart was in his throat at the first text, the second one has it dropping through his body and out of his goddamned ass. It's not that he doesn't want Steve to know. He was always planning to tell him, he was just hoping he could be the one to do it. Gareth being a little shit and calling Steve first was not part of the plan.
Steve H: He told be about the prank. I'm sorry if I wasn't what you expected and you were just being nice. We can pretend it never happened. No hard feelings.
Eddie slams his head into his pillow. This is such a cluster fuck he can hardly bring himself to look at the text but he needs to come up with some kind of response, like, yesterday if he wants any chance of keeping the man of his dreams from running for the hills because apparently, Eddie's friends are trying to destroy his life. He takes a deep breath and starts typing.
Eddie: Hey, I'm so sorry about that. I just found out about what they did an hour ago at practice. I didn't think they would just call you out of the blue like that, I was just about to text you.
Not completely true, but Eddie was going to text him about it, just after screaming into his pillow and making a couple Vudu dolls first.
Eddie: For what it's worth I really do like you and I would love to still take you out on that second date, but I understand if my friends scared you off and you want nothing to do with me. I know it's fucked up.
It takes a minute for Steve to respond, the typing bubbles ebbing and flowing as Steve types and retypes whatever it is he wants to say. Eddie is about ready to call it a wash and start googling sheep farms for sale in Ireland when a new text comes in, dispelling all thoughts of learning to sheer wool.
Steve H: Are you sure?
And fuck if that doesn't hurt his heart. Eddie has spent all of two and a half hours with Steve, he's a virtual stranger, but Eddie can swear he can feel all of Steve's secondhand insecurity through that one lonely sentence. Before he even registers what he's asking, he send a quick reply.
Eddie: Can I Facetime you?
Before Eddie can try to rethink his decision, his screen lights up with a notification. Steve is calling him.
Eddie scrambles to answer, fumbling his phone a little in his haste and almost missing the call completely. He manages to get it on the last ring, breathing heavily in a way he knows can't be flattering.
All thoughts about his lack of dexterity fly out the window when he looks into his screen. On their date, Steve was perfectly put together. Hair meticulously done, clothes freshly pressed, and a light sheen of lipgloss accentuating the perfect curve of his mouth. While Steve is still beautiful through the lens of his camera, it's clear that he's been crying. His eyes are red and a little puffy, hair out of order in a way Eddie thinks is probably unusual for him, and Eddie can see that he's wearing a well-loved beige hoodie.
"Hi," Steve says, waving a shy hand almost the same way he had last night.
"Hey sweetheart," Eddie says, keeping his voice low and gentle, desperate to soothe Steve however he can through the distance of their phones.
For a minute they just look at each other, neither one knowing what to say in a situation like this. Eddie sees Steve gearing up to say something, but he cuts in before he starts. There's something he needs to say while Steve can see him face to face.
"I'm really sorry about what happened!" He says, much lounder than he intended. "My friends were being dicks. I haven't dated in a while and instead of being normal fucking people they set up this whole stupid prank but I swear I wasn't in on it!"
Something about what he says draws a small smile from the corner of Steve's mouth, so Eddie keeps talking. "Besides, if they wanted to prank me they should have picked someone that isn't a literal fucking model in disguise. There wasn't a chance in hell I wasn't going to beg you for that second date."
At that, Steve gives a little chuckle and it lifts Eddie's heart from where it'd fallen onto the floor and puts in back in his chest 10 times lighter than before.
"Jesus, are you always such a flirt Munson?" he says.
"Only when the boys are especially pretty," Eddie responds.
Steve gives another little laugh at that before sobering up. He gives Eddie a long look through the phone, and Eddie lets him.
"Are you sure you don't want to just call it quits here man? Gareth was pretty adamant that I'm not the kind of guy you usually go for. I don't want you to feel like you have to humor me out of kindness." There's a forced flippancy to Steve's words that Eddie knows well from his own Munson Coping Strategies Handbook. Steve is trying to give him an out, but Eddie can tell that he doesn't want to.
For the first time since this all started, Eddie is well and truly mad. Gareth and Jeff had absolutely no business poking around in his love life in the first place, but now they've reached out to the guy Eddie already told them he liked to what? Tell him never mind actually, we don't think you're the right guy for our friend even though he told us very explicitly how into you he is.
Eddie lets all the frustration, anger, and tenuous hope building up in his chest fuel his reply. This one has to count, he can feel it. It's a charisma saving throw with the whole campaign on the line. He can't miss this one.
"Honestly Steve, if you asked me two days ago what I was looking for in a partner, I probably would have said I wanted to date another alternative metalhead or punk who likes playing DnD and getting high on the weekend." Eddie can see Steve's shoulders slump as his eyes dart away, but he pushes on, determined to make his point.
"But, I haven't had as good a time as we had last night in a really long time." Steve looks back up, eyes alight with the same tentative hope Eddie himself is channeling. "I think you're funny and interesting, and you have the absolute worst takes on ice cream flavors, and you're hot as hell. Like, seriously the hottest guy I've ever seen in real life."
Steve smiles, the edges of his eyes crinkling.
Critical success.
"So, about that second date."
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