#I do want to watch the show solely for her now

[angelflms]

Cobra Kai has a tone-deaf problem.

Now, I am a Black woman so all of my observations are through the lenses of that. You can critique my words all you want, but don't be disrespectful because I will be equally as disrespectful in the replies.

I have this phenomenon that I've noticed for a lot of shows I have watched called The Leo Dooley effect, inspired by character from Lab Rats, where the main character, a POC who set the tone for the whole story, is surrounded by a white ensemble cast that slowly but surely pushes that character aside to serve their purpose.

Cobra Kai does the same thing with Miguel Diaz, as he seems to be the sole reason why any of these things on the show are happening (for better or for worse) and gets one of the worst character driven storylines throughout the series post-coma (I rewrote his story on my blog. Go find it under the Miguel or Xolo hashtags) to further make the show The Robby Show (we'll get into the tone-deaf writing of his character this past season in a minute). He becomes a shell of a character, empty, boring, and in the sidelines all up until the final season, where the writers seem to remember *snaps fingers* oh shit, Miguel's one of our protagonists, and writes an okay story for him. Better than his s5 plot, but not as good as the stuff we got in s1, 2, and the last half of 3 and 4.

Now, s6 has him in his true prime (not in the way people claimed he was in the past seasons). He's got a clear mind, he's goals-oriented, you wouldn't even be able to tell that this kid was paralyzed from the waist down a year ago (in-universe time). However, he's out-performing everyone, was single-handedly saving his team, and it wasn't even enough for Johnny. It was very interesting to watch as People of Color, especially Black and Brown people, tend to have to go above and beyond to prove that we're the shit, but it'll never amount to anything if our white associates (minus Devon in this case - more on her later) aren't doing anything. But the second they do, everyone is getting praised. Miguel knocked his opponent out in forty seconds. FORTY SECONDS. But because the team wasn't doing good overall, he got no attention. I know that feeling all too well and it sucks.

As much as I thought Johnny's "Miguel is our anchor" line was powerful, it also didn't at the same time. The Magical Negro is such an annoying stereotype, as well as the Strong Black Woman/Man, and the Brown and Asian variations that come with it.

Miguel is the Brown equivalent of the Magical Negro, trying to tell the white Johnny what's right and wrong. Teaching him what's okay to say and what's not, despite Johnny being grown enough to probably understand shit on his own. He basically is teaching Johnny in a sense despite the fact that it should be the other way around. And I know that's a typical mentor/mentee thing trope but with how the show goes out of its way to show how self aware of modern problems it is, it's hella tone-deaf.

In terms of the Strong Black Man trope (or in this case Brown), Miguel isn't always strong. He breaks down and cries pretty often but it's viewed by the fandom as annoying, weak, and pathetic, as well as not manly which pisses me all the way off because every time he gets emotional, it's with valid reason. Losing his girlfriend (both times), finding out he's paralyzed, apologizing for running away, his mom possibly dying, not getting into Stanford (tho this would've had more of a punch if Stanford actually mattered but it doesn't whatever). Also, he's a 16/17 year old Brown kid in poverty who was embarrassingly bullied MULTIPLE TIMES. You're telling me you didn't cry as a kid? But when Robby cries every once in a while (which is also equally as valid because he was also a kid in poverty who was bullied), everyone holds his hand and says "it's okay."

"He's our anchor." It just sounds so off to me. Like has to be the one to help everyone else, when you have two Captains who can do the exact same thing. We as POCs have to be the ones to hold down the fort and keep things steady on our backs while white people can settle for mediocrity and not have to do to much because "hey, the POCs got us." It's just like that "if you're in danger, find a Black woman" thing. Because we're expected to be the ones to save y'all when y'all are in trouble. But when the roles reverse, we're expected to save ourselves because we're strong. Y'all don't like it when Miguel isn't emotionally or physically tough because y'all expect him to push through since he's the main character, but it also feels like he's expected to push through because he's a Brown boy in poverty so he's been through enough.

Tory's "we have to fight to get a spot in life" speech was well performed by Peyton List but it felt strange to see a white woman explain privilege to a Brown boy who has less privilege in comparison to her. I have always had a problem with that scene and I never won't have an issue with it.

Moving on to Kenny. Kenny is the only Black character of current time to be in the ensemble. Aisha was on the show but left ofc. Kenny, like Miguel was brutally picked on, primarily by white kids, especially by white rich boy Anthony LaRusso. In the fandom Anthony tends to be the more favored overall. Kenny is primarily favored on the Black side of the fandom (much like Miguel). Similar to Miguel, there was a moment in s6 part two that may have not been intentional but in my eyes, felt very racially targeted.

Hawk and Demetri were very skeptical towards Kenny because they assumed that he was working with Silver despite the fact that Kenny didn't even want to do the Sekai Tekai to begin with after he became publicly bullied again. During a round of tag-teamed fighting, the boys refused to let Kenny in, causing them to lose the round due to Robby not being prepared to be tagged in (he thought they were gonna tag Kenny). Kenny gets mad, rightfully so but the boys didn't back down on their theory (the only reason this theory was even a thing was because they say Kenny and Silver talking and assumed the worst). It took the team's "anchor" to give Robby a pep talk to lead and the others will follow (you know, something a Captain should already know) for Kenny to get the attention he deserves. And then Hawk and Demetri finally accept Kenny. All because the white guy said "hey, we should tag him in."

That sounds so off in so many ways.

It wasn't intentional, I know. But the fact that this was something that happened and the boys didn't even apologize to Kenny after for the assumptions they made only furthers my point on how tone deaf this show can get. Amanda, Miguel, and Robby are literally the only people who see Kenny as more than just a Silver puppet and it sucks because Hawk and Demetri were in the same spot as Kenny once upon a time.

And then there's Devon, the overworking, overwhelmed Asian girlie who tries her hardest to seek validation and gets overlooked. Similar to Miguel in this new part, Devon got ignored badly in the first part. It was so bad that she cheated to get into the Sekai Tekai and got her ass handed to her. And like Miguel, it takes her to have to explain to her white sensei that she's being ignored for him for her to be taken seriously. She's not the best fighter by any means but I thought we were done with this Asian stereotype years ago. And the way Sam talked to her after literally celebrating her victory with all smiles and everything in the first part??? Like it felt so fake as hell.

Finally, Robby. Robby is written well, we all know that. But this shit that they did to him in the second part pissed me off, especially since it's not gonna get addressed apparently. So Robby gets drunk at a bar and basically follows Zara back to her hotel room. Next time we see them, he's disoriented, and she's kissing him. I'm sorry, but that's sexual assault, yes? Robby was drunk and didn't remember anything. So that's her taking advantage of him, yes? Well the creator apparently doesn't think so and is saying that Robby made a mistake and that the interaction won't be talked about next part.

Bitch, Robby is a VICTIM.

Zara sexually assaulted him. Just because he's a man doesn't change the fact that the man got taken advantage of by Zara.

Like did we watch the same scene?

This show has so many problems and I feel like since it's a show about fighting no one cares. But as a Black woman, I see this shit and in between the lines, there's so many issues that won't even get fixed because the show is over.

[cherryssodapop]

you do know that Billy is racist right...

*sighhhhhhhh* Alright, here we go…

Typically I don’t like getting into this argument because you’re not supposed to argue with a POC about what’s racist and what isn’t (I don’t actually know if you are poc or not this is a general statement I’m making), I know I don’t because it just doesn’t feel right, but here’s the thing.

When it comes to this character the one line he said that everyone’s going crazy for I’m going to have to disagree here because it’s just 1. too vague of a statement, of course you could argue that Billy talking about Lucas’ skin colour is implied in his statement and I agree, but not for the reasons you think.

And 2. there’s a reason Dacre changed this scene with the duffers regarding Billy’s potential racism because you’re creating a character who’s an antagonist who originally had no reason to be bad (until Dacre suggested the scene with his father) and then you wanna add racism into the mix? if the duffers really wanted to bring up the issue of racism during the 80s especially in small secluded areas like Hawkins, I’m pretty sure it would’ve been an actual subplot, but no they just wanted to use it as an additional reason to make Billy’s character initially unlikeable and it was so poorly written into the script and also Dacre was just straight up uncomfortable acting out that whole sequence so we can safely say the concept of Billy being a racist is scrapped from canon all together. I’m explaining this from the perspective of a film student because you can’t write an antagonist without a plausible reason and motive to be bad, so Dacre humanizing him and giving him that back story and lore is exactly what you do when it comes to character work, especially for antagonists like Billy (unless you wanna make the villain a basic villain with a basic story arc who’s sole purpose is to get in the hero’s way and die trying but in this case Billy never did that. He never really got into anyone’s way besides at the end of season 2 but it’s because he had no idea what’s going on and in HIS mind he thinks he’s saving Max from a fucked up situation. And im not even going to start with season 3 because we all know; bro was possessed, he wasn’t himself, Vecna was acting out entirely through him Billy had no say in any of it. In fact he even showed remorse and shame during the little time Vecna let him be in control of himself before abruptly taking over.) Also, yes you can be from an educated and woke society (California is a blue state and the equal opportunities act in the states already passed and Billy leaves for hawkins in fall 1984 so it’s already well established in society at that time that being racist is not acceptable) and still be a bigot, but I really just don’t believe this is the case for Billy.

What I think the issue here is his father, now hear me out, hear me out.

In the book “Runaway Max” it is brought up that Neil is a huge supporter of Reagen who at the time was a republican and attempted to abolish the equal opportunities act bill but ultimately failed of course. Max even says it herself that Neil is racist and a white supremacist. What does that tell you? His father is the whole problem. Because we all know that Billy gets beaten and blamed for everything that happens whether it’s Max’s fault or his Neil will take any excuse to physically hurt Billy. And being how Neil is so adamant on Billy watching over Max and being in charge of her, what would happen if Neil caught Max with Lucas who is black and we know Neil’s views on that demographic of people? What do you think would happen?

Of course, we could also bring up that if Billy was racist it would be a learned behaviour from his father. Though, to be honest, considering how much Billy tries to rebel against his father, I think it’s safe to say that would include Neil’s morals and beliefs, so I highly doubt it.

Going back to my first point, I think Billy did say that about Lucas not because he hates Lucas but because his father would and would take out that well known hatred out on Billy. It was more of a warning for both of their safety because of how insane Neil is. That’s why I think Billy said that and acted that way in terms of their friendship because he doesn’t want to deal with the consequences of his father’s wrath.

We can also see this in season 3, when Billy is working full time, starting to take control of his life (likely saving up money so he could leave and move back to California) he doesn’t even care about what Max is doing let alone dating Lucas, he’s too busy trying to get his life together.

So no, I don’t think Billy is a racist and I’ve listed all of my reasons why from a canonical standpoint using evidence from the story, plus my own analysis on his character as an actor myself.

Now from a shifter’s standpoint; I really don’t wanna hear y’all judge my choice of S/O considering some of y’all shift for active psychopaths and murderers meanwhile I’m shifting for a dude who’s been deeply traumatized and wants to live his life in peace and find true love.

To conclude; this is entirely my opinion and my belief on the topic. If you believe the opposite you’re fully entitled to, no one’s gonna attack you or try to convince you otherwise. But the thing is with people like myself who like Billy’s character and indulge in his lore and fanfiction we’re constantly getting criticized and harassed and even as far as labeled as bad people just because we view him from a different perspective. I believe it’s time we all grow up and respect each other’s opinions because not everyone agrees with everyone and that’s the way of the world. freedom of thought freedom of speech.

(goddamn this was a long rant but i had to say my peace)

[donna-medusa-gorgon]

I still haven’t watched Hazbin yet but everything online made me want to draw Rosie and Donna SO BAD

So here’s them based off that wlw art challenge! It’s based on the cover of Jessie Dumont “I Prefer Girls”

[triglycercule]

guys i havent written since may (for killer's birthday) but stupid silly swapinverse has been on my mind for a little bit and i threw together this silly (he has a panic attack and throws up) little short draft 4 swapinverse horror!!

-

“hah… ah… oh god… no, no, nonono…”

he ran. sprinted through the forest like a frightened deer, his demeanor that of prey, although his previous actions aligned more of a predator. panting and shaking, his mind cycled through countless variations of how to react to what just happened, what he just did.

how should he react? how could he react? it was impossible to tell for him in the panicked state. and as the trees in snowdin slowly began to surround him (but weren't they always doing that?), paranoia couldn't run anymore. he was surrounded, he was blocked off, he couldn't escape. not from horrortale, not from snowdin, not from the dusty graveyard he had just left it, and not from the blood smeared across his mouth.

“no, i- what did, what did i do? paps, snowdin, even-undick, no, it-”

paranoia’s incoherent rambles brought his hands to wander across his face, tugging at the massive hole in his skull spanning majority of the left side of his head. picking at the chipped bone didn't help, it never did, but a nervous habit was unbreakable, and he was more than nervous in this moment. in fact, quite terrified. everything was terrifying. he was terrifying. and as the slightest hint of red blood touched his sleeve, the once red, now magenta eye quickly locked onto it, and he couldn't hold it back anymore.

“fuck- oh god, no, aliza-!”

falling to his knees, a disgustingly gorey mess of red, pink, and black spilled from his mouth. sounds of retching and hurling were all that filled the empty forest, and paranoia couldn't bear to look down and see the mess he’d made. the mess he’s caused. wasted food, he would've said. but that statement normally only applied to others. he never imagined using it on himself. choking on his spit and certainly not his blood, tears fell from his eye, joining the vomit and blood seeping into the snow. strange. paranoia didn't think he had enough magic to even shed tears anymore. just for the bare necessities. he managed to surprise even himself, after all this time.

but could it be could be considered surprise, or rather terror? he fit up to his name, certainly horrified at his own actions. forcing out as much of the grossness he could that he’d just consumed, paranoia couldn't help but look down at what he’d done.

red. a lot of red. too much red. he’d never been queasy before, never. he had to adapt to it, being the one to hunt down humans that ran or sneak up on those when times got desperate. there was no time or need to be queasy at what he even considered his job before. a duty he had to do.

but now, there was too much red. far too much red. and he didn't know why, although he totally knew, but paranoia couldn't stomach it. he just threw his guts out (shouldn't they be aliza’s guts, or no?), and here he was, wanting to throw up until his SOUL shattered. his SOUL cycled through those strange 4 shapes, unsure of which to settle on. he couldn't blame it. paranoia himself was unsure of what was even going on anymore. he wanted to run, but was frozen. he wanted to scream, but didn't know who at.

everything was contradicting. everything was going on, and not enough was given for paranoia to understand how to deal with it. and with a muttered curse, he flopped on his side onto the somehow dry snow, losing consciousness in the haze of fear now intermingled with his SOUL.

-

ik theres probably grammar mistakes i wrote this on my phone,,,, but like idk. had idea for a little moment in paranoia's lore and i sure as hell didn't wanna draw it so i wrote it as an easier media! god this is so much easier compared to drawing idk why i dont do this more often (because youre lazy silly!) anyways swapinverse silly i love swapinverse. i've only thrown up like never so i dont know if this works. also never had a panic attack (i think) and AGAIN i dont know if this is accurate but whatever i dont write to be good i write for expressing my ideas. like everything i do

[lieutenantselnia]

Internet archive I love you❤️❤️❤️

[ashlynlovestlou]

abby x anxious! virgin! reader

synopsis: abby teaches her an anxiety-ridden virgin girlfriend how to have sex.

cw: NSFW , abby x reader , smut , abby talks you through it , thigh riding , sub! reader , soft dom! abby , afab! reader , dry humping , use of pet names

masterlist

abby's been your girlfriend for a few months now, but you've been putting off having sex with her. solely because of your stupid nerves.

the thought of being naked in front of someone, then hearing your noises and seeing your face and touching your most intimate spots that nobody has reached before. it made you panic just thinking about it.

but abby knew of your fears. she was patient, and she cared about you more than anything on god's green earth.

so when your twice-weekly date came around on a friday night, something felt off. you'd been horny before, and usually you knew how to take care of it, but not quite like this. your legs were tingling and there was an ache where aches shouldn't be.

of course abby, being the observant girlfriend she is, noticed your squirming halfway through the movie the two of you were watching.

"what's wrong, baby?" she asks, looking down at you with a furrowed brow.

"huh? nothing." you respond quickly, crossing your legs and leaning against her shoulder.

abby knew better than to believe you, "you okay? you seem squirmy."

"i'm okay." you respond, a little too quickly. her suspicions only rose because of your soft and nervous tone, "just feel a little weird."

"weird how? you got a stomach ache?"

"no."

"then what–" she stops what she's saying, a shit-eating grin growing on her face, "oh."

you don't respond, biting your bottom lip and unsure what to do. you could sneak away to the bathroom to try to get off on your own. but you know abby has been waiting so patiently for this moment.

"youre horny, yeah?"

your heart sinks in your chest. it took you a moment to realize how she figured it out so quickly. she saw your squirms and the way your thighs flexed every once in a while, trying to create some friction for yourself.

she spreads her thighs apart a bit, creating a perfect manspread. she taps her lap, "come sit. let me take care of it for you."

"abby, i dunno.."

"baby." she says, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, "i promise i can make you feel so much better than your pillow can. c'mon, sweet pea."

you hesitate, nibbling on your bottom lip. your heart was in your throat, and you were fidgeting with your earlobe. one of your anxious habits.

she tugs your hand away from your ear, kissing your knuckles. she gently tugs you forward into her, "i won't hurt you, sweet girl. c'mon, honey." she guides you by the hips to straddle her lap. she rubs her thumbs up and down the soft plush of your thighs, "let me show you, okay?"

you nod, swallowing the lump in your throat. she takes her shirt off first so that you don't feel embarrassed to do the same. once she's down to her black sports bra she slowly takes yours off too, giving you time to stop her if you wanted.

but you don't, so she keeps going.

once the two of you are both in your underwear, her warm and bulky hands settle on your hips, "you okay?"

you nod, unsure where to put your hands. she notices this and laughs softly, "i'll walk you through it, okay?"

"okay..."

"tell me what you do to your little pillow when you feel like this, baby."

"i.. um.." you struggle to get the words out, your cheeks red from embarrassment, "i put it between my legs."

"hmm.." she hums, "then what?"

"i like.. clamp it there."

she plays with your hair, her entire hand embracing the side of your head, "and it makes you feel good? riding your little pillow?" you nod sheepishly, resting your head on her shoulder, "show me."

"what?"

"i want you to make yourself feel good. i know you wanna." she says, kissing your hairline.

"abby, i dont know how–"

she gives your hips a little squeeze, starting to guide you to grind on her lap. the cloth of her boxers rubs against the sheer fabric of your lacy panties, the feeling alone making you gush. you whimper as you feel yourself getting wetter. you're tempted to get off her lap so she doesn't feel the dampness coming from your cunt. she notices you starting to hover, so she pulls you back down. "don't be embarrassed. i want to see you feel good." she guides your hips to move a bit faster, and you moan in response, "can i touch you?"

you look at her, confused because she's already touching you.

she glances down at your crotch rubbing against her lap, then she looks back up at you, "down there, sweet girl. please, honey. wanna feel how wet you are."

you nod, your nerves starting to dissipate.

she snakes a hand down your stomach, her fingertips sliding into your panties. when the pads of her fingers meet your folds she groans, "oh, baby... you ever been this wet before?"

you shake your head, rubbing yourself against her digits.

"there you go, grind down just like that, mhm."

her words of encouragement make you speed up a little bit. she beams at you, so proud that her girl is finally comfortable enough to let her feel you in such an intimate place.

"gonna go inside, okay?" she says before slipping two of her fingers inside your sopping cunt. you moan at the intrusion, your movements switching from back and forth to up and down.

abby chuckles, kissing your cheek. she's so happy that she can finally see her baby in this light. on her lap, a moaning mess, "you're so pretty, mama."

you smile and open your eyes to look at abby. she pecks your forehead, rubbing tight circles around your swollen bud. you clean around her and she pulls you closer so your chest is flush against hers. she knew you were close before you did, guiding your hips to bounce on her fingers faster.

when you finally come undone you mutter tens of 'thank you's' into her ear. you'd made yourself feel good many times, but you'd never felt quite like this.

"thank you, abby." you whisper to her.

she nods in response, "no need to thank me. next time you feel like that, you come to me, m'kay?"

you hum in agreement, closing your eyes and starting to drift to sleep.

[nezuscribe]

an idea I have in mind because I think too much about arranged Gojo.

at some point, when they're already happy and in love, they meet her sisters again. Maybe they are hosting some party or his mother invited them to the seaside house like in the past. Reader is in much a better place now personally. What’s more, she’s in a better position in the hierarchy than she was before. She's a sweetheart and a kind person. So she doesn’t care about any of that, she just wants to live her quiet, happy life with Gojo. Gojo, however, is a different story... he's heard and saw enough of how her sisters treated her and he's a petty man. A very petty man. For the duration of the visit, Gojo makes it his sole mission to flaunt their happiness. He insists on buying her the finest dresses and jewelry, making sure she’s never seen wearing the same outfit twice. Every day, he presents her with another gift, just to remind everyone of how she's adorned now. He sticks to her side at all times, while the other women are left alone when their boring husbands goes hunting or something like that. And he doesn't stop to show, verbally and physically, how he loves and admires her. Maybe, just to make his point even clearer, he asks for their rooms to be on the same floor. So they'll get a 24/7 show of the great treatment she gets.

so when i was writting the arrangment i wanted to add some scenes with readers family but it didn't work out so i think this is a great opportunity to expand on that

and totally. the thing abt reader that i hope people take away is that she's had to be stronghearted to survive in the conditions she's been brought up in, but because of that she just wants to live peacefully and quietly. she's elated that she gets a caring husband on top of it, but she just goes to the beat of her own drum and if people can't then she doesn't really care

but when this little get-together is planned at the gojo summer home, something customary and necessary, both reader and gojo dread it. reader because she doesn't like her sisters and father's wife and gojo because he hates your sisters and your father's wife

so gojo shows you off whenever he can. the two of you haven't had sex yet and he's fine with that, he's trying to find the best moment anyway, but he's so touchy it's insane. his arm is either around your waist, in yours, or sometimes around your neck if he wants to show you something from where he's standing

you're wearing the highest fashion, the best jewelry, and expensive oils. your sisters gawk and groan, but what else can they do? their husbands are old and ugly and don't give a rats ass about them, and you couldn't be more content

and this one time when all the younger people are around the lake gojo brings you onto his lap to open up the seat for one of your other friends, letting you curl up into his strong chest as he wraps a blanket over you. and your sisters watch in pure jealousy as you giggle at some of the things he tells you, watch as he blushes unabashedly when you kiss his forehead

arranged!gojo just loves you too much and there's nothing wrong with that

[shiimmer]

cherry kiss

sevika x f!stripper!reader

warnings! pole dancing (if that can be taken as a warning), public sex(??), fingering, orgasm denial, pussy slapping, slight choking, cunnilingus, masturbating, hair pulling, dom!sevika, sub!reader, sevika is a bit mean but we love it, she gets called ma’am once

men and minors dni!!

no mentions of y/n, but reader is called by her stage name cherry

word count: 3.4k words (i got a little too passionate…)

ৎ୭ summary: sevika found herself in a strip club, only to end up getting a lot more than a simple lap dance.

note: wrote smut for the first time in years, and idk how to feel. excuse me if this is absolutely shit, i was sleep deprived every time i was writing this. sorry for any errors, english isn’t my first language. not proofread!!

it isn’t exactly the place sevika usually finds herself in. strip clubs are not her thing. she prefers action over mere watching, but today just wasn’t it. not even a good lay in babette’s brothel can save her sour mood, which is more than surprising even for her. she doesn’t even know why she’s here. she just needs a distraction, and she knows the quietness of her place would only deepen her stress, which is something she really does not want right now, no matter how well she can handle it.

so here she is, in a strip club, surrounded by cheap smelling perfume, neon signs casting some light around the dimly lit place. boasting laughter, cheers and all sorts of other noises she’d rather block out from men around her fill her ears as they watch women dancing on the stage and sway around the pole. sevika, however, is completely silent. almost eerily so.

she just watches. glares, more like as she sits in the booth, awaiting another stripper nicknamed cherry, as the announcer says. ‘silly choice of a name,’ she thinks. her leg bounces under the table, swirling the whisky she just took a sip of on her tongue as the curtain spreads open, revealing you, and her body goes still. it’s like a spell, and sevika isn’t quite sure what has her so mesmerized the second you appear on that long, runway-like stage, neon lights shining on your almost naked body, the way they enhance the confident aura you give out. her grey eyes are focused solely on you, almost as if she’s judging your every movement. from the sway of your hips, to the subtle bounce of your breasts in that skimpy red bra as you stride toward the pole and your fingers wrap around the metal one by one.

a low hum rumbles in the back of her throat, a mixture of curiosity and appreciation while watching you perform. you clearly know what you’re doing, that sevika can see, and it works. even on her. she’d rather die than admit it out loud to anyone, but you have your charm to you and she likes it.

it’s like she’s not even blinking, at least that’s how it feels to you. you notice the woman’s gaze the second you approach the pole, and how it never moves away, not even when she takes a sip of her whisky. your coworkers shared their experience whenever they left the stage, saying how sevika’s glare caused them to nearly mess up their performance. in all honesty, it had made you nervous yourself while you waited for your own turn. dancing before a woman of such power, it’s nothing like dancing for all those nobodies who salivate over a sliver of skin shown. but as you had taken a first step on that stage, with your gaze immediately falling on her, all of that vanishes into something else, something you just can’t explain with words.

you give it your all, making sure to give her the show she never forgets and possibly needs, based on the worn out look she wears on her face. your body moves to the rhythm of the same song you always have to dance to. the song you’re normally so sick of, now gives you a rush. you dance with newfound passion, happy to show off your skills and body to silco’s number two. you play with her, yet you give her the most of you. fingertips lingering on your skin a second longer as you caress your body, from your hips to your breasts. looking over your shoulder when you’re turned towards the pole, the corners of your lips twitching up when you bend forward, showing off your thong-clad rear. it’s all for her, and you are absolutely enjoying the attention.

the endless cheering and lewd comments from men are fully blocked in your mind, your goal as clear as piltover’s sky. you want to make this woman watch you until the very end, to have her gaze on you and you only.

and oh, does it work. sevika’s gaze does not move away from you even when your performance ends and you go back backstage, and you’re certain her eyes are focused on your thighs as you walk. the euphoria you feel after this dance was nothing you’ve ever experienced. for the first time since working here, you’re almost disappointed that you had to leave the stage. your theme song that usually drags on suddenly felt short. you want to give her more of you, all of you.

you sulk in your seat, fixing up your neatly done makeup. there isn’t any need to fix it, you just want to get your mind off of the woman, but it’s completely useless. her grey eyes pollute your brain, and you can still see them when you close your eyes. never in your life were you this desperate for someone, it’s almost embarrassing. you sigh and put the makeup brush done, pursing your lips together. you wonder if you’ll see her again, if you’ll get to dance for her just like you had just a moment ago. you would give her more than just a plain dance show, so much more.

your thoughts get abruptly interrupted by your boss, her voice loud and demanding as she calls out to you. all you can do is hold back an eye roll and get up from the chair, making her way over to her with a look that can only be described as ‘i don’t get paid enough for this.’

“you’re expected in the vip salon,” she bites, her wrinkles crinkling under that heavy layer of makeup. “it’s a very important guest. don’t fuck it up.”

she taps your chest with her point finger, long nail stabbing your skin, and leaves the backstage. you watch her arrogant stomp, scoffing under your breath as soon as she’s far enough from you to not hear it. she calls every guest important, even the scummiest man in zaun is a ‘special guest.’ you know why she says it, she wants you to do your best, to not embarrass her brand, but it quickly gets annoying than encouraging.

your heels thump against the floor as you walk slowly to the salon, your mind running at full speed. you can only hope it’s sevika, but a part of you doubts it. there is no way she liked your performance so much she’d pay for private dance, right?

oh, how wrong you were.

the second you open the fluffy curtain, you’re met with those same steel eyes, belonging to none other than sevika. you eye her up and down, taking in the way she sits on the couch, her muscular thighs spread open and her exposed arm thrown over the backrest. you linger on the bare part of her lower stomach, abs peeking out of the crop top and v-line disappearing under the waistband of her pants. it’s a downright sinful sight, almost picture worthy.

“i didn’t pay for you to just stand there, did i?” her deep voice catches you off guard, and your eyes travel back up to her face. she’s smirking at you, fully aware of your gawking.

you can only pray to janna to survive this dance, secluded in a small room with this dangerously sexy woman.

“right. sorry,” you give her a small apologetic grin while walking to the small music box in the corner to tune in a song.

your hands are shaking a little, but it’s hardly nervousness. it’s excitement, anticipation, maybe even a hint of arousal. your blood is running hot, and you can feel a kick of energy, as if dosed on shimmer. none of your customers made you feel this way, but her.

your hands are already wrapped around the silver pole with your back facing her, ready to move to the music until her voice echoed in your ears.

“come here.”

your whole body stiffens, the music blocked out in your mind. being a stripper for years, never had you actually danced in front of a client. it’s sort of a rule for you; just watch but no touch, but when it comes to sevika, you are more than ready to forget it all just to please her. you pull yourself away from the pole and walk up to her, hands running over your sides. her eyes never leave your face and, by the gods, shivers run down your spine in waves, running all the way between your legs.

three more steps, and you finally stand between her spread thighs, and only now that you stand so close you notice just how damn thick they are. she looked better up close, no art or photo of her could do her justice, that you are sure of. a smirk makes its way on sevika’s lips as she watches your hips sway, your fingertips tap and stroke your skin. she is so into it, her hand is practically itching to just grab you by the waist and drag you down on her thigh.

it’s as if your minds link for a moment, because your smaller hand finds hers, guiding it to your stomach. sevika doesn’t react, at least not visibly, though you can’t say that about yourself. the second her rough, calloused palm runs over your abdomen to your hip, your body reacts on its own, almost like it isn’t even connected to your brain. she pulls you down on her leg, chuckling under her breath as your breath hitches. she has you where she wants you, and you can only comply to her every wish.

“babette’s is a few blocks away, y’know?” you mutter breathlessly, and you can only curse yourself out for how affected you are by her mere presence. it’s embarrassing, humiliating even, but you are oh so close to not give a single fuck. “someone can catch us here.”

sevika chuckles once more, liking your slightly mouthy attitude. it makes her want to put you in your place, take out her bad mood on you in all the ways she can. “by the way you’re reacting, i doubt you even give a damn,” her voice fills your ears, laced with a playful biting tone. “cherry.”

you suddenly feel coldness of a metal on your arm, pointy ridges of metal fingers digging into the flesh. she moves you around like a rag doll, like you weight nothing to her, until you straddle both of her legs and your thighs are spread apart. “tell me, what kind of services can you offer for extra coin?” she teases you, her thick fingers toying and pulling on the string of your thongs, making it snap back to your skin. “besides a little lap dance.”

the air is thick with tension, pushing down on your shoulders. it’s an intense, sexual sensation, one you can barely get enough of. you feel as if you are getting dragged by the ankle into the deep pit of unbridled lust, and it bubbles deep in your belly. you crave her.

you yearn for her.

“for you? anything,” you muster up the last bits of your attitude and smirk at her, your hand coming up to her right shoulder to steady yourself. “free of charge.”

it’s all sevika needs, and in a matter of seconds, she pounces on you, her lips running along your pulse. she doesn’t kiss, not yet. she merely toys with you, shapes you to her liking until you are but a mess. every touch of hers has a purpose, and unlike in a brothel, she is taking her sweet damn time. she’s frustrating herself by this point, all of the shit she had to deal with were simmering under the lid and ready to leak out, but something in her told her to utterly wreck you.

the music continues to play, silencing every small noise that escapes from your mouth. her fingers start to travel lower, following the fabric of the lace until the fingertips hover just above your clothed clit. she doesn’t even brush over it, yet you can feel your cunt clench around nothing. you bit on your bottom lip as sevika’s fingers linger on your thong, cheap cherry taste of your lipstick hitting your tongue.

“means that i can do this, right?” she asks into your skin, finally putting pressure on your clit. you jump in her lap, the sudden touch making you flinch away.

sevika doesn’t let you move away. she only chuckles when her mechanical arm goes down to your hip, pinning you to her lap like you are her trophy. there is no way she’s letting you go now, she wants to see you tremble.

your mind is hazy, and so foggy you can barely think of anything other than her, and the feeling of her fingers circling over your sensitive clit.

“do anything you want. i’m here to give you a show, aren’t i?” you try to keep your bravado, but it collapses like a house of cards the second her hand slips under the fabric, touching your cunt.

“fuck, you’re wet,” she laughs at you, pulling away from the crook of your neck to look into your eyes. “are you that desperate, or what?”

you cry out in pleasure as an answer, which is all she needs. her fingers tease your clit, circling it, pinching it between her thumb and point finger, which only makes you wetter for her. it’s as if you’ve never had a good fuck in your life, and she is there to fix that.

sevika continues to tease you for a few lingering seconds, simply enjoying the sight of you crumbling beneath her touch, until she moves lower and leaves your swollen bundle of nerves twitching, yearning for contact. she doesn’t waste time to slip not one, but two of her fingers into your drenched hole, stretching it out.

“oh fuck,” you groan out once you feel her fingers move, pumping into you in a rough, but slow pace.

she keeps them curled just right, brushing over that sweet spot that makes your back arch and your eyes roll back. it’s clear that she is experienced, because she knows just how to touch you to keep you shivering in her lap. you drop your head to look at her hand moving between your legs, but sevika doesn’t allow you that for long.

her prosthetic hand shoots up to your neck, cocking your head upwards to keep you from looking away. she only applies little pressure to your throat, not hard enough to choke you out, but rather a little warning.

“eyes on me, cherry,” she rasps out, her eyes so intense it sends shivers down your spine. “be a good girl.”

her voice has you clenching around her fingers, pathetic mewls of pleasure rolling out of your mouth. you have no choice but to keep your gaze on her, your sight blurry and slightly unfocused as sevika’s fingers continue to fuck your cunt. as much as she enjoys the sounds you’re making, your voice is slowly starting to get louder than the music that still plays in the background.

with the metal hand on your throat, she tugs you forward, crashing her lips on your in a bruising kiss to swallow the moans you’re letting out. she doesn’t give you a chance to let you dominate the kiss as her tongue slides into your mouth. she is in charge, and she’s letting you know it.

the taste of hard liquor and smoke hits your tongue, but you’re too deep in pleasure to cringe at the taste. in all honesty it turns you on even more. the sensation of her thick fingers, pumping in and out of your drenched pussy combined with her mouth on yours make you go crazy. you are so close, your orgasm just a few thrusts away.

the way your walls clench and unclench tells sevika that you’re about to cum, but where is the fun in giving you what you want so early. she pulls her fingers out, and when you try to whine in protest, she lands a few hard smacks on your cunt. you can feel the slaps even through the fabric of your lingerie, that’s how rough she is.

“not yet, cherry. i’m far from done with you,” she mumbles when she pulls away from the kiss, her lips glistening with the mixture of your and her saliva. she grins, reaching for one of many fluffy cushions and throwing it on the floor underneath you. “on your knees.”

she lets go of your throat, letting you sink down on the floor. your knees nuzzle into the softness of the pillow, hands falling on the buckle of her belt to undo it. sevika lifts her hips when you unbutton her pants, letting you pull them down along with her underwear. she pulls one leg out to spread her legs more, giving you space to get closer.

you don’t dive in right away. instead, you run your tongue over her thighs, all while looking up at her. it’s like your little revenge on her for teasing you before, and for not letting you cum. sevika grits her teeth, her nostrils flaring a little. a woman normally with patience of steel is suddenly a ticking bomb, ready to explode.

her real hand moves to your hair, grabbing a fistful of the strands. she doesn’t pull at it, but her grip is tight. “don’t test my patience. not today.”

the tone of her voice, authoritative and commanding gives you chills, your cunt once again clenching around nothing. your eyes wander over her body until it stops on the wet mess between her muscular legs, and that’s all it takes to convince you to give her what she wants.

“yes, ma’am,” you whisper, and sevika’s grip on your hair loosens just enough for you to move.

with one final glance at her face, you delve your tongue into her cunt, moaning at the taste of her. your nose nudges against her swollen clit, which makes her let out a deep moan. her whole expression falters as you eat her out, curses and noises escaping her mouth like a mantra, a sinful prayer.

“you’re good, cherry,” she praises you breathlessly, fingers combing through your hair. “you sure you – oh, fuck – didn’t choose a wrong profession?”

you don’t give her an answer, your mouth being too busy with her pussy to talk. you eat her like a woman starved, like she is your last meal. you can feel her slick staining your chin, but you can hardly care. you only have one goal in mind, and that’s to take her over the edge.

your own cunt throbs whenever she moans, or accidentally tugs at your hair when your tongue laps at her clit. you’re desperate for release, just as you are desperate for her. your hand slowly slides into your panties, chasing your orgasm as your fingers rub your clit.

sevika can see what you’re doing, but all she can think about is how well your mouth pleases her. she tries to compose herself, to last longer, but the burning sensation in the pit of her stomach is getting unbearable, the coil ready to snap at any moment. all she needs is one final push.

and you give it to her. your lips wrap around her clit, sucking on it, which is what sends sevika over the edge. she throws her head back and moans out loud, not even caring who might hear outside of the salon. she cums into your mouth, her thighs squeezing your head. your own orgasm follows right after, and you whimper into her cunt. your back arches, you can’t pull away nor can you catch a breath, not when her muscular thighs keep you in a lock. your whole lower face is buried in her cunt for a few seconds, and you have to tap on her thigh to let you go, your lungs begging for air.

she looks down at you and realization hits her, her legs spreading apart again to let you move. you both gasp for air when you pull away, pants filling the room. the music stopped playing a while ago, and it dawns on you that your time with her should’ve ended minutes ago. yet you find yourself unable to actually leave the salon, not when you have just silco’s second-in-command cum like that.

sevika, who is not in a better state than you, feels the same. she grins down at you, her hand caressing your hair with gentleness that’s almost uncharacteristic to her.

“you may be a stripper, cherry, but i think you just found yourself a regular.”

[helaintoloki]

The Unbearable Truth

pairing: Five Hargreeves x reader

warnings: angst with no happy ending, spoilers

notes: so i actually hated this storyline in the show but i also recognize angst potential when i see it so here’s this

summary: after getting lost in the subway system, Five comes to a grave realization

Five Hargreeves doesn’t love you anymore, and you’re completely oblivious to the fact.

You’re in the kitchen of Lila’s home baking holiday treats with your niece while awaiting the arrival of the rest of your family to begin the festivities. You smell of cinnamon and pinecones, and for the first time in years you actually feel content and happy with where your life is now. Sure, there’s technically a looming apocalypse hanging over you right now, but it’s nothing you haven’t handled before. You’re actually part of a family now with a man who adores you, and it’s all you’ve ever wanted.

“Alright, Grace, would you like to do the honors of putting the gumdrop buttons on the gingerbread men while I check on the sugar cookies?”

“Yes, aunt y/n!” The girl exclaims cheerfully before immediately diving into the candy bowl. You laugh at her eagerness and turn towards the oven only to be met with the sight of Five in the kitchen doorway. He looks disheveled and unnerved, but you’re too engrossed in your own joy filled bubble to pick up on it right away and instead mistake him for being tired and overwhelmed with the situation surrounding Ben and Jennifer.

“Hey, you made it!” You say with a smile as you press a chaste kiss to his cheek before turning your attention to the sugar cookies. Five can only stand there stiffly as he clings onto the ghost of your lips against his skin. He had hoped that by seeing you again, by being in your presence and showered in your love for him, the feelings he once held for you would return.

But as he stands there in the middle of the kitchen watching you run about, he realizes that he feels absolutely nothing.

Initially, he had wanted nothing more than to return home to you and his siblings. Five had fought tooth and nail trying to figure out a way to get out of that damned subway system so he could have you in his arms again and tell you how much he missed you even if for you he had only been gone a couple hours. But a man could only take eating so many subway rats and being shot at so many times. He had grown tired, weary, and depressed. For a moment it seemed they’d be stuck there forever, and so he decided that maybe it was time to make the most of it.

What he didn’t expect was to fall in love with his brother’s wife.

A woman he had once hated with his entire being now was his sole companion, and whether it was due to some sick twist of fate or a moment of weakness, he had begun to look at her the way he once looked at you. With complete adoration and care as well as a fierce need to protect her and keep her safe. He knew the chances of ever seeing you again were highly unlikely, and the next logical step would be to move on. So he did.

But now here he is, back in his original timeline left to deal with the aftermath of his decisions.

In what was seven years for Five and three hours for you, the boy has fallen out of love with you. Your smile still may be as beautiful as ever and your scent of red berry plum and jasmine may be intoxicating to any other man, but he feels absolutely nothing when he looks at you. The spark is gone, and unbeknownst to you your relationship is about to fall apart.

“Where did you run off to?” You ask him after setting the freshly baked sugar cookies onto the cooling rack nearby.

“I had an… errand to run,” he utters carefully, growing stiff when you wrap your arms around his torso and rest your head upon his shoulder. Calculatingly, Five hesitantly rests a hand on your back while the other comes to comb his fingers through your hair. It’s a familiar motion that he is easily able to replicate in order to portray himself as the same doting partner you know and love. Lila had sworn him to secrecy, but he wasn’t sure just how to break it off with you without telling the truth. So for now he would go through the motions and hope to god you didn’t pick up on the fact that something was completely wrong.

“I’m happy you’re here,” you profess earnestly, peering up at him with fluttering lashes and a devoted smile. “I love you, Five.”

His chest tightens in agony at your words, his hold on you tightening in an attempt to ground himself as he harshly swallows down his discomfort. He meets your adoring gaze and smiles, carefully tilting your chin upwards to meet his lips in a tender kiss. It’s believable enough to keep you feeling secure and oblivious to his detachment, and he hopes that maybe if he keeps this up he can forget all about Lila and go back to normal.

Even if it means he’s just playing a part.

Pulling away, he meets your loving stare and offers you a small smile. Hesitating, as if he has to force the words out of him, Five murmurs out a quiet, “I love you, too.”

And you believe him.

[afterglowsainz]

so it goes… | carlos sainz

summary: carlos has the biggest crush on the famous up and coming actress but she doesn’t know who he is

fc: anya taylor-joy

warnings: this is my first smau so plsss tell me what you think <3 i made it a bit long cause i’m use to write detailed stories but is worth it i swear!! also english is not my first language so there might be mistakes

liked by carlossainz55, bffusername and others

ynusername life lately 🧚🏼‍♀️

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user1 she’s so pretty ughhh

user2 y/n please give me just once chance i’m beggin

user3 simping respectfully

carlossainz55 que linda! (so pretty!)

user4 hello??

user5 ariana what are you doing here 😭

bffusername literally my wife 😮‍💨

ynusername me and you forever 🤭

user6 mother

liked by bffusername, charlesleclerc and others

carlossainz55 great weekend all in all 🏆 podium and good points for the team, ready for the next! 🔜

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user4 let’s gooo smooth operator‼️

user7 forza ferrari 🐎

charlesleclerc great job! double podium next race 👊🏼

user8 brilliant drive carlos!!

user9 VAMOOOOS (let’s go)

user5 okay we see y/n’s best friend in the likes 👀

user10 i think she’s a ferrari fan!

landonorris congrats on the podium or whatever 🙄

likes by carlossainz55, landonorris and others

ynusername emma is now on streaming platforms !!! go watch it 🫶🏽

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user1 and they call her the it girl !!!

user2 favorite movie of the year 💞

user3 y/n y/l/n future oscar winner‼️

bffusername GO WATCH MY WIFE’S MOVIE OR ELSE

ynusername you heard her!

carlossainz55 loved the movie!

user4 okay but are we believing he actually saw a romantic period piece or?? 🤨

user5 idk why i kinda believe it solely on the fact that he’s obsessed with y/n 😭

user6 i don’t see the appeal, she’s not all that :/

user4 now i know you did NOT just said that about THE Y/N Y/L/N

user7 y/n drop another movie i’ve already seen this one a thousand times :( (liked by carlossainz55)

likes by charlesleclerc, carlossainz55 and others

ynusername italian nights 🧿

view all comments

bffusername my girlfriend the prettiest of prettiest 🥰

user1 picture at a church and partying with måneskin? ohhh she’s cool cool

user2 carlos i understand you completely

carlossainz55 beautiful!

ynusername thank you! 💕

user3 omg did she actually??

user4 somebody make sure carlos is still alive and breathing pls

user5 finally! my boy has been in the trenches for monthsss

landonorris 👀

user6 now lando what do you know??

(ynusername has started following carlossainz55)

likes by ynusername, scuderiaferrari and others

carlossainz55 summer break 🏁

view all comments

user1 well hello there

user2 weird way to ask me to marry you but ofc🤭

user3 not carlos immediately posting a thirst trap after yn followed him 😭

user4 thirst trap seems a bit much…

user3 him just casually posting the most earth shattering hottest pictures out of nowhere??

user4 okay you may have a point

user5 post a warning or something next time jesus

user6 I AM ON MY KNEES PLEASE

user7 dinner would be served, house would be cleaned, kids on bed, anything he wants

ynusername 🥰 (liked by carlossainz55)

carlossainz55 🫶🏽

user8 girl me too

liked by carlossainz55, maxverstappen1 and others

yourusername beautiful beautiful madrid 🤍

view all comments

user1 omg you’re in my city!!!

user2 someone send this to carlos quick!

user3 you’re so beautiful 😻

user4 carlossainz55 my guy this is your chance

user5 you’re STUNNING 🤩

carlossainz55 i need to show you all the nice places🫶🏽 (liked by yourusername)

yourusername omg please!! i need a local tour guide

carlossainz55 😊

user6 omg is this the beginning of something???

user7 i’m shipping them already 🤭

user8 someone check on carlos please‼️

[reiderwriter]

Flirting with the FBI

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Word count: 7.1k

Request: Hiiii!! This is my first time requesting anything on this app, but Spencer reid has me in a chokehold. So, I was thinking that the reader is the unsub, and she's like this very good hacker who keeps teasing the fbi cause she's bored or something so she keeps sending hints about who she is or where she is but they keep getting nothing on her. And all of this just keeps getting on Spencer's nerves. And so when Spencer finds her, she keeps teasing him and acting like a brat so he "disciplines" her and takes her roughly and maybe a bit of spanking???

Warnings: a lot tbh - mentions of case details, mentions of domestic violence and police brutality, reader is a possible target of a serial killer, bad tech skills from the writer who really couldn't be bothered to do anymore research than the actual CM writing team, rough Dom Spencer, brat reader, sexual innuendo, semi-public sexual play, spanking, dirty talk (good girl, brat etc.) fingering, raw sex/creampie, aftercare, slight dacryphilia (crying kink) and bimbofication.

A/N: My last fic was a heartwarming family fic, and now I'm back to being depraved. Apologies to anyone here for cute fluff 😭

Masterlist

You always thought hacking the FBI mainframe would be hard, but it's one of the easiest things you've done all week.

If they were going to sit around doing nothing while a serial killer ran around in their own backyard, then obviously, they needed a helping hand. Or a helping poem or two.

Getting into their security camera feed was just an added bonus.

You grabbed your bowl of popcorn and settled into your desk chair, clicking open the window to find which room exactly they would gather in to freak out together.

You made sure to get their attention, blacking out all the computers in the office as they ran to a backroom where a very distraught looking blonde woman was sat. She was evidently the go-to tech support of about six agents who quickly ran to her room to figure out what the issue was. It was show time.

“There once was a serial killer,

Who ate boys and girl both for his dinner,

He cut, diced and slashed,

Left the feds quite abashed,

So I leave this message to be clearer”

The poem scrolled onto their screen on a loop, flashing in and out quickly before you let the computer systems relax again.

You thought they'd panic, scramble for a pen or paper or something, but none of the agents moved until the flashing was over.

You watched curiously as an older man took charge of the scene, likely directing the woman at the desk to figure out who you were, where you lived, and what your social security number was. She got to work quickly, and he moved on to the other agents.

None of them had written the poem down. None had even taken a picture, but one man started talking, and for a while, all eyes and attention in the room were focused solely on him. His hands moved as his mouth did, as if he were casting a spell over the room as he spoke. Even more intriguing was the fact that he rarely seemed to make eye contact with any of them as he spoke. He wasn't conversing or giving directions. He was simply talking.

And you really wanted to listen in.

The younger man began to walk and you watched him quickly pace over to a whiteboard, switching from one feed to another as he made his way there, and pick up a pen before notating the poem perfectly.

Whoever this man was, he was making you feel more and more excited about the game of cat and mouse you had begun with the FBI. You weren't entirely sure if he was to be the cat or the mouse, though.

A few days later, they'd seemingly lost the motivation to work, so you again did their job for them.

With another accompanying limerick to help them along, of course.

“There once was a bullpen full of agents,

Who thought they were very surveillant,

But a simply code crack,

And there system did hack,

A young girl who lived quite adjacent.”

This time, you let the words linger on the screen longer, as you slipped your information into their files, leaving more bread crumbs they could follow to the real villain.

The Agent - Doctor, you had since learned - took up his pen once again and scribbled your first poem next to your most recent.

Doctor Spencer Reid. An IQ of 187, three PhDs and however many Bachelor's Degrees, a member of the Behavioural Analysis Unit, and, as you could somehow tell from the grainy security footage, incredibly attractive man.

He was calm, again talking with his hands as he notated, again drawing the rooms attention like he was the sun and everything needed to orbit him to sustain life. You wondered what it would be like to fluster him.

Typing something out quickly, you broke back into the FBI system. It was risky doing it again so soon again, knowing that their tech analyst was already actively hunting you down, cyber-wise. But you couldn't resist.

“The tall, dark and handsome employee,

How I do wish that he could enjoy me,

I would gladly submit,

we match wit for wit,

But he's trying his best to arrest me.”

The BAU team stood silent on the camera before the two women on the team burst into rambunctious laughter. The camera feed was archaic, black and white, and grainy to boot, but even you couldn't miss the red stain against Doctor Spencer Reid's cheeks. A bonus was the other gentlemen subtly posturing, trying to figure out exactly which of them was “tall, dark, and handsome.”

The payoff for that poem was so great that over the course of the next few days, you kept serenading him with love poems among your quick hints about the actual crime being committed.

You'd first suspected the man of being dangerous when you'd seen the state of his wife. 19 domestic disturbance calls in two months, 0 arrests, and 1 very cushy job as a police detective. You'd done some simple computer programming for your local precinct, inputting data from cases into an algorithm that helped track everything easier, so you'd been intimate with cases that he'd handled.

A pattern had emerged, a series of murders of “undesirables,” people the city didn't care about when alive and certainly didn't have the resources to allocate to after their deaths. Prostitutes, the homeless, and runaway foster kids. All missing or dead, all cases handled by the same officer. The officer that lived next door to you and was one beer away from beating his wife into submission 5 days a week.

After your third 911 call, you'd been notified of your contract termination with the precinct. After the tenth, you noticed parole cars driving by every hour.

By call number 19, you were sure it was a miracle he hadn't tried to have you arrested.

So you turned back to the FBI to see what they could do about a man who treated his wife, and basically everyone else, like scum of the earth.

“Please don't get sidetracked by my hacking,

I'm a good girl, your team I am backing,

the killer, you see,

Is right now hunting me,

You're the ones who can do better tracking.”

You watched the tension snap back into place in the office as, for the first time, Spencer Reid was silent at your message. They all got back to work quickly, going over the files you'd dropped in their servers.

That night, Spencer Reid stayed in the office late, reading through piles and piles of files and looking for the connection he needed. You watched in pity, feeling almost guilty that you'd placed this burden on him instead of just approaching them honestly. But you'd called the police before, and it hadn't worked, so getting attention anyway you could was the only way to go.

You watched for so long that you began noticing his small habits. Each time you sensed frustration, he would run a hand through his hair and tug it slightly. When he found something, he leaned in closer to the page, as if his proximity to the words would make them clearer. Finally, he stood and began clearing his files. But you weren't quite ready to sign off yet, the shouting already beginning in the apartment next to yours, so you quickly typed out the first thing that came to mind to get him to stay.

“There once was a doctor called Reid,

Who I simply and truly just need,

I would lie on my back,

And then let him attack,

Any inch of my body with his seed.”

He fumbled the files in his haste to remove your words from his screen, from every screen now in the building, face awash with embarrassment as he looked around for some sign that no one witnessed your words.

Luck was not to be had as the tech analyst - Penelope Garcia - came shooting out of her office to join him in the near empty bullpen, and the older team leader - Aaron Hotchner - also looked out over the bannister from his office as they bore witness to your seduction.

You were driving Spencer Reid crazy.

He'd spent the last two weeks tracking down a serial killer who may or may not exist based on the word of a set of limericks delivered to the BAU through illegal means that had begun unabashedly flirting with him.

This latest limerick was his last straw.

“The cameras are how I can see you,

I do find myself enjoying the view,

His hair is so fine,

I wish he was mine,

The agent with more PhDs than two.”

“Another score, pretty boy, it was about time someone noticed your good looks instead of your brain for once.” Morgan patted him on the shoulder, barely containing his glee and laughter.

“She's watching us through security feed, and that's all you have to say?” he grumbled, writing out this limerick again, the words to the others burned into his brain. “She's playing with me.”

“It sure sounds like she'd enjoy doing just that,” Emily laughed from her desk, “but I think she might be right, Spencer. Every case file she's given us has suspicious activity on it. They're all unsolved, but the victims aren't linked.”

“He's crossing race and gender boundaries, but he's hitting undesirables.”

They had a case because of you. It didn't mean he wouldn't enjoy handcuffing you and putting you in a cell once this was all finished.

“WE'VE GOT ANOTHER ONE,” Penelope shouted from her office, to no avail. If it was at one computer, it was on all of them.

“The agents grew closer by day,

As the killer wanted to escape,

He paced across the floor,

As I watched by his door,

Getting closer than the agents could say.”

He paused then for a second, thinking through each of the limericks in turn and the panic began.

“Closer than… Emily, the officer that took in all of the cases, what was his name?”

“Officer Falstaff, why?”

“I think he might be our killer. And I think he knows she's on to him, or if he doesn't, he will soon.” He stood suddenly, grabbing a file and sprinting to Penelope’s office, Emily and Morgan trailing close behind.

“Spencer, wait-”

“No time. If we want them both alive, we have to move now.”

Throwing the door to Penelope’s room open, he didn't even bother with niceties.

“Can you get her a message?” He demanded, panting from the short run.

“A wha-? Spencer, what are you talking about?”

“Can you send the hacker a message? Or leave her one so she can find it when she comes?”

Penelope swivelled around in her chair once again, doing who-knows-what to answer his question.

“There's no telling what she actually sees in our servers, Spencer, we didn't see any breach in classified files, the only thing she's done is read your personal file and drop us hints.”

His hands closed into fists as he nodded along. “So no?”

“No, Spencer, I'm sorry. Why? Are you starting to grow fond of our little helper.”

“She's not our little helper. She's a criminal. And she'll be dead soon if I don't confirm with her that we have the right guy - excuse me.”

The anger was washing over him now, as he left the room to get some air, getting only as far as the corridor before slamming an open palm into the wall and resting his forehead against it for a moment, just thinking.

The stress of the case was almost too much for him as he turned around and rested his back against the wall, sliding down it until he was sat on the floor. He may have despised you at that moment, but he didn't want you to get yourself killed.

Something nagged him, still, some stress or anger that hadn't yet surfaced, or some case fact he was missing. A glint at the corner of his eye had him looking up to the camera currently trained directly on him.

Computers are useless, he thought to himself, when you can send a letter.

The next time you sat down at your desk, you weren't exactly shocked to see an up close and personal shot of Aaron Hotchner - they'd turned your security stream into a one way facetime and you were sat directly opposite the big boss himself in an interrogation room.

“Checkmate, I guess,” you said, waiting for the man to move.

A signal from behind the camera let him know you were online and watching. He picked up a pen and paper and scribbled down something before holding the note out to you once more.

The name and location of the bastard next door. They'd done it, and now you simply had to drop your evidence, shut down your computer, and wait for the sirens to sound.

You felt slightly sad typing out your last message, knowing that you had no more reason to stay in touch with the team now. Still, you were only human and couldn't resist the chance to say something more.

“Aaron Hotchner and his clever team,

Working with you has been like a dream,

When Reid comes it is wet,

And my mind is all set,

Oh, I do wish that he'd make me cream.”

The camera turned seconds after your message was sent, and there he was, reading intently, frow creased in annoyance as he tried to remain calm. He, too, picked up a pen and paper.

“I have questions,” the paper said when he turned it around. Holding it up for a few seconds before returning his pen to paper. You typed out a message before he could finish dictating his, though.

“When you find me there's lots for me to say,

I can't help simply feeling this way,

Your profile I read,

Can't believe you're a Fed,

I yearn for you all night and day.”

Somehow, the lines between his brow deepened as he quickly scribbled out another message. This one wasn't a question, though. It was simply two words.

He'd written your name on that paper. He'd found you.

You weren't sure if the tingle that ran up your spine was fear or anticipation. One one hand, you'd likely committed multiple felonies in the pursuit of justice, and the SWAT team about to pick up the killer was going to knock for you, too. On the other hand, it was pretty much a given that you would be seeing Spencer Reid in person in the next few hours.

“The Doctor had finally cracked it,

The only identity that could fit,

The pretty young thing,

Who'd been flirting with him,

And was thinking of sitting on his…”

You sent a second message along with the first.

“I couldn't make this one rhyme, Doc. Come and get me.”

The sound of the FBI outside your neighbour's door had you stepping away from the computer finally. It was time to get ready to see him. You stepped out of your robe and into the shower as you waited to be collected and hauled into a police vehicle.

xxx

So far, you were a bit disappointed by the look of the BAU offices. It was smaller than it appeared on the CCTV, and you hadn't exactly given the tour. Unless the whole tour was the wall from the elevators, through the bullpen and straight to interrogation room one. You were also slightly embarrassed that you had yet to be greeted by any of your favourite characters yet. The lead swat officer had led you in some desk agents dropping by to have you fill out some simple documents - waiving your rights and all that. You'd seen not even a single member of the BAU since dropping in two hours ago, but you felt his eyes on you.

You faced the mirror, trying your best to stare straight through it and into the man beyond.

Spencer Reid was there. He had to be. He was too curious to be anywhere else. You smiled at him through the mirror and waited.

You were right, of course. Spencer stood on the opposite side of the one-way window and watched you look for him in every inch of the glass. He watched you squirm when you couldn't find anything, watched you pick at your nails as he made you wait.

He watched you cross and uncross your legs, the short skirt you'd slipped into just before you left providing just enough mystery to catch his eye and his breath.

He was annoyed, frustrated, a little bit impressed, anxious, and - to his peril - turned on.

“Spencer,” Hotch said, breaking the man's concentration. “We can't keep her that much longer. Go in and say something, or I'll cut her loose.”

Reluctantly, he pulled his eyes away and stepped out of the waiting room before letting himself into yours.

“Miss Y/N, my name is Doctor Spencer Reid, I'm a profiler working with the Behavioural An-”

“You're joking, right?” You asked, eyes lighting up, spine straightening as you looked up at the man. “I know who you are, Doc.”

“Please call me Doctor Reid,” he asked, setting down a file on the table and looking over the desk at you.

“Oh, I don't even get your first name.” You lifted your leg and ran it along the side of his until he moved his chair back, just out of reach. You pouted as he began reading through documents, asking you to confirm exactly which technical breaches you were responsible for.

“And the breach at 1:27pm on Thursday 5th-”

“Yes, that was me, too. They were all me, Doc, is that all? Are we finished now?”

“I don't know, are we finished? Can I leave?”

“No,” you shouted, just as he stood up to gather his things. “No, don't go. I want to talk to you.”

He sat back down, finally looking at you instead of words on a page.

“Do you enjoy attention, Miss Y/N?” He asked, voice cold but gaze burning like fire into your skin.

“As much as anyone does.”

“Do you enjoy my attention?” The words hung between you for a few minutes as you watched him carefully, searching for the right answer.

“What do you think, Doc?”

“Doctor Spencer Reid,” he repeated reflexively.

“I know your name,” you smiled, and he finally looked away, breaking contact to regroup for a second.

“We have reason to believe you used your backdoor into our system to access my personal file, is that correct?” It may have been asked as a question, but Spencer Reid already knew the answer.

“Yes, I did.”

“Why?”

You laughed at the simple question, sure that your behaviour until this point was evidence enough to answer it.

“Why? Because you're attractive and your smart and-”

“Why haven't you used the content of the files as leverage? I've been digging at you for the last half hour, and you have plenty of ammunition to throw back at me, yet you haven't. Why?”

For the first time in a while, you were speechless.

“Oh. Wow. Should I have said something? Would you have felt more comfortable if I were a horrible person using your background to make you feel vulnerable?”

“Why, Y/N?”

You sighed and looked back up at him.

“I'm interested in you. That's it. Honestly, there is nothing in your file more interesting than how you look running your hands through your hair.”

His jaw clenched and unclenched before he let out a sigh.

“So you're a compulsive liar.” He said it so finitely it was like a kick in the teeth.

“Or maybe you're just insecure. I can help with that.”

He shot you another warning look as a grin spread over your lips. Yes, it was very fun to mess with Spencer Reid.

“FBI Agents aren't allowed to sleep with suspects.”

“You want to sleep with me?”

His eyes went wide as he realized his mistake, mouth opening and closing as he tossed another annoyed look in your direction.

The door to the interrogation room opened, and Reid quickly bolted out of his seat as Aaron Hotchner entered. The two men shared a nod before the younger man left the room entirely.

“Such a shame, I thought we were really getting somewhere.”

To your surprise, Hotchner’s lips curled up in a laugh as he sat down, straightening his suit.

“Miss Y/N, we've reviewed the information you've given us and taken into account your motives, and the FBI has decided not to prosecute you for your actions.”

You sat for a minute, Hotch doing the same, the both of you caught waiting for each other to say something or continue.

“But?” You prodded, knowing there was more left to say.

“But, we'd ask for your cooperation on cases in the future that require technological man-power. In a consultancy role, of course. You wouldn't be given a badge or a gun or any clearance, and you'd need to be with an agent at all times.”

You tapped your fingers against the desk, trying to figure out if this deal was beneficial or not.

“I'll do it if I can pick the Agent.”

Now, the man was fully smiling at you or giving you what you assumed passed for a smile in his books.

“We had recommended Doctor Reid for the role. Of course, if you're more comfortable with another agent, you can-”

“Doctor Reid is perfect, thank you.”

The man nodded and stood, and you stood with him as he led you quietly out of the room.

A flustered Spencer Reid exited the adjoining room, hurrying to catch Hotch before he really signed his life away to you.

“Hotch, what is this?” He demanded, stopping the man in his tracks. They both paused, turning around and moved a few feet awaywfrom.you whispering out their argument.

You couldn't catch most of it, but you did happen to catch the phrases “man-eater,” “I'm not good with people,” and “Spencer, this will be good for you.” Victory in the end went to Hotch, who promptly turned on his heel and kept walking down the hall.

“I work here now,” you said, grinning up at Spencer.

“No, you don't.”

“According to your boss, I do. And you're my babysitter.”

“You're a criminal. You hacked into the FBI database to leave ominous clues to multiple murders.”

“If you call those ominous clues, I'm curious how people usually flirt with you.”

“They don't. Why…why are we having this conversation?”

He stormed off ahead of you, and you quickened your pace to catch up to him, following him down a familiar hallway to what was obviously tech central at the BAU.

“Spencer, seriously? You're walking around looking like that, and no one hits on you?”

He stopped abruptly, and you ran into his back before he turned around to scowl at you again.

“Can we keep this serious, please?”

“I'm very serious about flirting with you, and I'm stumped why more people aren't.”

“Okay, let's go somewhere and talk,” his hand landed on your waist, readying his grip to forcibly move you if need be.

“I thought that's what we were doing.” Instead of allowing him to move you, you leaned into his touch, stepping closer and raising a hand to his chest, as his head dipped to maintain eye contact.

“No, this isn't talking, this is some weird foreplay I've never heard of, and I'd like you to leave my office if you're going to continue,” the woman sat at the desk exclaimed, horror and amusement fighting a battle for her facial expressions. “I like to keep my office a no trauma zone, so please take a walk to the nearest bed or storage closet or car and you can shove your tongues down each other's throats in peace and out of my sight, please and thank you.”

Spencer tried to step away, but a hand on his tie kept him close and kept his eyes on you. You poked your head out around him and smiled at the other woman.

“Sorry to disturb you. I'm Y/N. Based on the tech, I assume we will be working with each other soon.”

“Oh my gosh, you were, like, my number one most hated person last week. Penelope Garcia, tech analyst.”

“I'm sorry about that. If it makes it any better, it was really hard to get past some of your firewalls. And I couldn't even touch the classified files.”

“Apology accepted, on the condition that you lead young Reid out of my office right now before he explodes.”

You grinned and grabbed the man's hand, sending Penelope a quick goodbye as you pulled him out of the room.

He stumbled behind you for a few moments before catching up and pulling you in a different direction, keeping your hands intertwined as he bee-lined for the elevators and pushed the button to go down.

It arrived, and he pulled you in, not releasing your grip until the doors were fully closed and you were alone.

“Getting me all alone, Doc? What do you have in mind?”

“I'm driving you home.”

“My apartment is a crime scene, and I have no family in the city.”

“What about friends?”

“I've been stalked by a homicidal police officer for the last month and barricaded myself into an apartment. Do you think I have friends?”

His gaze was somewhat softer as he looked at you again. You saw the math happening in his head as he tried to figure out what to do with you. You also saw his brain short circuiting when you wrapped yourself around his arm.

“We're friends now, Doc. Isn't that right?”

“What?”

“We're friends,” you repeated again, tone becoming a little defensive in a pout.

“We are not friends, Y/N. We've known each other for less than 6 hours, and we haven't engaged in any friendly conversation.”

“We've known each other for two weeks, and I've been more than friendly enough for the both of us.”

The elevator stopped, and the doors opened. Gesturing for you to go first, Spencer hurried you out of the elevator and into the parking garage.

“Trust me, Spencer, deep down, part of you really wants to be friends with me,” you said poking his chest with a finger. You couldn't resist flattening your hand against his surprisingly hard chest and letting the hand drop slightly.

“And an ever deeper down part of you doesn't want to be friends at all,” you smiled at him.

He caught your wrist before it could reach his belt buckle, your unconscious finish line, spinning you around and dragging you to his car.

The biting cold of metal cutting into your wrists was the first indication that maybe Spencer Reid wasn't as easy to mess with as you'd hoped. He closed the handcuffs around your wrists and handed you into the car as you gaped at him.

“Spencer!”

“Doctor Spencer Reid.”

“I’m not a criminal, Spencer, let me go.”

“I'll let you go when you prove to me you can behave.”

You pouted as he strapped you into the car and closed the door, walking around to the passenger side before letting himself in.

“What's next? Are you going to gag me?” You scoffed as he turned over the engine and began backing out of the parking lot.

“No. I think you'd enjoy that too much.”

The drive to Spencer's apartment was long and quiet as you sat pouting in the passenger seat. Every few seconds, you twisted and moved your arms, fidgeting left and right so he could see how much the restraints bothered you. Luckily, he'd handcuffed your hands in front of your body, so you still sat somewhat comfortably, but you didn't want him to know that.

He pulled up to the building and turned off the engine, pulling out his keys.

“Let's go,” he said, not even sparing you a look as he climbed out.

“Spencer, I'm handcuffed. How do I even get out?”

“You'll figure it out. You're a smart girl, right?”

He closed his door and began walking, and you quickly fumbled your way out.

“Spencer… Spencer, your neighbours are going to ask questions about you bringing a handcuffed girl into your apartment!” You whispered at him as you paced behind him, somehow running to catch up with his mere walk.

“I don't have neighbours like you, Y/N. They won't notice a thing.”

“Right, okay. And when you murder a dozen people over a six month period, they won't hack the federal government.” You rolled your eyes as he unlocked the door, taking your arm and finally handing you into the apartment.

It was dark and cold, and you shivered, feeling his body pushed in right behind yours, closing the door before he felt around for the light switch.

When the lights turned on, you blinked, adjusting to the light again as he walked you further into the apartment, hands on your hips as you slowly stumbled forward.

“Can you take the handcuffs off now?” You asked, looking over your shoulder at him.

“And let you touch my things? No.”

You shook off his hands and walked further into the room.

“You know I can still mess with your stuff with my hands tied up like this,” you said, walking to the nearest bookshelf.

“Whoops, look at that,” you said, pulling a book off the shelf and letting it fall to the floor between you with a thud.

“Y/N!” He exclaimed, voice pitched up in exasperation.

“Oh, this stack of books on the ground looks well organized. Oopsie!” You acted out tripping over the books, sending them flying in different directions.

“One more time, Y/N, mess with my stuff one more time-”

You didn't hear the words as you pulled yet another book off his shelf and let it tumble to the ground.

He was on you in seconds, lifting your wrists and pinning them to the top shelf, pressing his body against yours as he stretched you out.

You gasped at both the sudden contact and the tight grip he now had on your hands.

“Tell me, do you actually want to be in control, or do you just think you should want to be in control?”

“What's the difference?”

“The difference is how much you enjoy it. I think you're only being a brat to get a rise out of me. You're doing this because there's no one else in your life that will give you exactly what you crave."

"And what would that be?"

"Attention," he whispered into your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Great, thanks for the therapy. Are you going to show me how much I can enjoy relinquishing control now?”

“Brat,” he spat at you.

“Fed,” you spat back.

“You have a problem with law enforcement?” He asked, his breath hitting your ear as you tried not to shiver again at his touch.

“My neighbour was a serial killer whose day job was police brutality," you said, as if the answer was obvious, but Spencer still stared, waiting for true confirmation.

“Yes I have a problem with law enforcement. What, are you going to spank me?”

His eyes lit up, and you suddenly wondered if you'd made a mistake.

“You'd like that, wouldn't you?”

“N-No.” You stuttered, but he'd already begun moving you over to his couch.

“It was a joke. Spencer, it was a joke, don't-”

You underestimated his strength as he flipped you around and guided you down over his lap. Keeping your hips raised, he used one hand to hold you down while the other pushed up your tight skirt.

“S-Spencer, I really don't think-”

“Then don't think,” he said, bringing his hand down hard on your ass as you cried out in shock and pain.

“Stop thinking. You think too much, let me do it for you.”

With each hit, your shock grew fuzzy, melting into pleasure as you felt wetness pooling between your thighs.

The doctor you thought would be an easy target was not sadistically returning every teasing word back to you with his hands, letting bruises blossom all over your ass as he delivered painfully arousing strikes.

His hand stopped and he rubbed your ass as you twitched at the gentleness, panties sticking to the folds of your cunt as you absent mindedly pushed up into his touch.

“See, now you're listening,” he said, fingers trailing down to touch you over the sopping undergarments.

With two quick fingers, the crotch of your panties peeled away from your skin and he was plunged deep inside you, fingers pressing in as his thumb found its way to your clit.

“Fuck, Spencer-”

“Doctor Reid. You can use my full title now or you don't get to cum.”

“D-Doctor Reid, please!” His thumb rubbed slowly over your clit bit his fingers didn't move as you shuddered and contracted around them.

“Please what?” He asked, voice light as if he wasn't two knuckles deep in you already.

“Please make me cum, Doctor Reid!”

“Good manners,” he said as he finally began pumping his digits in and out of you, spreading your legs wider as you clawed your hands into his couch cushions to ground yourself in the moment. His spare hands left your wrists, and you felt them again, delivering small, almost cute hits to your ass as you twitched around his fingers, shying away from the painful contact.

“That's it, Y/N, let yourself relax,” he whispered, shifting his weight underneath you as you became aware of the tent in his pants.

Your brain was jello as you tried to bounce back on his fingers, chasing your oncoming orgasm.

“Look at you, trying to cum on my hands. You're just an attention-seeking slut, right?”

His fingers continued ppimg as your tongue hung loosely in your mouth.

“Answer me, or I'll leave you here high and dry, Y/N. Tell me you're an attention seeking slut that's been fingering yourself to the thought of this for weeks.”

“I-I'm an a-atten…tion seeking s-slut,” you stifled a moan and bit back tears as he pressed another finger inside of you. “Spencer I can't I need to cum,” you cried, tears spilling down your cheeks pathetically.

“Say it.”

“I'm an attention seeking s-slut that's been th-thinking about this-”

“Fingering yourself,” he corrected.

“Fingering myself to the thought of this for w-weeks,” you cried, sniffing now as your thighs shook in anticipation.

“What a nasty little slut,” he said as you finally came, your cum running down his fingers as he kept his hands moving.

Your tears were falling freely now as you bit back little sobs and chokes of emotions, the pleasure from the orgasm almost too much to handle.

Underneath you, Spencer shifted, freeing himself from his position and laying you fully down on the sofa as your legs still shook.

“There once was a doctor called Reid,” he said, unzipping his pants as he took up his place behind you.

They were your words, and your body signalled warnings everywhere as his hands pulled your hips up once more, pulling your knees up too to bend under you, laying you face down ass up.

“Who I simply and truly just need.”

He pulled the panties down to the crook of your knees before leaning down over you so he could deliver the next few lines as whispers into your ear.

“I would lie on my back, And then let him attack, Any inch of my body with his seed.”

A weak moan escaped your lips as he sank his cock inside of you, lips still pressed against your ears.

“I don't want you on your back, though. I much prefer you like this.”

His cock slid out of you and returned with a speed and strength that had your eyes rolling back in your head.

He was thick, maybe a little longer than average, and he filled you perfectly using your cum as lubricant.

“Such a good listener, now, Y/N. I like you like this,” he said with a moan, thrusting hard and deep inside of you.

You didn't talk. You could only drool and moan into his couch as he emptied your brain one thrust at a time.

You didn't think about how he wasn't wearing a condom. You didn't think about how he'd spat your words back at you, ready to fill you with his seed. You just sat in a pool of your own pleasure and let Spencer Reid use your body as you'd been begging him to for weeks.

He raised your hips and gave one last thrust, stilling there for a second as he filled your empty body and mind with his cum and his entire being.

If you weren't obsessed with Doctor Spencer Reid before this, you certainly were now.

He pulled out of you quickly, wiping his cock on your skirt before hurrying off to the bathroom to clean up.

Your brain was still absent when he returned, cleaning you off and finally removing the handcuffs. He removed your clothes, replacing them with his spares as he threw the soiled ones into the wash.

When you regained your wits or what was left of them, you were laid out in his bed, wrapped in a blanket and stuffed into a sweater and sweats, fully covered from head to toe. Spencer was picking up his keys and trying his shoelaces.

“Where are you going?’ You asked sleepily, stumbling to the doorway. Your legs were still shaky, and your movement was already limited. You knew that tomorrow, the use of your limbs would be nonexistent.

“Back to the office. Now that you're not around, maybe I'll be able to get some actual work done.”

“Spencer,” you said, forcing him to turn around to look back at you.

Before he could say anything else, you pressed your lips to his, hot and needy, wrapping your arms around his neck as he kissed back, slipping his tongue into your mouth and pressed you into the wall next to the door.

When you both pulled away for breath, you detangled your limbs, smoothing out his shirt and readjusting his tie.

He looked down at you, waiting for you to say something else as you met his gaze, grinning at him.

“I look forward to working with you, Doctor Reid.”

[spidermanifested]

heres MY rambly black sails analysis for the day, after watching the show twice in as many months i wholeheartedly believe in the "long john silvers quote unquote missus in treasure island is max, not madi" theory

the most obvious thing, as others have pointed out, is that in treasure island long john silver runs an inn with his wife, a black woman, in bristol, which is absolutely not madi behavior-- i cannot imagine madi would take him back in the first place much less move with him TO ENGLAND-- but IS maxs exact area of expertise. but theres so many other things that cement it for me

as early as episode 2, max tries to convince eleanor to buy out the inn and run it together with her when england takes nassau back. this is her dream-- to share power over her life with a woman she loves, free of the pressures of the outside world. (youll note this also happens to be silvers dream for himself and madi. the parallels)

in season 4 shes faced with the suspiciously similar option to take a husband to be the face of her business, completely on paper, for the sake of the public eye. and she refuses! she doesnt want to give a man that kind of power over her. not only that but she desperately wants to retain some kind of truth in her identity-- she admires anne for her honesty, her courage. these are things she can rarely afford to express. in refusing a marriage of convenience, she asserts her autonomy.

But. black sails tells us over and over again that an oppressive society will always find ways to batter down these private boundaries. there is no island safe from colonial rule. mirandas peaceful house in the interior is burnt to the ground. the maroons are forced to accept a freedom that comes at the price of abandoning those still enslaved and taking part in their continued subjugation. the things it takes to make these spaces are terrible, and unsustainable, and when it comes to being gay in the 1700s there is a tightrope to walk between privilege and privacy, one that destroyed flint and the hamiltons, thats even narrower to max as a self-made woman of color.

given all that, i do not believe she can girlboss her way out of her circumstances no matter how many lessons she took from what happened to eleanor. nor do i think the show believes it. i think the political-marriage-offer plot point is another illustration of that theme-- maxs desire, and silvers desire, to build a warm, happy room in the middle of the imperial machine, without meaningfully striking out against the machine itself, is destined to be futile no matter how strong they are as individuals.

max and silver are mirror images of one another. each of them is essentially the narrator of one half of the story. it is absolutely agonizing how BOTH of them tried to convince their lovers to abandon their ambitions, to settle for a quiet life with them, and in doing so saw that relationship destroyed by their own fear of an uncertain future....

....And its even MORE agonizing to imagine them finally securing the trappings of a domestic life... but without the love. and they know the love was what mattered! theyre always going to know!!!

it bookends PERFECTLY with their alliance at the start of the series. theyre right where they started, trusting no one, pretending to be humble and harmless, planning to steal the EXACT SAME TREASURE, except now theyre 50 years old and jaded and bitter and both pining after their lost loves. silver probably pictures madi whenever he tells people about his wife. when he and max have time to themselves they talk solely about finances and nothing else. its honestly impressive how miserable this is for every single person involved. im losing my mind

[suksatoru]

002. CARNATIONS

Touya wasn't fitting in very well.

There were a lot of things you noticed about him during his first week. He didn't talk much - he'd sit in silence a lot more than he should. It was bad. He was spending too much time with his own thoughts - and you were becoming afraid that he would end up swimming too far into his own mind where drowning would only be inevitable.

He didn't eat much either. Only when he absolutely needed to - and he'd take a few bites before stubbornly pushing his plate away. It was hard trying to get him to talk to you too, because he simply refused to cooperate.

There was this faraway look in his eyes. Like he couldn't believe what his life had come to. He had so many plans - so many things to do. They were all hopeless now. He had an entirely new checklist- and he couldn't even be bothered to pick it up. Was it bad that he had no will to live?

Touya didn't understand why his father wanted him alive. He hadn't seen him since the war, only hearing his name whispered amongst the doctors when they thought he was asleep. Touya truly didn't see the purpose of his family fighting so much for him - he was falling apart. Both mentally and physically, straining the doctors for no reason when he should just die. He'd done terrible things, and in his mind, he deserved death.

"He won't listen to anyone besides you."

You blow out a breath of air with a nervous chuckle, shifting your weight from one foot to the other as you look up at your supervisor. She looked mad. Her brow was ticked upwards, a wrinkly finger holding up a sheet of paper that had 'Todoroki' scribbled at the top. His latest speech evaluation report.

"He can talk just fine with the insults he was spitting at the other doctors. That man has a foul mouth, and an even fouler mood. No doctor that comes even within five feet of him is spared his horrible remarks and glares. But in all of your reports, you never once mentioned him saying anything exceptionally rude. He's... quiet around you."

Your brows pinch together as your gaze stays on the report in your hands

Touya was confusing you.

"And I understand you have other patients, but they've all progressed nicely with their treatments. Todoroki - well, he is a special case."

You were being asked to accept the job of having Touya as your sole patient. You knew his condition was bad - but you didn't think it was this bad. The other doctors had all come to the same conclusion, that he was in desperate need of a single support system. Someone who could help him every step of the way - and they had made a unanimous vote for you to be that person.

You accepted. You thought you'd have to think more about the proposal, but...

"Touya, do you like board games?"

For the first time this entire evening, his eyes lift from the tiled floor he'd been glaring at as he turns to you with a look of disinterest. You try not to let him see the way you're fighting back a smile when he finally speaks for the first time this afternoon

"I haven't played one since I was a kid. I don't even remember how they work."

"That's ok - I can teach you!"

He looks out the window, gently rolling his shoulders as the muscles under his hospital gown shift from the movement

"Why? Just sounds like a waste of time to me." He says, his voice gruff as you gently drag your chair closer to his bed

"Well, some of these games involve some brain work. Don't you think it'd be a nice challenge to try and work them out? We can even-"

"No."

You pause when he interrupts you, folding your hands in your lap as you patiently wait for him to continue. Your smile falters when he starts staring again, his eyes opening a little more to watch you as he remains silent and still - not elaborating any further.

"Ok-"

"Call Endeavor."

You pause, trying not to show your surprise as you quickly close your parted lips when you meet his gaze.

Nothing. His eyes were devoid of even a speck of emotion as he stared at you. If it hadn't been for him moving to run a tired hand through his white locks, you would've thought he was dead. That is just how dull his eyes looked.

"Well... let's talk about this first, okay? Why would you like to call him, Touya?" You ask softly, moving to grab his hand like you'd do to comfort any other patient before your fingers awkwardly hover over his hand

Touya did not like to be touched.

He narrows his eyes at you with an annoyed sigh before he looks away again, clearing his throat before speaking

"I need to do something."

You frown, taking a quick glance at the emergency phone across the room. There were a few contacts Touya would be allowed to call - one of them was, unfortunately, Endeavor's.

"Are you sure you'd like to call your father-"

"Don't fucking call him that."

You freeze, a chill running down your spine that feels like being dowsed in ice water when he snaps at you. His eyes burn to life, the hatred in them so strong that you can't even bring yourself to look at him as you realize you'd crossed some sort of an invisible line.

"I- okay, I'm sorry. Do you not like it when I address him as that?"

His silence was all the answer you needed.

Maybe it was your guilt that had you hesitantly reaching for the phone. You power it on - and you can see the poorly hidden surprise on his face when he quirks an eyebrow, surprised you were fulfilling his request.

He almost feels bad for what he's about to do. Almost.

"I'll hold the phone up to your ear, Touya. Let me know if I'm too close, ok?" You ask gently, and he nods his head with a grunt. He's not staring anymore - he's actually avoiding your eyes. Maybe you should've taken that as a sign that something was wrong, but you were too busy trying to understand what was going through his mind that made him want to call his father so out of the blue.

You pray silently that Endeavor won't answer - but the phone is barely on the third ring before it cackles to life

"Touya? Touya this is your number calling me - Touya are you there?"

The air is tense with your anticipation - could this mean progress? Barely two weeks in seemed a little early, but you sent Touya an encouraging smile anyways.

That was the last thing he needed to give him the courage to open his mouth

"Fuck you Endeavor! Burn in hell you flaming piece of shit!"

Your yelp doesn't surprise Touya at all as you hastily end the call, fumbling with the phone as he kneels over and grasps the railings of his bed - before he laughs.

It hurts so much to smile, but he does it anyway - his laughter is a hoarse wheeze as his chest shakes. You power the phone off with trembling hands before whipping towards him

"Touya- y-you tricked me!" You sputter, clutching the phone to your chest as he struggles to breathe. He whacks his chest, as if he's trying help the oxygen reach his lungs - and your eyes widen in panic

He lets out a deep exhale, turning to you with a barely noticeable smirk when he sees the dread in your eyes

"That was too easy. You shouldn't be so nice to me, Doc."

"Well... this could be considered progress, sir! He's, uhm - open to communication?"

Endeavor is not amused. He drills you for another fifteen minutes - demanding to know every little thing about Touya's recovery process, and each minute you shrink further and further into your seat.

Who knew Touya would be the one to come to your rescue?

The undeniable beep that comes from your pocket immediately rips away your attention from Endeavor

Beep beep beep beep-

"What is that?" He nearly growls as you fumble with the small device in your hands, desperatly trying to turn it off as your feet move towards the double-doors quickly

"Touya's emergency button, he's calling me - I'm so sorry but we need to continue this conversation another time! " You yell over your shoulder before he can even get another word out, racing to the elevators as you come to a stumbling stop in front of them - you press the third floor button four times before the beeping starts up again.

Your mind immediately thinks the worst, and you're practically flying to the stairs as you run by two families and nearly knock a fellow doctor off his feet in your race towards Touya's room

Touya jumps when his room door slams open, his brows furrowing as he discreetly tries to see what made you run into his room in such a haste.

There were a few strands of hair that had fallen from your updo - you're panting as you take in Touya - sitting just fine on his bed as he stares at you. There's a hint of amusement in his eyes when he sees you before he slowly turns away.

He peers down to the device in his hands as he points it at the TV - clicking the small red button on it over and over again.

"A-Are you-"

"It won't turn off."

He waves the remote at the TV again, grumbling all sorts of profanities under his breath as he stubbornly tries to will the screen to shut off - the news played softly through the speakers as you slowly nod your head

"We use this remote for that."

He eyes the device in your hands before holding up the one in his hand

"Then what the hell is this for?"

"Emergencies. You press it when you need me and it is urgent - I check in periodically anyways, so you only use this remote when you really need me to come right away. You pressed it a lot of times before, so I had to run here. I thought something was wrong." You sigh, rubbing your temple as he turns over the device in his hand with a thoughtful hum. You gather the fallen strands in your palm and work on quietly fixing your hair.

"Why are you so nice to me?"

You pause from where you were tying your hair - lowering your hands into your lap as you tilt your head at him in confusion. Touya's glad he interrupted you while you were tying your hair - because now it falls over your shoulders in soft waves. He thinks you look... nice like this. He wonders if this will be the only time you'll let your hair flow freely in front of him.

The bluntess of his question was what made your hands drop. His words hang in the air as you try to formulate a response, but he cuts you off before you can get a word out.

"The other bastards treat me the way I deserve to be treated. How come you're actually trying? What's in it for you?"

He seems annoyed. But then you see the sincerity in his eyes - and you realize he genuinely didn't think he deserved any form of kindness. You want to hug him - but you also would like your limbs to stay in tact, so instead - you lean forward with a soft smile.

"You see, I like to think of people as flowers."

He stays silent, waiting for you to continue.

"Some grow in open fields with the sun shining over them all the time. Some grow through the cracks in concrete - and some die from drowning in too much rain or being dried out from the heat."

Something in his eyes softens at your words

"All flowers are beautiful you know - the ones people say are too far gone can still be preserved. I really like pressing flowers, you know, in glass. It reminds me that their beauty is an everlasting type of thing."

You pretend not to notice the sheen in his eyes when he stares at you. It's quiet. The curtains move from the gentle breeze that enters through the open window, and it catches wisps of your open hair in it as you smile.

Touya had thought he'd seen it all. The ugliness of the world, the terrible parts no one should venture into. How many times had he lied when he'd say "I've seen it all." ?

He realizes how wrong he was when he understands he forgot to look through the cracks in the dark walls he'd been surrounded by for so long - the splits and breaks in the surface where hope seeped through. There was still so much he wanted to see.

Flowers. Who knew something so little could mean so much?

CARNATIONS MASTERLIST.

@dabislittlemouse @rueclfer @kawaiidemoneart @porusuniverse

@starrmage @lilbeatlebear @bokukenmakuroo @bbluefllame

⬆️ i love u all for the support 🥺🩷 thank you. i am seriously so greatful :(

please let me know if you would like your username to be removed or added!! i got a little excited with the taglist sowwy 😖

[coldfanbou]

TM IS Side Story: New Toy

Little side story for you all, @twice-inamillion looks like Somi is getting some training.

Some weeks before your birthday, Jihyo had gone out to meet with someone. In the middle of the conversation, she brought up the real reason she wanted to meet Somi and mentioned her family. “I need you to understand that it’s dangerous for you to know,” Jihyo said, leaning back against her chair. “So I want you to sleep with him. Chaeyoung mentioned that you wanted to get your cherry popped by him. I know that you can Chaeyoung mess around with each other, so letting him fuck you should be fine, right?” Jihyo leans forward onto the table, giving Somi a smirk and showing her command over the situation. Somi looked around nervously; it was true since that day with Chaeyoung, she had thought about you a lot, masturbating to thoughts of you taking her more than once. “I need to protect my family, so I need some dirt on you, and this is just the way to do it.” She said in a stern voice.

“I understand, but-”

“I’ll get you ready for him; you’re going to be a birthday surprise.” Jihyo interrupts, handing her a slip of paper telling Somi where to meet her. Somi nods along, some of her worries disappearing because of Jihyo’s comforting words. Still, Somi knew this was to protect everyone’s careers with a type of mutually assured destruction in case something went wrong.

A week went by and Somi met Jihyo at the place she had written on the slip of paper, walking inside with the older woman as they got themselves a room in a hotel. Once inside Jihyo put down the briefcase she had bought and told Somi to strip and lay down on the bed. “Take this too; it’ll get you in the mood.” Deciding not to question it, Somi took the pills offered to her and stripped down, standing naked in front of Jihyo as the older woman got out of her clothes, too. Somi crawled onto the bed, lying down as Jihyo looked through her briefcase and laid out toys. Somi felt her body grow hotter as she watched the older woman check through the toys. 

Somi pursed her lips as the older woman set out many toys, looking at them individually before turning to her. Jihyo crawled over the younger woman, “This is how it’s going to go, Somi. I’m going to make sure your body is ready for him.” Jihyo lays herself on top of Somi, reaching down and groping her ass. “This is going to be the first place we train.” 

Somi shut her eyes, moaning as she felt Jihyo kiss her neck, “It’s going to take a while to get you ready,” Jihyo left a trail of kisses down, stopping as she reached Somi’s breasts. She stuck her tongue out, circling the hard nub before biting it gently. Jihyo pulled back, still biting Somi’s nipple. The pain and pleasure mixed; it was a whole new world for Somi, who felt a tightness in her core. Somi’s other breast wasn’t left alone; Jihyo squeezed it, pinching and pulling on the younger woman’s nipple. Somi’s moans grew louder, and the urge to finger herself grew stronger as Jihyo switched tits. “Shh, we haven’t even gotten to the good part,” Jihyo whispers. 

Somi, struggling to contain herself, moved her hand down her body and attempted to finger herself but was stopped by Jihyo. “From now until then, you're not allowed to touch yourself, understand? Mommy is going to take care of you.” Jihyo said, staring into Somi’s eyes. The younger woman gulped and nodded her head, pulling her hand away from her slit. Jihyo smiled and returned to pleasuring the younger woman, focusing solely on her tits for what seemed like forever. Somi was on the verge of cumming from that alone, but Jihyo pulled away.

“It’s time for you to turn around,” the older woman ordered. Somi did as she was told and waited, feeling Jihyo's weight move off the bed. She looked over her shoulder and watched the Twice leader put on a strap-on. It was about five inches as far as Somi could tell. Jihyo rubbed the cock, coating it in lube as she prepared to move on to the next step. As she climbed back onto the bed, Jihyo whispered to Somi, “We need to make sure your ass is going to be able to take his cock just as well as Chaeyoung’s. I hope you’re fine with not sitting right for a few weeks.” Jihyo spread the younger woman’s cheeks apart and pushed a single finger inside, testing the tightness of her asshole. Somi cooed as she felt the older woman curl her finger inside her. Her body shuddered as she came from that alone. Jihyo spanked the younger woman, “Who told you you can cum?” Jihyo asked, her voice laced with disappointment.

“Sorry, Mommy.” Somi groaned as she felt Jihyo add another finger to her ass. 

“Mommy is going to teach you a lot, but you have to get better at holding on,” Jihyo said, plunging her fingers into the younger woman. Somi moaned again, the tightness in her core coming back quickly. “I haven’t even put it in, and you're going to cum twice,” she complained, her fingers continuing to lube Somi’s walls. Jihyo positioned herself behind Somi, holding onto her waist as she pushed the head of her strap-on against the puckered hole. Somi buried her face in one of the pillows, groaning as she felt the head push inside, stretching her previously virgin ass. Jihyo continued to push in slowly, making sure every inch was inside and letting Somi become accustomed to it before beginning her thrusts. The older woman pressed down on Somi’s head with one hand as she used the other to keep the younger woman’s lower body arched as Jihyo thrust. 

The pleasure Somi felt outweighed the pain, and with every thrust, she was cumming, her body twitching as Jihyo took her from behind. Somi moans filled the room, and she begged for her mommy to fuck her. 

Jihyo smiled as she listened to the younger woman beg for more. Her plan to turn Somi into the perfect plaything was going to be a lot easier than she thought. The pair continued to fuck her hours, with Jihyo breaking Somi’s mind and making her pass out. This process continued for weeks leading up to your birthday, with Jihyo training Somi on how to give good blowjobs and what you liked. In each lesson, Somi became more and more submissive, focused on her goal of being the perfect toy. The pills she was given helped her by flooding her body with more pleasure. Somi followed every order during and after training, making it weeks since she touched herself. The only time she released all her tension was when Jihyo was training her. 

[screampied]

Fighting for dominance w yuki 🙏🏽

❤︎ ໋𓈒 trying to top yuki (you fail)

warnings. fem! reader, praise, doggy, dirty talk, she has a strap, petnames. mdni.

“oh. what’s this, baby?” yuki whispers, her eyes flicker towards your hovering body. her stare made you swallow. her legs remained spread, and she had a cunning grin tugging against his lips. she eyed your figure up and down before raising a eyebrow once you lightly shove her back. “you’re getting ahead of yourself. you’re gonna try to ride me?”

“yeah,” you utter, glancing down at her clear lengthy strap—you were already prepped, just barely getting over your last release from her eating you out.

as she tilted her head towards the side with a cheeky smile, you could still see some of your own slick running down her chin. “you don’t think i can?”

she giggles. “sweetheart, i never said that,” and she runs a hand across her thigh, watching you prepare to align yourself against the plump tip. “. . . although,” she breaks, teasingly staring off in the other direction, still manspread with her arms now stretched across the sides of the mattress. “i dunno, you couldn’t really take me if you tried. besides, you always end up tapping out.”

your eyes widen as you grew flustered before grumbling, “s-shut up.”

“aw. how ‘bout ya make me? otherwise i’ll just keep talking, princess.” she snickers, softly tracing her fingers down your waist just to get a reaction out of you.

she had the smuggest grin smeared on her face, watching you start to sink down on the strap-on.

“don’t hurt yourself now,” she giggles, eyeing you the entire time—you bit down on your lip, trying to suppress as much mind as you could, and she only simpers wider. “want me to hold your hand?”

“y-yuki,” you whined, putting a hand over her mouth. she playfully licks against your fingers, feeling you hover against the tip—you moan, your pussy gripping around the faux material before you jerked into her inwards. “stop talking.”

“not unless you make m—”

she gets cut off from the softness of your lips. you feel the smile still on his lips. she tastes sweet, candied even. yuki runs a hand down your hips as you gradually started to rut against her.

you ran your tongue against hers, tasting a tang of alcohol on her before you let off a whimper once she grips onto your ass.

she’s panting the more you deepened the kiss, she found it cute and you trying to show a bit more dominance—yet you were already failing. strands of her hair tickled against your skin the more your warm body heat made direct contact with hers.

the taste of her lip gloss had you hooked for more, the pure strawberry that resided against her lips. you moaned in your mouth before your hips started to pick up.

she briefly pulls away, a lustrous cobweb string of spit departing from your mouth and she stares at you.

“why can’t you look at me, princess?” she hums, grabbing ahold of your chin—you leer into her eyes before feeling butterflies swell in inside your tummy. she sneaks a wet kiss against your mouth as your hips rolled back and forth against her. “do i make you nervous?”

“no.” you immensely replied, feeling the continuously expand through your walls. it felt so good, you couldn’t help but moan all against her ear.

“no . . ?” she repeats, her tone was purely playful. yuki chuckles beside you before allowing her hands to roam all over your body—you shudder from the warmth of her touch before she whispers against your ear. “i’m a lot of things, sweetheart but i’m not an idiot,” and then she brings you close towards her chest.

you lean into her touch, thighs of yours rubbing against hers solely from your jagged body movements and she kisses near the inner part of your neck.

“you’re cute when you try to be all . . ” and she pauses for a moment, thinking of the word before tittering. “dominate.”

she studies your face, and you’re pouting. “pretty girl. don’t be so disappointed,” and she kisses you again — a quick kiss that never fails to leave you speechless everytime. “you want me to finish for you, hm?”

you sheepishly nod, stopping yourself from moving against the toy buried inside of you before she smiles, stroking your left cheek.

“at least you’re finally honest, baby,” she whispers, matching your pout before a small chortle leaves her lips. “c’mon, let’s do this the right way, yeah?”

she was so gentle—yet you found yourself pressed against the cushioned pillows, maintaining a swift arch and she towers over you even while being on her knees. yuki rubs a hand against your ass, caressing it as your cheek squished against the couch. “how do you want it, princess? tell me.”

“h-hard, yuki. jus’ make me cum.” you whined, not even caring anymore by this point.

“ooh,” she purrs, watching your back just go forward—your ass remained up and you were craving for her to inside again. you swallowed the nonexistent lump in your throat before feeling her gently prod the fat tip of the toy against your frontage. “say pretty please.”

you whine, wriggling your ass against the head part just for her to hurry up, “p-pretty please.”

“good girl,” she hums, her words went straight towards your cunt. you throbbed vigorously, aching for more of her touch. it wasn’t a want, it was a need. she’s slow as she starts to make her way inside again.

yuki lets off a soft groan, feeling you clamp down with such ease. once your thighs tapped against hers, she kissed her teeth before starting up a pace. “thaaaat’s it, baby. let me—let me take care of you.”

you moaned at the sweetness of her words, she was so deep—your eyes rolled back within seconds of her only delivering a few thrusts. she was tame yet grabbed both of your hips, slowly making sure you felt every inch.

“fuck,” she utters, hearing the sloppy squelches of your pussy voice all against her. yuki’s breathing started to become a bit raspy, quiet but very much raspy.

she always kept her eyes on your ass, she could never look away. the mere shape of it . . .

she ran her fingers across it while she’s fucking you dumb. such deep yet slow thorough strokes had you whining out her name loudly. she pulses from your words of pleasure everytime, but of course she never shows it.

this was all about you.

“you’re so pretty like this,” she hisses, bringing a few spanks to your ass to watch it jiggle—you whined, back arching a bit more for her and she playfully skims her hands down your spine to watch you jolt in pleasure. “how’s it feel, princess? lemme guess should i go harder?”

“p-please,” you squeak out, your head just mashed against the pillows.

she giggles, softly reaching down against your clit to create even more stimulation, earning out a surprised whimper from you.

“i know my girl well,” and then you feel her start to quicken up her hips. she’s reaching all the right spots, the angle was perfect. you felt the length of the toy continue to stretch out your pussy, leaving such a good taste in your mouth. “and to think you could have been topping me, hehe. we all start from somewhere, i guess.”

after a while you lost track of time, like most would.

you started to shake against her and she takes notice. yuki raises a brow before pressing all up against your ass, she’s fully inside and you moan at the warmth of her going against you. “is someone gonna cum? that why ya keep tryin’ to grab onto my leg, sweetheart—?”

the toy was so thick, your pussy made just as much noise as you did. cacophonies of mixed squelches that reverberated throughout the room. it felt so good . . . you clenched your jaw as you felt a hidden bundle of nerves make their way to stir you from the inside.

it’s a long pause as she’s still fucking you—you were a mess, strands of spit running down your mouth before she sings in a seductive tone, “well . . ?” she rubs a thumb against your bare ass whilst watching it jerk and move against her before she mutters. “if you want somethin’ from me, you gotta use your words. go on.”

“—wan’ cum, yuki,” you sniffled, your core was being filled with such inches. your ears rang and you could taste the sweetened orgasm on your tongue practically. “wanna cum, please. please let me c-cum . . ”

“good,” she hums cooingly. each praise she gifted you made you throb ten times more. you feel her grab your ass, scooting it directly towards her before she huffs out a single breath. “good girl. now give it to me, c’mon. don’t be shy. let go just for me, yeah.”

you moaned, feeling her pin your arms behind your back as she’s thrusting in and out of you.

instantly, you felt your legs intensely shake from the incoming rapture—you were simply dumb and close-mouthed. tongue tied even, your orgasm came crashing down on you and she watched as you’re just a mess, cute whines eliciting from your mouth.

your slick covered her faux base entirely, and she licks her lips while watching you ride it out—you panted, feeling her hips come to a stop before seconds later, she slowly pulls out. “aw. you’re so loud, baby. i told you.”

words of silence departed from your lips before she flips you over, pulling you into a deep, loving kiss. yuki’s rough hands gently danced against your skin as she pulled you close, only before you moan into her mouth once you feel her squeeze against your soaked pussy.

“all mine,” she whispers, breaking away to speak before she kisses against the side of your lip to stare you right in the eyes with such a dominant look. “who’s pretty pussy does this belong to, sweetheart?”

“yours, yuki.” you moaned, feeling her chest prick against yours—you felt so hot, in a good way. a smile goes on her lips before she nips at your neck in a playful manner.

“good girl, and it’ll stay that way,” she teases, soft eyes lingering at you for a few good seconds before she brushes a thumb over your wet lips. she leans in as if she’s about to kiss you again before she whispers against your lips. “unless you can ever prove me wrong, sweetheart.”

[rafeandonlyrafe]

the heavy weight of guilt (part two)

words: 700

warnings: 18+ only, smut, cheating, p in v sex, unprotected sex

part one / part two

“what the fuck did you do?” rafe growls.

“what?” you ask, batting your eyelashes at him. “you would never leave her unless she found out, so i made it so you have to be with just me.”

“you're fucking crazy if you think im going to stay with you after you destroyed my family.” rafe grunts out.

“destroyed? you did that by cheating on your wife. don't blame me for exposing the truth.”

“the truth is that you came into me, practically forced yourself onto me.”

“yet you were completely willing. don't be ridiculous rafe. you don't even care about your dumb kids or stupid wife anyways. all you care about is fucking young pussy.”

“aren't you worried ill leave you some day then? get with someone younger as you grow old and wrinkle.” rafe tilts his head to the side, trying to anger you even more.

“oh rafe” you laugh maniacally. “i will never let you leave me. i wont lose you like your wife did.”

“goddamn it.” rafe grunts, bending down and picking you up, slinging you over your shoulder like you're just a sack of flour.

“damn, you're strong when you're pissed.” you chuckle, which just makes rafes hold on you tighten further.

“shut up, please.” he begs. he needs to get his anger and frustration out, and since you're the cause of his guilt, it's going to be by using you.

“fine, we can talk about our new living arrangements after you fuck me silly.” you know you're only antagonizing rafe further as he tosses you onto the bed, throwing you so hard you bounce against the mattress.

“i hate you.” rafe says before smashing his lips against yours, dominating your mouth as his hands begin to strip you of your clothing, pulling it away until you're naked.

“get undressed, let me see you.” you say, trying to unbutton rafes shirt, but he just pushes your hand away.

“im gonna fuck you how i want to fuck you. you're not in control anymore.” 

you're surprised by his sure dominance. he's always been on top before, but he's never disobeyed you.

you keep quiet, lips practically sealing closed as rafe undoes his pants, tugging his zipper down just to pull his cock out, already hard like it always is whenever he's around you.

“god, look at you.” rafe groans when you spread your legs, pussy blossoming open for him like it always does. “such a little slut. my slut, and now im yours too. you made sure of that, huh?”

you're not sure how to respond, but rafe barely gives you any time anyways as he pushes forward, plunging his cock inside of you in one smooth motion.

despite his size, he gives you not even a moment to adjust as he begins to fuck you without a care, snapping his hips forward, focused solely on his own pleasure.

you try to keep your body relaxed as you watch rafe above you. his eyes are on you but they're glossed over, like he's in another place.

you sit up rapidly, tapping your palm against his face. “hey.” you grunt. “you're not thinking of someone else right?”

“what, like my soon to be ex wife? so what if i am? you ruined that already.” 

you move quickly, pulling your body away only to grab rafe and bring him forward onto the bed. he's so surprised by your sudden show of stretch that when you flip him over onto his back he doesn't question it.

“it's only me. you're mine forever.” you sink your pussy down on rafes cock.

his moans betray him as his head tilts back, mouth wide as you ride him, moving your hips quickly and aggressively to spur him on, not caring that your pussy is already sore.

“mine.” you growl as your hands attack the buttons on his shirt until you're able to pull the two sides open and reveal his bare torso, muscled and covered with a faint dusting of hair.

“i know, shit.” rafe knew he was yours from the moment your lips met, cementing the end of his marriage and end of the good guy streak he had going for many years.

“and you're going to cum in me and actually get me pregnant.” you already stopped taking your birth control the day after you sent that video to rafes wife. “and you'll like this kid and raise it how you want and never leave them or me.”

“god, you're fucking crazy.” rafe says, hips rising up to meet yours.

“and that's why you'll be mine forever.”