#I miss him and his gymnastics so much

[megaclubdiolis]

AC team off to Sgp last night and Haonan was there seeing them off. I know it’s probably bc 2 of his ZJ teammates were going and he’s there for them. (Xie replaced him) But I can’t help but wondering if he maybe for a second thought about all the would’ve should’ve could’ve’s.

I couldn’t make which hand was injured in the pic. He looked batter than I thought he’d be. The apocalypse phase’s probably gone already. He’s so cute even behind a mask. It’s actually really nice of him to wear one bc there’s been a mini Covid surge inside the team after nats also I assume he went to the hospital quite frequently these days so he wears mask to protect others health.

Get well soon, baby. It’s painful and devastating, but you have to.

[wardensantoineandevka]

I see there's posts floating around directly and blatantly arguing against mine (same wording) by completely misunderstanding what I said. I'm fucking BACK, babey. Should've bought some hay-scented fragrance while I was at Sephora today, because I am once again your strawman!

[tinystarbites]

accidents pt. II | Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Summary: during a long case away, Spencer accidentally sees Reader's nudes on her phone and can't cope because he is a MESS for reader whoops pt.II The Reckoning /j, this is basically just 10k words of porn with feelings yikes

Warnings: SMUT MDNI, 18+ only, fem!reader, fluff, some angst (still Spencer feeling he isn't good enough 😔), EMOTIONSSS, Spencer STILL loves you so much, he gets a hug, and so much more!, talk about sex, detailed asking for CONSENT (be safe people), sex (piv), some frottage, uhhh what else, dirty talk, some dom/sub understones (sub!Spencer ofc), little bit allusion to subspace, Spencer discovers so many kinks in this awww we're so proud of you bby (mentioned kinks: praise kink, squint of liking being embarrassed, tiiny bit of a voyeristic thing), also I made him a virgin whoops so virgin!Spencer, proofread but prolly not perfect lol. Tell me if I'm missing any tags I am so tired

(also, Spencer will be bisexual in all of my Spencer fics because I am not a coward like the writers were and I will honour Spencer the way he was intended to)

HERE you can read pt. I, I do recommend it to have context and all but do whatever you want lmao I'm not your mother anyway have fun being completely wrecked like I was while writing this!! also thanks so so MUCH for 400 followers and almost 2k likes on the first part, you guys are the best and I hope you enjoy this fic as a thanks!!<333

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Spencer’s never sprung from his bed faster in his life before.

His heart is a jackhammer in his chest, chipping away at his ribs one bone splitter at a time because-

It’s you. In front of his door. And Spencer is so hard it hurts but- he can’t just-

“Spencer?”

He sucks in a haggard breath, hands reaching up and messing up his hair even more. His thoughts are everywhere and nowhere at once and he just needs to- needs just a moment to-

“Uh, yeah, just a second!”, he calls back, voice scratchy and used from the- the moaning Jesus Christ because he was about to come with your mental image and he somehow, magically, managed to apparently conjure you up in front of his door with his pathetic pining and oh god-

He has to- ugh- has to wash his hands and make it go away and –

“Okay, I’ll just…chill with that weird plant here.”

An overwhelmed whimper slips past his lips and he just, stands there for at least another five seconds before something in his mind snaps back into place and he rushes to the small, adjacent bathroom of his room.

After he thoroughly washed his hands, his erection has flagged off enough so that it’s not the first thing greeting you when he opens the door and thank god for that.

And oh- seeing you after doing that actually knocks the wind out of his lungs because you are just so goddamn lovely it makes Spencer want to do stupid, stupid things like cry or kiss you or spontaneously combust into a million pieces.

For once, he does something okay-ishly sensible though.

“Hi.”

You look at him, one eyebrow raised in amusement or scepticism, he doesn’t know for sure. Your eyes hold mirthful sparkles in them when he finally manages to meet your gaze, so he settles for the former of the two options.

You’re not wearing your work clothes anymore. Rather, you went for a cozy looking, oversized sweater and funkily patterned leggings. Your fashion sense outside of work always reminded Spencer of Penelope’s.

“Hi to yourself”, you chuckle, “Can I come in or are you too busy reading ten books at once?”

Spencer feels himself flush under your gentle teasing.

“Only seven books. But, yes, of course you can come in.”

He turns out of the way, creating room for you to pass him into his room. As soon as you are inside, you don’t hesitate to jump onto his bed and flop on your back with your arms spread wide.

Spencer’s breath hitches and he has to do some very extensive mental gymnastics to supress all the inappropriate thoughts from escaping the box he banished them into. Controlling his body’s response to seeing you in the same bed he was just jacking off in is… a different story. He pulls down the hem of his shirt as discreetly as possible, as he takes a seat next to you. Making sure that there is not too much distance between you two as to raise any suspicion and make it obvious he’s trying to get some distance between you, but also enough space so that he isn’t enticed to do anything unwise. Like, reach out and feel your warmth underneath his fingers. Or the softness of your skin. Or anything else really.

The more seconds tick by in which neither of you say anything, the more nervous Spencer becomes. He starts fiddling around with his fingers, aborting more than one move to steal a glance at your face to see what you’re thinking.

“Spencer”, you then finally say, voice kind of pout-y and if that didn’t make Spencer whip his head around to face you, the next thing you say for sure does. “Do you hate me?”

“Wha-“, he sputters your name, “No- no! Of course, I don’t- whe- why would you think that?”

You let out an exasperated groan, moving around until you are lying on your side, head propped up on your arm and frowning up at him. “Because you’ve been acting hella weird these last few days and you won’t tell me whyyyy”, you drag out the last syllable, pout on your lips and Spencer has to look up at the ceiling or else he’s just going to confess everything without second thought and that will definitely not happen.

“I haven’t been acting weird, really, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You remain silent again and Spencer feels the judging glare you send his way without having to look at you. Yes, he has been acting weird, he knows that, but you can never ever know the reason why tha-

“Is it because you saw my nudes?”

Spencer almost breaks his neck with how fast he whips his head down to look at you again. A strangled noise escapes him without permission and what. What.

“Because, that would actually explain so much, especially the way you’ve been acting and really, that’s probably on me because I’ve always been telling myself to put them behind a password block but I somehow always manage to forget that because apparently I have only one braincell left that’s stuck spinning on the deep-fried version of Funky Town and well, I guess I’m glad it was you that found them and not someone else and-“

“What? No, no, I didn’t- What- that’s not- what-“, Spencer cuts off your rambling with a horrified, screeched version of a protest because how- how could you have guessed what’s going on with just one try? Is Spencer so- so absolutely besotted with you that he’s so obvious? Spencer is so very confused and overwhelmed with whatever the hell is going on, he kind of misses the slight twitching of your mouth.

“Come on, Spencer. I said it’s fine and basically my own fault. Uh- well, actually… sorry. Because, well, that’s probably not very work-appropriate… I will pay for your therapy session, just send me the bill.”

Spencer thought he’d reached the limits of confusion seconds ago but apparently, he hadn’t. What. What are you even saying?

“Therapy sessions?”

You just- ignore him.

“Oh, also, please don’t tell Hotch? He’ll be pissed, despite me literally just doing hot-girl shit, y’know-“

Oh, Spencer cannot take it anymore.

He says your name and, “Stop, please, please, just-“

You snap your mouth shut, pulling your lips between your teeth and Spencer definitely doesn’t miss the way you have to force your mouth to stay still this time.

“Are you- is this a joke?”, Spencer asks, frazzled and desperate and so confused he just wants to bury his head under the duvet and never come out again. Because if you don’t actually know but- are just joking around, oh Spencer is overwhelmed, alright.

Your expression changes into something panicked then. “No, no, Spencer, sorry. I’m- sorry. Of course I’m not joking, I’m so sorry. It’s just a little bit too easy to tease you. Sorry.” You actually look apologetic now, lips downturned and frowning slightly.

“Not joking- so… so, you know?”, there’s something big and anxious pressing inside of Spencer’s chest. The urge to hide away and never face daylight again intensifies tenfold. He’s flushing before he realizes, hands trembling and breathing a bit too fast to be considered normal. Oh god, you know, you actually know, you’re going to- you’re never going to speak with him again you are probably here to tell him how weird and- and-

You must’ve noticed the frenzy he is thinking himself into, because you reach out with one hand and gently nudge his thigh with one knuckle. “Spencer”, you say, voice serious and steady and not the slightest bit disgusted or harsh and it snaps him out of his anxiety spiral.

“I knew the second I walked back into that room after you basically fled the precinct. I am, really, genuinely, sorry for making you uncomfortable. Like, it wasn’t actually my intention for you to see them. And then, after I realized what… I just wanted to wait and see what you’d do, if you came to talk to me or, well…”

You sigh, the hand that nudged him ruffling through your hair.

“I didn’t handle this situation very well. I’m really sorry. So… “, you trail off, scrunching your nose in that adorable way of yours that makes Spencer want to kiss it until it scrunches even further because you’d laugh and try to fight him off.

“We can just- forget about this. Forget that it ever happened, or-“, you hesitate again.

Spencer feels suddenly breathless. Like he stands in front of a cliff face, seconds before taking the step to send himself careening towards something immeasurably great or devastatingly fatal.

“Or…?”, he breathes, voice small and unsure.

You meet his eyes again after what feels like hours. There’s something intense in them, burning, and it’s like an electric shock to Spencer’s system. He’d give anything for you to keep looking at him like that forever.

“Or”, your hand returns to his thigh, but this time you let your fingers travel along the shape of it and Spencer whimpers. The burning in your eyes intensifies and Spencer feels hot, suddenly, so hot he’s burning with it. “Or we can do something else.”

“Something else?”, Spencer basically croaks because his throat is so dry and it’s difficult for his body to function properly when you are touching him like that.

You hum in agreement. “Whatever you want. You can tell m-“

“You.”

You look a bit startled when he cuts you off with that one, desperate syllable. Startled but also endlessly amused and Spencer just- his mind is apparently turned off, what the-

You laugh quietly, and your eyes soften, and it does something to Spencer that leaves an ach-y feeling in his chest. Oh, he loves you so much he can’t take it.

“Sure. You can have me”, you say simply, as if it’s the easiest thing in the world for you to admit, “Tell me what exactly you want, because I’d give you the world if you asked.”

And suddenly there’s hot pressure behind Spencer’s eyes, at the back of his throat. You’re just- just- amazing and so lovely and so kind to him, no one has ever said something like that to him, he doesn’t know how to handle it.

Spencer blinks up to the ceiling, desperately willing these stupid unwelcome tears away because crying about you treating him kindly is so on the bottom of the list of acting casual about this, so he rather feels than sees you sitting up next to him. Your hand slips from his legs and he feels the loss of your touch as if someone sucked the marrow from his bones. Before he can say something embarrassing like ‘please touch me again’ he feels your hand covering his. It fills him with a heady kind of courage.

“I want…”, Spencer starts, feeling entirely too uncomfortable with having to state his deepest and darkest desires. There’s the old familiar urge to start picking at his nails nagging at him, but you just interlace your fingers with his and start tracing random patterns into the skin there with your thumb. Spencer melts against you and tenses up at the same time because it’s just so- so nice. It feels so nice and Spencer never thought he’d ever get to have things like that with you but you’re here. You’re here, with him, and basically offering Spencer the entire world on a silver platter but it’s still so so unfathomably difficult just saying what he so badly wants.

“You want…?”, you hum slightly, voice soft and so tender as you continue painting patterns on his skin and Spencer would literally die for you. And that’s the entire problem. Spencer doesn’t know if you’d do the same. Well. Maybe not die die for him but. He can’t just sleep with you, and it not meaning anything to you. It would kill him. It would kill him, if after you give him tenderness and pleasure and acceptance in a way he’s never dreamed of receiving, you would go back to normal. Always politely distanced, close, but never close enough and it already twists his chest just thinking of that possibility.

“I just-“, he tries again, but when the words are stuck in his throat, sticky molten sugar that tastes like bile and fear, he pulls out of your grip and buries his face in his hands. He’s so bad at this. He’s the worst. No wonder he’s never had- had something like Morgan has, one night stand after one night stand (not that he particularly wants that, god no, but just-) because Spencer is just so bad at spilling all of the things that plague his gut and keep his thoughts in overdrive at night. No wonder he’s never even had a girlfriend or boyfriend before.

“Hey, hey, Spencer”, he feels your hands cupping his own, still over his face. Not taking them away, but just – there. “It’s alright, penguin, we can always come back to this another time. I’ll wait.”

Spencer’s face crumples and his breath hitches a little because- penguin. That’s the frankly ridiculous nickname you’ve been using for him ever since he apparently once looked like one, with that white scarf and knee-length black coat he wore during one of your cases where a blizzard surprised not only the team, but also the unsub. Spencer, like most of you, wasn’t prepared and thus, had to make do with what the helpful officers provided them with. And well, Spencer drew the penguin stick it seemed.

It’s ridiculous but sweet and it always makes him feel so loved, loved by you, because it’s adorable and theirs and he just loves it irrationally much, okay? And also, penguins are just really fascinating because-

“Did you know that most penguins live monogamously? The Emperor penguin is actually one of the only ones that mate seasonally, they only have one mate per breeding season. But most others have a mate for life, like, like swans and bald eagles.”

Before Spencer even opened his mouth, he was aware of the fact he was going to ramble on about some unimportant stuff. It’s always like this, it always feels like a breath he’s been holding in for too long, like an itch somewhere in his weird brain that only stops when he opens his mouth and infodumps and he cannot stop it. No matter how consciously he is telling himself to cut it out or screaming at himself to shut the fuck up you weirdo, it’s unavoidable. As soon as his brain latches onto a statistic or a fact it is reminded of, it’s an unstoppable force.

Like now. He is kicking himself. Why, oh why can’t he ever be normal? He feels himself flushing bright red from embarrassment and shame and frustration. He can’t believe he is rambling about birds while- while whatever the hell you two are doing right now. While in the middle of a conversation that started out with you confronting him about him seeing your nudes, jesus christ.

Spencer is about to suffocate himself with a pillow when you let out a graceless snort.

It confuses Spencer so much he lowers his hands to look at you and- oh.

Your eyes are shining with something that looks so close to what he would call affection, and it makes him want to bawl his eyes out and at the same time, smile so hard there’ll be laugh lines on his cheeks for the rest of the week.

“Well, that fits perfectly then”, you say, and Spencer doesn’t understand.

“What do you mean?”

You smile just a little wider, a little more teasingly but in a nice way, in a kind way and it leaves Spencer’s chest blooming with warmth.

“If you’re my penguin, I’ll be your penguin.”

Youryouryouryouryour-

Spencer feels entirely braindead. Only the fact that you called him yours registers. Because yes. Yes. Spencer is so yours he’d gladly let you make every decision for him from now on in his life and yes. That’s not exactly a very normal thing to think. Or to want. Spencer doesn’t care. He’s never felt normal about you for a day in his life and he definitely won’t start now.

“You- you mean- like, as, as mates?”

You scrunch your nose in disgust. “If you want to call us that, I think I’ll take back my offer.”

It punches a giggle out of Spencer, sudden and kind of light-headed. He watches your face break into a wide grin.

“But you- you’d like that?” You’d like me?

You pull a face, sniffing in a nonchalant way, direct your face to your nails in fake disinterest.

“Sure. Whatever.”

And Spencer can’t help himself. He sobs out a laugh- laughs out a sob or, whatever that weird noise he makes is, because you’re so ridiculous and he loves you more than anything in the world.

You roll your eyes, fondly, shake your head slightly.

“Of course, Spencer. I’d like that very much because I like you a very unnormal amount. Literally. On my knees, crying, screaming etcetera”, you say just like that, smiling just like that.

Spencer feels like he’s dreaming. He must be. There’s no other explanation for it. He just can’t wrap his head around the fact that you could like him. You. You’re so, so lovely and amazing and you deserve everything good in this world and Spencer is just. Spencer.

“You- you like me? Me?”, Spencer can’t hide the incredulous tone that seeps into his questions because you like him?

There’s no traces of humour in your eyes anymore. Your eyes look painfully honest, face suddenly serious, and it steals Spencer’s breath away.

You lean closer to him again, grabbing his hands with yours. Your gaze bores itself into his, intense and steady and he can’t look away. “Spencer. I know it’s- I know life has been hard on you for way too long. And that leaves its marks on you. That’s fine. It’s human. But. You do not deserve any less love because of that, do you understand me? Of course I like you, what isn’t there to like? You’re kind and funny and sweet and just so- Spencer. You’re so lovable and it kills me to know that you don’t see how you are so worthy of being loved.”

Oh.

Oh.

You can’t just- can’t just say things like that and expect him to not cry a little. Can’t expect him to act completely nonchalant and cool about all of this when you say things like that to him. Are you trying to kill him? Because it sure does feel like that.

Spencer is so completely at a loss. He doesn’t know what to say to that- not to mention what to do. How do you always do this? How can you see straight to the hidden, bruised core of him, littered with all these ugly and bad things and. Just. Figure out what to say to strike him exactly there.

It should scare him, being known so deeply. It should, but it doesn’t because it’s you. You are warmth and acceptance like his favourite place in front of a fireplace, book in hand and rain gently knocking against windows. You are quiet mornings at work, you are soft rays of sunlight in his hair, you are gentle hands helping you up when you fall and bruise your knees. You are –

A touch to his cheek startles him. He opens his eyes – when did he close them? – to your fingers brushing some stray tears away, so softly as if he’s something precious, something to be held delicately. That thought sends new tears spilling down his cheek. He can’t believe this is affecting him so much, so completely he simultaneously feels like he is going to shatter and be stitched back together again.

He never knew he needed this so much.

“Sorry for making you cry, penguin. I didn’t think this discussion about my lack of nude etiquette would get this emotionally damaging”, you say, voice hushed in the big silence of the room, a small smile on your lips and eyes so kind.

Spencer snorts, despite himself. This has really been a very bizarre evening. He feels almost drunk on the weirdness of it all, on the rollercoaster that his emotions have ridden all evening. That’s probably why he does what he does next.  

“Neither did I, especially after you interrupted me while I wa-“

Spencer shuts his mouth so fast he clicks his teeth together, eyes wide and suddenly horrified. He- what-

Why?

Why can’t Spencer ever keep his big mouth shut? Is he completely and utterly insane?

There’re alarm bells going off somewhere in Spencer’s head and a concerning warmth settling deep in his stomach when your grin takes on a slightly devilish edge, one he knows all too well and. And. Oh. He’s in trouble. So much trouble. Why did he have to say that?

“After I interrupted you while?”, you prompt him, eyes electric and hot and oh god-

Spencer is so dumb. An idiot. Of the highest order. High IQ, where?

“Nothing”, he says, voice high-pitched and rushed and he curses himself and his ability to act everything else but nonchalant. He’d be the worst actor of all time.

“Spencer.”

The tone of your voice rearranges something in his neurons. He can feel himself sit up just that little bit straighter, can feel his mind buzz at the edges. He’s never felt like this before.

He loves it.

“Hmm?”, is all he gets out. Trouble, so much trouble.

Suddenly you’re standing up, away from him and Spencer wants to whine because you should stay there next to him, forever fixed to his side. He doesn’t have to despair long, because you take one of your knees and gently nudge his legs apart with it and okay. Okay. That definitely didn’t just send Spencer’s mind reeling. That wasn’t just totally the hottest thing that ever happened to him.

You slot yourself between his legs as if you own that space and. In his humble opinion, you do. You so do. Spencer is willing to give you a map of his entire body and a marker and tell you to please demarcate every part of him you want. He’d give it to you, no questions asked.

He is looking up at you, at your burning eyes that still hold something so soft in them that makes the lump in his throat bigger again. And by god, Spencer just needs to hear you say it again-

“You like me?”

You move closer to him, lifting one hand and placing it underneath his chin. Your thumb traces along his jaw and Spencer feels like he is going to burst into a million embarrassed pieces.

“Yes”, you say simply, but the way you say it. Spencer can’t help but shiver and exhale shakily. He feels so warm, everywhere. His skin burns where your fingers are touching him. He never wants this to stop.

“You- You want me?”

Your hand grips his face a little stronger, your other fingers splaying over and down his throat and there’s a high noise coming from somewhere and there’s goosebumps on his body everywhere and oh, wait- it’s him. The noise. Well, how embarrassing but. He doesn’t care. Nope. Not at all.

…Okay maybe a little. His face feels warm, suddenly, warmer than the rest of him and yes. He’s blushing, okay?

“Spencer”, the way you say his name it- god, “I want you. I said it before, but. I will give you anything. Tell me what you want, Spencer, and you will get it from me.”

Your eyes are so dark and your voice so low and Spencer actually whines and. He’s hard again, so hard, because he didn’t come before and now, he’s even more pent-up and his thoughts are a mess, but you haven’t even touched him more than this and he’s already so worked up from you just saying these things to him-

“I want you”, Spencer pants, currently finding no other English words in the dictionary of his mind. And well. Emily was right about him. IQ slashed to zero when pretty person do thing.

He watches you take a deep breath, as if to steady yourself, as if this whole thing is affecting you as much as it affects him but that’s- ridiculous. Impossible. Because. Have you seen yourself?

“I know that, Spencer. But what do you want from me? Do you want me to kiss you?”, you ask, face suddenly so close to his Spencer feels your breath fan over his skin, and he whimpers because yes he wants that wants that- “Do you want me to touch you more?”, your other hand grabs his side, gentle but just a little bit roughly and Spencer is suddenly vividly reminded of the fact how strong you are and he feels kind of lightheaded-

“Do you want me to fuck you, Spencer?”

Spencer is going to pass out. And die. And moan and say, “Please yes yes yes”. Maybe not in that particular order.

“Okay, angel, anything you want”, you say, smiling softly at him as if he’s the best thing in the world and angel. Angel. Angel.

Before he’s even started to process you calling him angel, he sees a glint in your eyes, that edge in your smile again and before he knows what’s happening, you’re kissing him.

You’re kissing him and it’s- everything.

Your mouth is soft against his, and Spencer’s insides twist and flutter and his brain is kind of lagging behind, but he wants to be closerclosercloser-

It’s so good Spencer completely blanks on everything. There’s nothing in his mind except the feel of your lips moving against his. There’s no insecurity, no embarrassment tainting this moment even though this is literally like, only the sixth kiss or so of Spencer’s life and he has no idea what he is doing. But it’s so good.

A noise somewhere between a moan and a whimper escapes him when you lick into his mouth and Spencer’s soul almost leaves his body. He feels you shudder where you are pressed together, chest to chest.

“Spencer, Spencer”, you breathe against his lips, in between wet, hot, kisses. You rub your nose against his, eyes closed.

“Hmm?”, he hums, his voice somewhere in Canada or wherever. His mouth is too busy smiling so wide it hurts, anyways. No time for articulating anything.

“You’re amazing, Spencer, amazing.”

And he wants to shake his head, no, because the only one amazing here is you. But it’s impossible to disagree with you when your mouth has returned to his in a way that is probably ruining him for anyone else. (He’s okay with that.)

You peck him on the lips once, twice more, before you press your lips against his jaw, exactly where you had your fingers before. Your hands are basically the only thing holding Spencer up in a sitting position, because he feels like molten chocolate in your hands. Muscles apparently forgetting to do their job and well. Who can blame them? Spencer has stopped thinking in proper sentences the moment you had walked into his life, so. Only a matter of time until you broke the rest of him as well.

You kiss his neck and Spencer gasps. It’s really been a hot minute - three years, one hundred, twenty-one days and twenty hours to be exact – the last time he made out with someone. Everything feels heightened on his heated skin, especially you opening your mouth against him and licking him oh god-

It almost feels like a reward when you gently bite at his skin next. Spencer almost screams.

“So good, so so good for me”, he hears you whisper into the skin of his neck and this time, Spencer does make a noise. Because yes. He wants that. Be good for you. That’s the only thing in his fuzzy mind that feels clear, that feels graspable.

He can see your pupils dilate. Can see the wicked lilt to your lips. “You like being good for me, don’t you, angel?”

ANGEL. Spencer is nodding his head before he knows he does so. “Yes, yes.”

“Fuck”, he hears you breathe against him and it’s strange, seeing the effect he has on you. Did really he do that? “I can’t believe how incredible you are, sweetheart.”

And you need to stop. If you keep calling Spencer these things- he’s pretty sure he won’t survive this. The team would need to find another genius to solve cases with. His cactus Greg would dry out and wilt and die. You and Penelope would need to find another victim to send confusing memes to.

“Did you like my pictures, Spencer?”, you then ask and that’s so not fair. You can’t just ask him that while he’s so utterly in your hands that he’s sure he’d tell you about every little fantasy he’s had about you ever if you asked.

Because Spencer wants to be good, feels that need so deeply in his bones, he nods frantically. “Yes, I- I liked them.”

At the same time the words leave his mouth, something feels wrong. There’s an ugly thing twisting in his stomach, so unpleasant it momentarily occludes the high-octane bliss-fuzz fogging up his mind.

You notice the shift in mood almost immediately. “What’s wrong, angel?”

And well. It’s just- that guilt. Of not saying anything to you about Spencer seeing your nudes, of just ogling you like that without your permission. That wasn’t very good of him. Actually, the opposite. He’s been bad and he hates that. Hates that so severely that there’s suddenly tears on his cheeks and oh no. That’s mortifying. Who cries before sex? Jesus Christ he’s such a virgin it is genuinely embarrassing.

“I’m- I’m sorry”, he stutters, a little bit hysterical, creating distance between you, arms slung around himself, “I should’ve, should’ve said something, I’m so so sorry, I’m the worst friend and now I’m- I’m crying, oh god, I’m so sorry-“

“Hey, hey hey whoa. Spencer, darling. Penguin. Look at me, please?”

But he shakes his head. He doesn’t deserve to look at you again. What was he even thinking? He was- so creepy and now- now-

Two warm hands grab his face and then Spencer is looking into your eyes again. He squeezes his own shut, but all that it does is send more tears spilling over his cheeks and he’s so fucking stupid-

“Baby, please.”

Spencer sobs.

Jesus Christ. Jesus Christ. That’s the best thing he has ever heard but he doesn’t deserve these things.

“Of course you deserve it, silly goose”, you say and oh. He’s said that out loud.

Your thumbs brush over his cheeks and Spencer can’t not lean into your touch, despite everything. Because that’s just the way it always is. He’s drawn to your warmth and tenderness like a moon revolves around its planet.

“I thought we’d established that it was an accident? And if it was someone’s fault, then mine, because no password, remember?”

Spencer opens his eyes. The deep affection swimming in yours makes him sob again. He’s a mess. A crying, horny mess and Spencer definitely fucked this up. Why does Spencer always ruin the few good things in his life?

“Spencer, Spencer. Hey. It’s okay, I promise you. We wouldn’t be doing this, if it wasn’t, okay?”, you kiss his nose. “Do you want to lay down, maybe?”

He nods, not really thinking clearly. He moves up the bed, under the covers and curls up on his side. He waits for you to get up from the bed, for you to walk over to the door and leave. To say that this was a mistake, he was a mistake. To say that you take back everything you said to him in the last half hour.

He’s not just a little surprised to feel your weight dip the mattress, to feel even more sudden warmth engulf him when you spoon him from behind. You start tracing swirly patterns over the skin of his arm and he feels goosebumps spread all over his body.

Some minutes tick by, you still holding him, when his tears have finally dried up. He doesn’t remember crying so much in one day. Spencer feels miserable.

“Do you still like me?”, he asks, and yes, it’s pathetic and stupid but. He doesn’t care if you never have sex or if you’re not going to be more than his friend now. Because the thought of you not being in his life in any capacity anymore- just no.

He can feel you freeze and take in a sharp breath. “Wha- Spencer. Of course, I still like you. I don’t care what we do, I just want to be with you. In any way you’ll have me.”

You sound so understanding and sincere and actually confused about his fear as if you’d never even think of not liking him anymore and and and-

And something in him just- snaps. He wants you, needs you so much he’s going to die if he doesn’t-

He shuffles and turns in your arms until he’s face to face with you. You look at him, eyebrow raised in question but so beautiful and lovely and you still like him-

“I want you so bad”, he says and then he presses his lips against yours again.

You respond immediately, low moan escaping you and Spencer is greedy, he wants to hear more, feel more, feel everything with you.

He’s kissing you as if he’s going to die if he ever stopped, which, yes, he absolutely would, and you kiss him back as if you can’t live without him. It makes everything become hazy again, like before, and every bad feeling suddenly feels eons away. Like he’s underwater, floaty and relaxed. Safe, he feels safe in the way you kiss him and hold him. Like you always do.

You move your kisses to his neck, sucking and biting and Spencer is moaning and moaning and can’t stop and then suddenly, you’re gone, what –

“Spencer, Spencer, wait”, you pant, out of breath and flushed and he wants to cry again, “Sorry, sorry I just-“

You frame his face in your hands, a little bit roughly. “I’m so sorry for making this so hard, you’re being so good for me, but Spencer. Have you done this before?”

Somewhere in the fog that is his minds, Spencer finds his voice. It’s high and airy but he doesn’t care. “No, no, I haven’t.”

He watches you take a deep breath, feels your fingers digging into his skin a little bit more.

“Tell me. Do you want this, Spencer?”, your voice is shaking as if you need to keep yourself in check and Spencer can’t believe he’s getting to see you like this.

“Yes”, he says because he can’t ever want anything else, and, “Please make me feel good.”

You inhale sharply, your grip on his face bordering on painful. “Spencer, you’re incredible, amazing, the best- I’ll make you feel good, okay? I’ll make you feel so good because you deserve it.”

“Yes”, Spencer is not ashamed of how whiny he sounds. No. He’s owning it now. This is his thing now, okay? He’ll gladly be your pathetic wet cat, or whatever the term was that you sometimes use to describe him with. Whatever it even means.

“Good”, you grin, and then you push on his shoulder hard and he’s on his back. And you. Sitting on top of him, thighs on either side of him. Straddling him exactly where he wants you most and he exhales a needy ‘ah’. His hypothesis of liking being manhandled is… yet to be disproven. He’s discovering so many things about himself today.

Pleasure radiates in waves from where you’re passively giving pressure to his hard cock and yeah okay. This is good. Amazing. He’s never felt better. But-

“Please.”

“Please what, angel?”

“More?”

“More what?”

Your fingers trailing along his throat and jaw, down his chest and teasing ghost-like over his nipples are not really helpful in finding the right words to what he wants. You take pity on him.

“More touch?”

Spencer nods his head, so fast he almost gets dizzy because he’s at that point again where everything feels liquid, hazy, a little bit unreal. So, speaking is already quite the task.

You smile at him as if he just solved the most difficult equation. “Doing so good, Spencer. Incredible.”

He moans. Okay. Another hypothesis to add to his ever-growing list of scientific discoveries today.

“Where do you want touch, Spencer? Here?”, there’s hands in his hair. He shakes his head.

“Hmm… Here?”, fingers drawing circles on his chest and yes, that feels nice, so nice but he wants-

“Here?”, you ground your hips down and jesus-

“Yes!”, Spencer almost chokes on the sound. Pleasure shoots up his spine and he whimpers. “Please.”

You exhale shakily, looking flush. “Okay. Because you ask so nicely.” There’re two little taps on his lower stomach through his shirt. “Do you want to take this off first? Or no?”

The way you give him the chance to say no- the way you respect his autonomy so deeply-

It’s basic human decency, yes, but it’s also the hottest thing and Spencer feels so valued and understood and safe that he’s not even hesitating when he mutters a quiet yes.

You help him sit up because he’s currently not really heir over his body like he usually is. Help his head out of the shirt and thread his arms out. And then, he’s half naked in front of you and suddenly, the doubt and insecurity that’ve been so quiet so far are back with a vengeance.

The urge to cover himself is so big it’s impossible to stop his arms from wrapping around himself.

Spencer knows he’s not ugly. He’s not that bad looking actually. Can’t be too bad if Morgan keeps insisting on calling him pretty boy, even though Spencer sometimes still has the sneaking suspicion that he’s teasing him. But his friend wouldn’t be so cruel.

But other people like to be. Pipe-cleaner, leek, straw, big-eyes. He’s heard it all before. He has matured enough and grown into himself so that these things don’t bother him like they used to. But still. Still. These things are arduous to scrub from under his skin.

Your gaze on him though- he’s never felt so, cleaned from all of these mean words before. You look- you look reverent while mapping his skin and maybe that’s the reason why he lowers his arms again.

“Spencer. You’re a dream”, you say, almost in trance. Almost as if you’re hypnotized by him, and he’s flushing. But. Being watched so intently, being admired like that. He feels his dick give an indigent twitch against your clothed core. Another thing for the list.

“So impatient”, you tut and Spencer flushes more. He thinks he’s waited long enough for this. But he doesn’t say that. If you stopped now- he would definitely combust spontaneously.

You lean down, over him. Hands trailing along his sides like you did earlier, but without any clothes between your skin and his. It’s almost too much. And not enough. He feels electrified, where you touch him. His heart is hammering against his ribs so hard you must be able to feel it. His stomach is in knots, fluttery. He’s never felt more alive.

You connect your lips to his throat, placing kiss after kiss along the arched length of it. Follow the same path with your tongue and Spencer whines, curves up against you a little. Everything feels so good Spencer is floating in it.

You shift your attention to his collarbones next, kissing but then gently biting and Spencer feels the indents of your teeth all the way through to his back and he hopes, wants, you to sink them into him so deep they’ll leave marks. So that he carries the evidence of this with him for the rest of this case, so that there’s absolutely no more doubt to who he belongs to. That thought alone makes him whimper, makes him feel that tiny little bit more lost in you.

You start kissing along his chest, down his stomach. Open mouthed, wet kisses and Spencer shivers when the places you put them feel cold after because of your spit. The lower you get, the noisier he becomes and at one point, Spencer would’ve been embarrassed. Well, he kind of is, but he’s also so turned on that the embarrassment doesn’t feel as stifling like usual. Rather, in a weird way, it makes everything hotter, and he does not own enough brain capacity right now to decipher that. But he does add it to the list.

When your face is dangerously close to the waistband of his pyjama, Spencer tenses, holds his breath. Being shirtless is one thing, but… well.

“It’s okay, Spencer. We only do as much as you feel comfortable with”, you murmur, giving a small peck to the left of his belly button. You calmingly follow his sides with your hands, smiling at him with so much affection in your eyes that Spencer feels speechless, breathless, until the tension releases his muscles again and he melts into the sheets.

“’m just…”, he tries, he really tries so hard to tell you that he wants this more than anything he’s ever wanted but that he just feels… insecure.

You kiss his stomach again. “How about we only take off the pyjama? For now? If you want to take off your underwear too later, we can still do that.”

That… that’s actually a good idea. So, he nods.

“Words, angel.”

“Yes, yes. That’s- good.”

You look so proud of him. “You’re so good, Spencer. Perfect.”

He moans embarrassingly loud. He really should be more concerned about this. About how you are basically pulling him apart, thread by thread and he just lets you, willingly. How you know which threads to pull to reduce him to a sweaty mess in what felt like 0.2 seconds.

There’s a finger dipping beneath the waistband, moving back and forth along the newly exposed skin. Your eyes watch him intently, almost predator-like. A question is in there somewhere as well and Spencer nods again.

You help him lift his hips, help him pull down the pants. Spencer is kind of busy kicking his legs a little to shake them off completely but when he looks back and down himself to where you are hyper-focused on the outline of his cock through the thin fabric he blushes.

Even more when he notices the big, dark blue splotch in front of his underwear. That’s definitely never happened before. How embarrassing.

When you look up at him again, you’re also flushed. Eyes dark, wide, voice kind of unsteady. “Spencer, Spencer, can I?”

“Please”, and then you palm him with your hand, and it feels so good it takes all of his concentration to not come on the spot. He doesn’t know if he’ll survive this until you arrive to the main thing.

It’s not the first time someone has touched him like that, but it is the first time you are doing it, and it already feels better than anything he’s ever felt before. You’re either a wizard or Spencer is just biased because he thinks everything you do is ten times better than the same thing done by someone else.

Probably the first reason.

He has his head angled back, one of his arms thrown over his eyes. If he looked at you now, he’s pretty sure, he’d come. Visual stimulation on top of physical would probably be the end of him. It’s already too much, just feeling your hand move up and down his dick in various pressures. Almost as if you are testing what he likes best, and Spencer is definitely here for it. Definitely. He’s happy to just let you experiment with him until you know all the different ways to drive him mad with pleasure with just a few moves.

Which, you apparently already figured out, judging by the way Spencer can’t form a single coherent thought anymore. It’s already, so good, so freaking good holy shit, and you’re still not touching him. Still a layer of fabric between your hand and him and he kind of- just-

“Take it off?”

You still your hand, looking up at him. You look kind of crazed, almost a little pained. It takes two deep breaths for you to process what he just asked, eyes a little unfocused before they fix Spencer to the bed with an intensity that makes him feel unfocused. “You sure, angel?”

Spencer literally can’t do anything but nod. You stay in your position for some moments longer, before you sigh out a long breath, mumbling something that suspiciously resembles you’re gonna be the death of me. Spencer misses your warmth on top of him the second you hoist yourself up. It’s kind of crazy and destitute of him. You are literally right there but he’s waited for this for so long it feels like he’s suffocating without your weight pressing him down. Which is ironic and also, insane.

Your fingers are gentle, when they move under the stretchy fabric of his underwear. Even gentler when they pull down and down and down until Spencer is entirely naked in front of you.

Oh, he feels so exposed. While he has been the recipient of a mediocre hand job before, it’s been in his trousers. This is kind of the first time someone sees him naked like that, because school locker rooms and his mother don’t count.

He doesn’t dare look at you. If there’s anything akin to disappointment, not to mention disgust on your face- Spencer probably would have to jump out the window, stat. His gaze is frozen on his cock, steadily leaking precum on his stomach (which, embarrassing). He’s abashedly trying to insert himself into your point of view, tries to imagine what you think about seeing him like this. What you might think about his dick, if it’s too short or too thin or if it looks weird, if he should’ve shaved. If his legs look strange and too gangly now, or if his stomach connects to his pubic area wrong or-

“Holy shit”, you say, and Spencer is too curious for his own damn good sometimes, because he can’t force his gaze to stay away from you.

You look at him- like before. Reverent but more, so much more. He almost feels like a deity, the way you look at him. Someone to be awed by, someone that should be worshipped. Spencer feels his already in overdrive heartbeat quicken even more, blood flushing his cheeks so much it leaks down his throat, to his chest.

Spencer would literally kill to have you look at him like this for the rest of his life.

“Holy shit, Spencer”, you repeat, eyes now meeting his, “You’re like- a literal fucking dream. I cannot believe- you’re so beautiful, how are you so beautiful everywhere?”

Spencer whimpers and he needs you to touch him kiss him fuck him anything please now or he will absolutely die from heart palpitations.

Some of his despairing thoughts must’ve come through to you, because the next thing you do is moan, which is the best thing he’s ever heard. Then, you take off your sweater. Second to go is your cropped tank top and you aren’t wearing a bra and good heavens.

Pictures could never compare. Not even Botticelli could’ve adequately committed you to canvas.

Spencer must’ve taken some brain damage from seeing you half naked. He doesn’t remember you taking off the remainder of your clothes, nor does he remember you straddling him again. But, fuck.

Spencer kind of doesn’t use the f-word that often but-

fuckfuckfuckufuckfkcufuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckcufkc-

You’re warm against him, and wet, so freaking wet, and it feels so mind-blowingly good- it’s a miracle he’s still holding on. But-

“Won’t last long”, he gets out, breathy and whiny and just so goddamn fuzzy from pleasure. The world could literally perish right now, and he wouldn’t care. He can’t care, because this is the best thing that ever happened to him and he won’t ever care about anything else ever again other than feeling you, you you you you, against him.

“Spencer, Spencer”, you breathe, gasp, and fuck, the way you keep using his name. “Are you okay? Do you still want this?”

It’s ridiculous you even ask. But the warmth in his chest, the feeling of comfort and safety and ease – because everything with you is so easy, so natural - he feels with the way you look after him-

He feels your thumbs caressing his wet cheeks. You put small, sweet kisses all over his face. Take the time to brush away some of his sweat-sticky hair from his forehead. Place kisses there too. You end with a drawn out, gentle kiss to his lips.

“What do you say, sweetheart?”

There’s really only one way for him to answer that. He trusts you. Plain and simple. There’s no one else he could ever do this with.

“Yes, I want. Please.”

You kiss him again. “So good Spencer, you’re so fucking good to me. I can’t believe you are trusting me with this. You are incredible, angel.”

Spencer doesn’t know how it’s anatomically possible, but he blushes even harder. Also, feels his cock twitch against you because he apparently likes to be called good almost as much as he likes being good. For you. Only you. Jesus Christ.

“Do you have a condom?”, you ask and ah. Well.

“Suitcase”, and wow. First word with more than one syllable since you straddled him the first time. He’s being so brave right now. He deserves a medal. Proof of Being Able to Speak Polysyllabic Words While Getting Fucked (Almost).

There’s humour glistening in your eyes, when you hide a fake gasp behind your hand and say, “Oh my god, Spencer you dog. Can’t believe you planned this entire thing.”

Spencer almost chokes on his own spit. “N-no! I just- uh, like being prepared.”

You grind down a snort, drive your teeth into your lower lip. “In case you accidentally saw your coworker’s nudes and them being down to fuck you about it?"

Oh my god, you’re the most ridiculous person he’s ever met. He can’t stop himself from grinning because seeing you trying to keep your laughter at bay-

“Yes. That.”

“But what if- what if it was Rossi instead of you seeing them? How would’ve your plan worked out then, huh?”, you wheeze, shaking from literal suppressed laughter and Spencer makes a sound like a dying horse.

“Rossi? Rossi?”

“Oh my god, imagine it would’ve been Hotch. He would’ve probably fired me so hard and then called me a week later to disappointed-dad-talk me to come back but to please, refrain from bringing personal files to work in the future.”

Spencer laughs. He’s still rock-hard underneath you, but he’s laughing because that’s what you always do. Being so absurd and silly that he’s shocked to laughter.

He adores you with every fibre of his being.

“What the fuck?”, you ask, incredulous but laughing yourself, “Is my misery amusing to you?”

And Spencer feels like being a little bit of a brat. “Very.”

You flick his nose. Grumble something like I’ll show you misery and then you move your hips against his and Spencer sees stars. Let’s out an embarrassingly high whine.

Ah well. It was still worth it.

“Don’t move”, you order, when you climb down from him to retrieve a condom. Spencer watches you, lets himself look at you. All the times he’s wondered how it would be, how it would feel like, being in this kind of situation with you. He’s never in a million years thought it would feel so familiar. Like you’ve done this before, so many times that it’s just become something normal between you two. He’s actually relaxed. So turned on it feels like he’s going to burst any second, but he’s calm. He feels comfortable, so much so that it doesn’t even matter that it’s the first time he’s doing this and he’s so clueless about all of this.

But he knows, if it’s with you, he never ever has to worry about anything.

“Do you have lube as well?”, you ask, rifling through his suitcase and distracting him from his sappy thoughts.

“Hmm. No, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, angel”, you say while returning to Spencer, and the nickname kind of switches something off again in his brain. Perfect. He’s never going to be able to be normal again about that word.

“We’ll have to get some, for next time. Always feels better with it.”

Spencer hasn’t really registered more than next time next time next time-

He’s pulled out of his daze of knowing your intentions of this not only being a one-off thing, when you straddle him again, a bit lower on his legs. Spencer moans, loud and high, when you grab him by the base and god, fuck, his skin is tingling with anticipation.

With your other hand, you grab the condom and then use your teeth to open the packet, and his cock jumps in your hand. How are you so hot. How does everything you do turn him on so much, what.

He watches you take out the plastic ring as if he’s watching from above, out of his body. He watches as you position the condom over his tip and then pull it down, down and Spencer’s brain must be lagging because he feels everything with at least a two second delay and shit, god, son of a-

“You ready, baby?”

He makes a noise between a sob and a whine. He’s losing his mind. “Please please please-“

“Fuck, Spencer”, you whine, lift yourself up a bit with your legs and then you are sinking down on him, inch by agonizing inch.

It’s so good, it’s so good, you are so warm, so hot, and Spencer can’t stop making noises until your hips are flush to his and he’s inside you.

You let out a loud, drawn-out moan above him. “Fuck, fuck, Spencer. You feel so fucking good, holy shit.”

He feels like he’s one move away from coming. God, oh god, it feels so incredible.

“Can I move? Spencer, please?”, your voice is wrecked, you’re flushed down to your navel, and you’re the best thing he’s ever seen.

“Please please please please”, it’s the only word he remembers how to pronounce.

“Fuck”, you almost sob, lifting yourself almost completely off him. You lower yourself back down again, one swift move, and you both moan.

You pick up the pace a little, fucking him with still languid but purposeful thrusts. Every time his cock sinks back into you, Spencer feels bits and pieces of his sanity crumbling away. He can’t think, can’t speak, his mind so fogged up and fuzzy he’s having troubles remembering who he is. He’s so completely at your mercy he’d let you do anything to him.

That turns him on a worryingly huge amount. List, something about a list somewhere.

“Oh, god, look at you. Spencer, baby, angel. You feel so good inside of me, so good.”

He keens, grabs at your strong thighs bracketing his slim hips. Arches up into you, closerclosercloser-

“You like being good for me, right angel?”, you ask, hips slowing down to a gentle grinding that absolutely drives Spencer insane and he’s too far gone to even nod, “It suits you. Being so wrecked for me, moaning and shaking. God, fuck, you’re divine, Spencer, fuck.”

The pressure behind his cock, low in his stomach, that’s been building all evening, all week, holy shit, it’s too much. Spencer feels delirious, feels your hotness around him, feels your hands pressing his chest down into the bed. He’s going to die it feels so good.

“You going to come for me, Spencer? You gonna be good for me and come inside of me?”

Please please please please- it’s all he can think, all he can feel, because because-

You give a particularly hard thrust and-

Spencer’s coming, moaning and moaning, shaking everywhere. He’s coming and it feels so good, so fucking good. He’s never come so hard in his life before.

He might have blacked out a little. The next time he’s aware of something, it’s you cleaning him with a wet washcloth. Slow, and gentle and Jesus.

“What?”, is the first thing he manages to say, and you snicker beside him. You caress his face, hand running through his hair, down his chest. Peck his lips. You’re both still naked.

“Feeling good?”, you ask and what kind of question even is that. You just fucked the soul from his body, and you ask him-

“I almost died”, he says, tagging your name at the end with an incredulous tint to it.

You snort, setting the washcloth on the nightstand behind you. You lie down close to him, cuddling into his side. “That was the plan.”

“Killing me with sex?”

“Yep. That’s for ogling my nudes without my permission, you creep.”

He says your name again, exasperated but so fucking fond it’s a miracle you’ve never noticed his pining before. You shrug, pull a ‘what can you do face’. Spencer rolls his eyes and then, unceremoniously, flops on top of you.

“Uffff”, you press out. “You’re smothering me, penguin.”

Spencer shrugs and copies the expression you just did. You bark out a laugh.

“Ha! Didn’t know post-sex Spencer is such a cheeky little shit. I’ve created a monster.”

He can’t entirely control his face, some parts of a smile slipping into his features. He does manage to poke out his tongue at you though, before he buries his face in your neck.

Some minutes tick by, you both enjoying the other’s presence and warmth and idleness, before something in his brain-

“Wait-“, Spencer splutters, pushing himself away from you so that he can look at you. “Did you- did you even finish?”

He’s kind of horrified. He was so focused on his pleasure- he- how did he forget? He doesn’t remember you coming and oh no, he’s such an asshole, who doesn’t make sure the other person has come as well and-

“Spencer, Spencer”, you shush him, fingers trailing along his back, and he shivers, eyes rolling back.

“I made myself come right after, don’t worry. You were kind of busy in your post-orgasm, pussy-drunk coma.”

Spencer flushes. “But I wanted to…”

You laugh softly. “You can do whatever to me, next time, sweets. This was about you. We’ll go on a date as soon as we’re back home. Fucking Florida is driving me nuts.”

Oh, he suddenly feels shy. A date? You want to go on a date with him?

“Really?”, he asks, and he hates how insecure he sounds.

You send him an unbelieving look. “Uh, what about the last hour makes you think otherwise? Seriously, Spencer, we need to work on your confidence.”

“Okay”, he mutters, a little bit pout-y and you scoff, pulling him down on top of your chest again.

There, with your hands painting patterns on his back and him completely lost in your warmth and familiarity, Spencer thinks that maybe, Florida isn’t that bad.

--

Bonus

“So, then. Made any scientific discoveries last night, pretty boy?”

Spencer chokes on his coffee.

“What?”

“Nothing”, his ‘friend’ says, smirking and leaning against his table, “You just seem to have figured out that little problem that’s been keeping that pretty head of yours all messed up.”

Spencer feels himself flush. Stupid body and stupid involuntary, physiological reactions. Morgan picks up on it, of course.

“Ohhhhh, want to share with the class what those discoveries were?”

Briefly, so very briefly, Spencer thinks of his self-compiled list but- no no no no.

“Shut up, Morgan.”

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

tags: @sebastiansstanswhore @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @wasitforrevenge @wannabewolf @tommorecommendedfics @winterhi09 @theoraekenslover @chaewondrful @okeyhoezayy @busy-buzzing @laurakirsten0502 @redros3y @trashxqueen @kitty-kei @so-long-daisymay @hayleythecannibal @jsnsnsnszjzj @reeidsluv @kayane28 @moonysreid @desperately-seeking-serotonin @munsonslunchbox @tul1p-mimi @anuttellaa @pinkgomie @elizabethmidnight2017 @evrmorets @cyanidebitsg @bangchansdog @pinterestwhore145 @some-one-yiu-dont-kno @emma-e-a

i hope these work lmao, also let me know if you wanna be on my eternal tag list for any future Spencer fic ;)

[somnoir]

Gotham's newest Crime Lord - part 3

Part 2 | Masterpost

"You know your way around the city." Dan commented, eyes narrowed once he realizes that Kitty and Johnny adapted a little too well to Gotham. Going to places even he didn't know existed, exploring and giving them intel he never realized was relevant. They knew history of Gotham in a way a local would. 

Johnny shrugged, turning back to Kitty who welcomed Ember with a bright smile. The two were squealing, talking about how they were going to help mess with Firefly after burning down a well-loved studio down town. 

For Dan, he wasn't going to intrude too much on his former rogues but... "You're from Gotham. Both of you." 

Johnny twitched, watching as Shadow moved to play with Elle in the air. 

"Yeah, we’re not too sure if our folks are still kickin’, but Kitty and me took off after they flipped over our thing. This place still gives me the heebie-jeebies, but hey, you guys are here. Gotham’s cool these days with all the furries and rogues runnin’ around." Johnny laughed, his cocky nature still burning bright, even when he looked almost melancholic at the memory of this place. 

No ghost was truly comfortable in their hometown, whether they died there or not. This was where they were born, where their lives began. 

"I see..." Dan mumbled, glancing to the space where Danny was usually in. His younger brother was off doing kingly duties again, slumped by work and the Observants pestering him about shit. 

There's a quiet knock on his door and Jeremy was poking his head into the room again. The ghosts didn't even care, continuing to be visible and floating around. Discomfort and a bit of fear was clear on the man's face but he turned to Dante with as much courage as he could muster. 

"Boss, we've got a lead on the missing kids." 

Ah, yes. The recent disappearances of children. He doesn't know where they go, what happens to them. All he knows is that children were picked of the streets and never to be seen again. 

"Someone's been takin' kids?" Kitty grimaced, not minding how Jeremy shuddered. "Dan, dear, darling! Send me and Johnny. We know this city better than Batman and his little birdies."

Again, Dan sighed. "Gimme a minute, Kitty. Not enough information." He grunts, turning to Jeremy to hand him the report. 

"Anything else?"

"Well... About the Bats..."

"They snoopin' around again?" 

"Trynna sniff out Phantom." Jeremy shrugs. "Red Hood's been pretty active. Heard he's been wonderin' about Phantom not visitin' the kids last week." 

"Thanks Jeremy. Tell Marigold I said hi." 

"Will do, boss!" 

Once Jeremy left, the other ghosts were swarming Dan like bees. Their eyes glittering with anticipation, excitement, and vengeance. It felt strange for them to pay attention, to follow him. Danny's always felt like the better leader, struggling and suffering in the role yet rising above it all. That was why he was the king now. 

"Alright, let's get to work. Most of these kids have one thing in common. Their skills. Flexible, acrobatic, and have some sort of combat training. Usually in self defence." Dan plugged in the USB into his laptop, projecting the screen on to the tv. "The latest disappearance is Layla Smithson. Fourteen. Gymnast and was sent to take taekwondo classes by her parents. Before that was Evan Chavez. Another gymnast but was also known to get into multiple fights."

"So whoever is takin' the kiddies, they go after the ones with pretty good skills." Ember hummed, turning to Kitty and then nudging her. "You've got anything to say about that?" 

"Well... Maybe." Johnny shrugs too. 

"Ooh! What about that nursery rhyme every Gothamites gets to listen. Y'know. About the court."

Dan frowned. "What court?" 

"The court of owls!" Kitty grinned, "Beware the Court of Owls, that watches all the time, ruling Gotham from a shadowy perch, behind granite and lime. They watch you at your hearth, they watch you in your bed, speak not a whispered word of them or they'll send the Talon for your head." 

"Who the fuck uses that kind of shit for a nursery rhyme?" Dan scowled, but considered the possibility. "Any idea if they're real."

"Very." Johnny warned, "When Kitty and I died, we came back here a couple of times. Explored the place and tried to dig up secrets that would have killed us if we were livin'. One of 'em was the court. A secret society of a bunch off rich bastards."

"Johnny," Dan warned, knowing that something was still being kept from him. 

"There's another thing..." Johnny hesitated but Kitty took his hand and continued. 

Kitty grimaced, "The Court of Owls has a bunch of soldiers. They got this chemical they use on people, turnin’ ‘em into their own assassins. From what me and Johnny dug up a while back, these assassins were trained when they were kids. They call 'em Talons."

Dan wanted to yell, scream. Burn down the cursed with it's cursed bricks. Fuck. Fuck. Was the world always so shitty? 

"You're telling me... There's an entire secret society that uses chemicals to turn children into assassins?" 

Children.... Fucking children. They were weaponizing kids!

Ancients, he might just commit mass genocide again. 

"Alright. Alright. We leave the living people out of this. The court? Their talons? I want all of you prepared. I'm gonna contact Danny to drag Skulker and Wulf's asses here immediately."

Elle grinned, "GRAB AMORPHO TOO! We're gonna need his help if we want to dismantle the court."

The office is vacated quickly, with Elle dragging Ember and Kitty for girl time and Johnny runs off with shadow. Dan is left alone, frustrated at the new information before he does his best to summon his brother, the very annoyed ghost king that appears before him in full royal regalia. 

"A bit busy, Dan. Still tryin' to fight the laughing magician to help with getting rid of the Anti-Ecto Acts. Constantine is running around trying to destroy the GIW now." 

Dan snorted. He knew about John Constantine. The crazy motherfucker who's soul fragments were scattered around and Danny had to deal with the paperwork and mission to collect them all. 

"I know, yeah, sorry. I get that's important. But we've got a situation here."

"What would that be?"

"Secret society of rich fruitloops that are worse than Vlad. They're kidnapping children and making them into brainless assassins."

Immediately, the room grows colder than the far frozen. Danny's eyes are as green as they could ever be, but his pupils were an icy blue that would have made Frostbite shudder. 

"What do you need?"

"Skulker, Wulf, and Amorpho." 

"I'll send them on your way. They'll be here within 3 hours." Danny sucked in a deep breath, trying to calm himself. "I'll finish up things on my end to help."

"Sure thing, twerp."

"Fuck you." Fondly. 

"Fuck you too." Affectionately.

"OH! Your revenant was looking for you." 

"THE SEXY RED HOOD WAS LOOKING FOR ME?!" 

It was an entire week of silence. Of Wraith not doing anything at all. Even the rogues felt apprehensive to act on anything after Wraith's new subordinates started popping up to pester them. The reports were the same. Distorted footage, meta-human abilities, and a ridiculous amount of chaos. 

Apparently, Two face has waged war on one of them, named Ember. Riddler was also ready to throw hands with Specter. And then Harley and Ivy were hunting down a couple names Kitty and Johnny 13. Why they were named that, none of them knew. But considering Wraith and Phantom's titles, the entire group was Ghost themed. The majority of Gotham have taken to calling them the Ghosts. 

But then...

"Bruce... Get a look at this." Barbara's voice shook, horrified as she stared at the screen. Majority of the family was already in the cave, preparing to patrol once more. But their eyes were drawn to the screen. They all froze, struggling to fathom what the fuck was it they were looking. 

"Holy shit." 

Everyone was frozen, staring at the clear, untampered screen. 

Bruce sucked in a deep breath, reading the bloody message written on the wall of... He couldn't recognize it properly. "Farewell to the Court of Owls that once watched from their shadowy perch. Their talons covered in the blood of children they once purge. Farewell to their judge, the parliament says goodbye. To Talons, to owls, the ghosts says hi." 

And right beside the message was the hanging body of what Bruce recognized was the Judge of the Court of Owls. 

The Court of was in ruins. 

"Holy shit. HOLY SHIT!" Tim screeched, almost stumbling as he stared at the morbid message. "The Wraith and his ghosts took out the fucking court."

There was a loud rev of an engine, momentarily dragging their attention to Jason who was hurriedly getting of his bike and taking of his helmet. "Fuck, you've already seen it."

"You saw it in real life?! Where the fuck is that? The location is distorted but the entire thing is being broadcasted to the entirety of Gotham." 

"There are two of 'em. That one's on the clocktower."

Barbara snapped her head towards him, "MY clocktower?!" 

"Sorry 'bour that Barbie. But it got the job done for them, all of Gotham know about the court now."

Bruce grimaced, "And the other location?" 

"Arkham... The Talon is the one being hanged up there. The message is shorter: Bye-Bye owls. Shouldn't have messed with the dead." Jason clicked his tongue, "That's either about the fact that the court has been messing with the dead or it's cause Wraith's group is called the Ghosts." 

Jason shook his head, knowing for the fact that he'd have to track down Phantom soon. His eyes turned towards Dick, who stared at the screen as if a burden was just freed from him. Jason thinks it has. 

They had found out about the Court a little while ago, then found out about Dick's situation with them. How the circus he grew up in was one of the facilities that groomed Talons. How Dick was supposed to be recruited as one when his parents died. 

"Dick?" Jason murmured, gently taking Dick's hand. The other man jolted, his domino mask hiding whatever emotions there was in his eyes. 

"Little Wing..." 

"C'mon. Let's go grab some of Alfred's cookies. The rest of the family can deal with this." Jason quickly hurried his older brother out the cave, urging him to change our of his suit. 

Dick, once again, feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders, struggled to understand that his nightmare that was the Court was finally dead. Most likely slaughtered by the hands of a new crime lord, a rogue that seemed desperate to keep children safe. He held the tea tightly, closing his eyes as Jason sat opposite to him. 

The court was dead. 

Talon was dead. 

"I'm gonna go look for Phantom in a bit." Jason hummed, trying to appear comforting to Dick. 

And the image of the Judge of the court's body hanging from the clocktower flashes in his head again. 

"Jason." Dick whispered, "Get me a meeting with Wraith."

"What?" Jason blinked, "Dickie, no. Wraith might seem like a pretty nice guy with how he's protecting the kids, but he's still..." He paused, "He's still like me." 

"I need to meet him, Jaybird. I need to confirm that the Court is gone for good. He's the only one who can do that for me." 

"Why would Phantom even let you meet him?"

Dick frowned, sucking in a deep breath before taking Jason's hands. 

"Tell him that Nightwing was supposed to be a Talon."

Part 4 | Masterpost

[lena-thinks-too-much]

It is so, so important to me that people understand that Tim didn't figure out the bats because Dick was a "Show off". Like yes, Dick Grayson is the most flamboyant, dramatic ass man you will ever meet.

But the quadruple somersault? There's no way that was because dick was just showing off. Because you're telling me Bruce Wayne, who's so committed to hiding his identity that he literally acts like a completely different person out of the mask in public just to ward suspicion, would miss the fact that Robin regularly uses the flying Grayson's trademark move? There's literally no way.

In the comics we see Tim explain his deductive process to Dick and Alfred and they're both surprised impressed whatever. We don't see him explain it to Bruce. I think Bruce would be surprised and shocked that a 9 year old was able to put the pieces together but I don't think he'd be surprised that the quadruple somersault gave it away.

So if Bruce was possibly aware of such an obvious give away, why let it continue?

I'll tell you why.

It really comes down to the physics

So Dick was 9 when he started out right? That means the most he'd have likely weighed was 43kgs or roughly 95lbs in freedom units.

But Dick and both of his parents are gymnasts who tend to be smaller. So he was likely less than that.

In physics, rotating objects build up angular momentum (this is how bikes stay up right for example). The more rotation, the more momentum. And objects with less mass build up that momentum much faster than those that are heavier.

Robin constantly has to fight people who are nearly 3 times his size. I teach 8 year olds, they're tiny. A quadruple somersault for a small boy that weighs less than a hundred pounds is a brutal weapon. Especially if you add in the acceleration from gravity as he drops in from above.

And I can guarantee you this logic tracks because Dick literally utilizes this idea, without the somersault, in the 2009 teen titans cartoon.

Yeah, that's right. We're talking about the infamous knee drop.

Like it is borderline savage. Add in a quadruple somersault and the resulting force is nearly fatal. It's likely the main reason Batman would ever allow him to do it with the cape on.

Also, Dick landing feet first on the penguin in the first image probably gave the guy severe back issues

[seumyo]

BAKUGOU KATSUKI ✰ 3:58

No amount of hectic schedules, exhausting patrols, rowdy villains, and never-ending legal paperwork could ever keep Bakugou from attending his daughters’ extracurricular activities—because he’d literally go through literal hell and back than to ever see a disheartened pout along with the silent treatment after he gets home from work.

You think he’ll ever miss any of his daughters’ milestones? Fuck no!

Bakugou insists on being at every event, his phone—and even an actual camera during a good day—in hand, his heart swelling with pride and unconditional love that makes his chest figuratively hurt; it might as well be a medical problem at some point. 

Because, if anything, Bakugou Katsuki is a father first and a hero second.

“Shit, ‘m late. Have they started yet?”

He’s sweating as if he just used his explosions to propel himself in the air to get to you quicker, but, in truth, he sort of had to just run since the traffic on the highway today would’ve only angered and slowed him down. He left patrol to Halfie, who offered to take his shift, knowing how many times Bakugou covered for him when he was in his son’s piano recital.

“They just started doing warmups,” you answer. “Did you run? You’re drenched to the bone; you’re going to catch a cold if you don’t get changed into some dry clothes.”

“Hah, doubt it.” He snorts, though he does appreciate the thought of you bringing him a spare shirt for just-in-case purposes.

You're always the one who thinks ahead, aren't you? Bakugou knows he’s a very lucky man to have such a doting, caring wife that humbles him whenever he gets too focused on his pride. The balance that he didn’t know he needed!

Ignoring the gawking stares of the other parents—because it’s not everyday you see the Pro Hero Dynamight in mundane activities such as watching his kid take gymnastics’ lessons—he looks through the glass in search of his little princess.

Just as he saw her, his lips curled to that oh-so genuine smile, one that just said, “That’s my daughter, right there! Look at how awesome she is!” 

Bakugou remembers how his parents were the same and how they were very supportive of his interests and hobbies, no matter how odd they may be for a five-year-old. How often do you see someone learning to take on both hiking and archery at the age of five? Bakugou was sure he learned most skills during his childhood that made him a firm hero in the field today.

“She has a bit of trouble with tumbling because of her tummy.”

“Yeah? And does that have somethin’ to do with my awesome cooking?” Bakugou replied smugly. “Besides, ‘ts just baby fat, and I’d prefer to see her like this than to see her thin but often sick.”

“Mhm, and she makes up for the cutest ending pose.”

“And her effortless splits. Have the coaches seen her do that?”

You shook your head. “Not yet,” you say, “but I think they’re about to do it—oh! Look, look!”

And he does; his phone’s camera is already recording his youngest daughter doing a perfect vertical split, while the other girls somewhat struggle to maintain a consistent posture. 

“She’s a natural, hun.”

“She is,” you chuckle, “just like her Daddy to a certain extent.”

“Damn right, she is.”

Bakugou tries to hold back his laughter when your daughter once again attempts a forward roll with the guidance of the staff. Her tummy somewhat makes it a bit difficult for her to do so. The way she hesitates but then does the forward roll, albeit a little lopsided with a smile that shows her adorable tooth gap—it was safe to say that your daughter was over the moon with her gymnastics lessons.

It’s all too much for him to take.

And when all is over, he greets his daughter by picking her up and blowing raspberries on her neck that have her squealing in laughter before he insists that he’ll be the one to talk to the coaches about the upcoming schedules and the progress your daughter has made. 

“Mr. Bakugou, she’s a good listener, and I believe that she’ll be moving onto the next class with the older children in no time,” they told him. “Has she received prior training before this one?”

“She’s also taking ballet lessons,” he answers, “but gymnastics is what she really likes. Ballet was just a compromise since your services weren’t available in our area at that time.”

“That’s wonderful to hear. It’s a joy to have her in class. I’ve already sent Dr. [Last Name] the schedules we offered, and we are looking forward to having your daughter in the upcoming lessons.”

The walk back to your car was light and quiet for a change. Your youngest daughter, Kusami, was out like a light in Bakugou’s arms, having worn herself out with socializing, rolling, doing splits, and whatnot the gymnastics’ instructors told her to do. And Bakugou was just letting the simple moment sink in because this is what he considers the most rewarding part of his day. 

Time spent with his family.

Bakugou also warmed up to the thought of having to interact with other parents. He chatted with a single father earlier, whose daughter was the oldest in Kusami’s class. It was nice to converse with equally enthusiastic and supportive parents that you meet through your children's extracurricular activities.

“Let’s go through a drive-through; get Katsumi her usual order,” Bakugou murmurs, remembering how his oldest daughter, Katsumi, would’ve probably woken up from her nap by now and was probably anticipating her family’s return. 

“Alright,” you nod. “Katsumi and Kusami have swimming lessons tomorrow at five in the afternoon, too. Do you think you’d get home that early?”

“Of course,” he answers. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

SEUMYO © 2024, PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[sharlsworld]

⋆⭒˚.⋆ my dawg - ʟɴ4 ☆

✿ lando norris x influencer reader

✿ lando norris is down bad for his girlfriend and he has no shame about it

ᵃᵘᵗʰᵒʳ�� ⁿᵒᵗᵉ ୨୧ this is kinda pt 2 to walk em like a dog

🝮

yn

liked by pierregasly and 1,028,967 others

yn took my dawg out today

landonorris didn’t expect you to become a gymnast in the middle of dinner 😔

⤷ lilymhe HAHAHA

landonorris spit on me your so hot

⤷ yn kinky boy

georgerussell63 Perioddd 💅🏽

⤷ yn ok that’s enough

alexandrasaintmleux I miss you

⤷ yn i miss you more come over i’ll kick lando out

⤷ alexandrasaintmleux Walking to the door right now i’ll be there in 10

⤷ landonorris hello?

⤷ charles_leclerc Guess I’ll see you at the paddock then??

francisca.cgomes let him out the crate for a little bit

⤷ yn yeah he’s been behaving recently

⤷ landonorris 😈😈

oscarpiastri I think you need to take him on more walks he has to much energy

⤷ landonorris i know a way to get rid of energy easily

⤷ yn and back in the crate you go!

🝮

yn

liked by madisonbeer and 2,724,005 others

yn sushi dates with my love 🎀

alexandrasaintmleux My favorite date 🥰

⤷ charles_leclerc Uhm, alright then

landonorris but that’s our thing?? ☹️

⤷ yn you don’t even eat sushi?

⤷ landonorris i still take you out to eat it even though the sight of it makes me gag??

⤷ yn and then you make me brush my teeth before i can kiss you?

⤷ landonorris just say you hate me

⤷ yn i hate you

⤷ landonorris please take me back baby

francisca.cgomes i miss my girls 😣😣

⤷ yn we miss you more!!

alex_albon did lando stay at charles’ 😂

⤷ charles_leclerc Yes and he would not shut up about how he misses y/n

georgerussell63 Me next

⤷ landonorris no go away i’m next

⤷ lilymhe actually i am 🤣

🝮

landonorris

liked by maxverstappen1 and 1,113,562 others

landonorris hopelessy devoted to you ❤️

yn my one love 🤍

⤷ charles_leclerc Hold on…is y/n norris being sweet?? Did someone screenshot this?

⤷ yn did i get married and just don’t remember?

⤷ landonorris yes.

yn can we get a puppy

⤷ landonorris whatever you want baby

⤷ yn 🤍

francisca.cgomes ok, cute

carlossainz55 I remember when you were hopelessly devoted to me.

⤷ landolovesyn LMFAO NOT CARLOS BEING SALTY 😭😭

pierregasly down BAD

lilymhe hm. well, i guess this is cute

alexandrasaintmleux I approve of this post

oscarpiastri WE KNOW

chilipowder55 poor oscar 😭 he’s so done with both of them

flowers444yn all the wags don’t wanna share y/n with her bf 💀

🝮

f1updates

liked by landonorris and 28,001 others

f1updates lando & y/n out in monaco tonight

lordperceval lando’s always in the likes whenever a sighting of them is posted 😭

⤷ georgerussell63 he’s so unserious

⤷ alex_albon GEORGE?!

⤷ charles_leclerc ALEXANDER?!

⤷ maxverstappen1 CHARLES?!

⤷ carlossainz55 MAX?!

⤷ pierregasly CARLOS?!

⤷ oscarpiastri PIERRE?!

⤷ carmenmmundt OSCAR?!

⤷ lilymhe CARMEN?!

⤷ alexandrasaintmleux LILY?!

⤷ francisca.cgomes ALEX?!

⤷ lewishamilton So we all stalk every update about lando and y/n?

⤷ georgerussell63 LEWIS?!?!

sharls_lerklerk why did lewis just expose all of them

🝮

lando.jpg

liked by danielricciardo and 492,705 others

lando.jpg she’s getting it tonight

yn OH OK!! how sweet 😰

⤷ landonorris always for you 😉

yn guys i’m scared

⤷ alexandrasaintmleux i’m omw

alexandrasaintmleux Myyy girl 💘💗💕💓

francisca.cgomes the prettiest girl ever

alexandrasaintmleux so that’s where my dress went

⤷ yn what dress? 😟

maxverstappen1 Hair is on point

charles_leclerc Alright I fw the fit

georgerussell63 Period my queen never lets us down 💅🏽

oscarpiastri Ate down or whatever 💋

danielricciardo Drop the hair care routine girl

lilymhe body is tea 😍

carlossainz55 Slay all day 😻😻

landowonone what is going on 😭

🝮

yn

liked by georgerussell63 and 3,390,781 others

yn alexandra got a puppy, so i made lando get me a puppy too

alexandrasaintmleux Play dates everyday

landonorris 🤍🤍🤍

charles_leclerc Leo and lil Pete are gonna be the best of friends

carlossainz55 So you get him Saturday and Sunday and I get him the rest of the week? 😁

⤷ yn um no ❤️

carmenmmundt How cute 🥹

alex_albon I think he would look cuter with me…in my house…in my arms

⤷ yn i don’t think so

maxfewtrell The chokehold you have on him isn’t okay 😔

⤷ yn neither was the one he had on me last night

⤷ maxfewtrell !?!? 😨

[dancewithdeath11]

His

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Warnings: 18+ Smut, fem receiving oral, intercourse, slight gymnastics but sexy, literally just smut. Short and sweet and I need an actual boyfriend that calls me baby.

Word count: 1.3k

======

He just got out of the shower, still roughed up from patrol but clean. “Baby, c’mon..” Jason murmured as he picked up his helmet to put it away. You glanced up from where you sat on the couch, smirking as you took him in. 

Muscles dripping wet, a towel lazily tied around his hips. As always, you quite shamelessly ogled him. How could you not? He’s over two hundred pounds of muscle, biceps the size of your head, covered in scars. Somehow every imperfection only made him hotter. “How was patrol?” You asked as he took your hand and guided you in front of him. We paused in the hall to put the helmet away in the gear closet where he kept all his gear.

“Fine.” He shook his head, “Missed you.” 

His words tugged at your heart, “How much?” A teasing lit to your tone as you asked. Tilting your head at him. 

A scoff left his lips as he gave a wolfish grin. But he didn’t answer, never one for words. Large calloused hands found your hips, herding you back to the bedroom. A chuckle escaped your lips as your slippered feet shuffled back on the old floorboards. Your chuckle was quickly cut off as he pressed his lips to yours. Feeling your shirt dampen as he pressed against you, getting you wet in more ways than one. Demanding, desperate, needing.. Kisses quickly turning deeper, his tongue seeking entry and not meeting much resistance as you happily gave in. 

His hands skated up to the edge of his tee shirt that you wore, he tugged it over your head leaving you in your panties. An appreciative hum rumbled deep in his chest at the fact you weren’t wearing a bra. “On the bed..” He said, leaving no room for questioning. As you stepped back he took off his towel. As soon as you were laid back against the pillows he crawled over you. A quick kiss to your lips before he trailed down. Leaving a myriad of hickeys along your skin, marking you as his. “Baby..”

“Hmm?” You breathed as he kept going further down, your hands going to his hair as he kissed over your stomach making you squirm at the feeling. 

His hands trailed from your waist to your hips, “Can I?” His fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties. 

“Yeah..” That was all he needed before he tugged them down your legs. Tossing them behind him, his hands quickly finding the backs of your knees as he spread your legs. 

A sharp gasp escaped your lips as he wasted no time. Locking his arms around your plush thighs as he worked his tongue over your pussy. Licking and sucking like it was the only thing that mattered. A high whine left you as he pressed closer, his broad shoulders pushing your thighs further apart. He knew everything you loved. How to drag it out, how to get you off in less than five minutes, how to make you arch and scream like a fucking whore. 

He licked a long stripe with the flat of his tongue, wet and sloppy. From hole to clit till he nipped rudely on your clit making you whimper pathetically. And shit, did Jason drag it out. Switching between licking and sucking until you couldn’t take it anymore. 

“J-Jay, please, your fingers..” You whined out, wanting more friction. You were already so close, teetering on that ledge. But, at this point in your relationship, Jason has trained you to be greedy. Want more.  

But when he pulled away and glared up at you, he just spat out, “Fuck that, you don’t need my fucking fingers to get off..” He grunted at your request like it was almost insulting you’d ask for anything more than his mouth. Like a challenge of his skills. He went back down and sucked on your clit. Not letting up as you tried to push his head away, it was so intense it was making your vision blurry with tears from how overwhelming it was. “C’mon..” He murmured into your pussy.

But it felt so goddamn good. That was all it took for you to tense up, back arching and fingers clawing at the sheets. Falling silent as your face scrunched in pleasure before you fell apart with a harsh moan of, “Oh my god!” Thighs trembling against his arms as you fell back to the sheets. 

“Yeah.. that's what I thought, baby.” He smirked as he moved over you, coming face to face with your blissed-out expression and letting out a little chuckle. “There’s my girl, you ready?” You let out a scoff but smiled at him nonetheless. Jason took your thighs in hand as he sat back on his haunches, draping your legs over his.

“Please..” Was all you murmured. 

And that was his final confirmation. He notched his dick at your entrance before pushing in slowly. Jason let out a huff as his head fell forward, chin dipping to his sternum as his wet hair stuck to his forehead, shrouding his eyes in darkness. You groan out at the stretch of him as he sinks all the way in one go. It stung, but hell- you felt like you were going insane as it balanced that thin line between pleasure and pain. Thighs twitching close around his waist, obviously restricted as Jason now leans over to get a more intimate angle. He’s always such a sucker for watching your expressions as he gets you off. Maybe not in a soft way, but in an overly possessive way. 

He was quick to start up a fast pace. Deep, fast thrusts that bruise your cervix every damn time. Rhythmic banging of the headboard to the wall lets the neighbors know exactly what we’re up to. Not that the wood banging against the wall is the only problem. 

“Oh! Fuck Jay!”

Jason had a wicked smirk on his lips as you let out loud, unabashed moans. He let out a groan as he shifted from being over you, “C’mon..” He huffs as he grabs the back of your thigh, pushing it up before gripping your ankle. Moving your leg up and resting it against his shoulder, wrapping his arm around it to keep you in place. 

You gasped sharply, pawing at the sheets as your mind went blank. Shutting down as your lips part with endless moans and whimpers of his name. Chanting Jason over and over again. Calling desperately for him as it was only him playing on repeat in my mind. Occasionally managing to babble out praises to him. “So, so so good- Jay- ohmygod” He grunts in response, reaching out to press his hand to the headboard.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty, baby..My pretty little slut..” You clenched at his words, letting out a pathetic whimper as you gazed up at him. He only grinned down at you and your wrecked expression. Taking in how he made you lose all self-control. How he could make you react to his words and touch. Thrusting a little harder as he reached down to press his calloused thumb to your slick clit. “Yeah, my slut..say it, baby.”

“‘M your slut-” You managed to choke out. “Oh fuck- ‘m close!”

He nodded and continued to swipe over your sensitive bud, giving several deep thrusts that had your legs quivering. Then it all came crashing down, a sharp gasp leaving your lips before it was all loud moans and calls of his name. He murmurs praises, his hips stuttering as he tilts his head to bite down on your calf. Groaning into your skin as he finishes. Marking you as his in the most primal way possible as he fills you. 

Both of you are panting with a thin sheen of sweat covering your skin. He presses a soft kiss to where he bit down, then another to your ankle before letting your leg down. A little whimper left your lips as the tension left after being stretched for so long. He pulls out with a sigh and leans down close. Jason captures you in a slow tender kiss, communicating exactly what you already know. 

You’re his.

[gabriellessworldd]

Do i make you nervous?

shy, nerdy Armin x bold black fem reader

wc- 1.4k!

☆ warnings ☆: js a lil smth for my armin girlies! very light smut nth too crazy 18+, oral (f receive, you sit on his face 😛), armin is obsessed with you, so when you asked him to be your tutor he thanked his lucky stars.

"Excuse me, Miss L/n, could you stay after class, there's a pressing matter." your chemistry professor Mrs. Clark announced whilst sending you a look after she graded your assignment. "Yea i'll stay." you mumbled opening up your macbook, checking the damage, '13% no. fucking. way.' sure you weren't the best student but it was never this bad.

Class was finally over and honestly you wanted nothing more than to go back to your apartment and take a long ass nap. "Miss L/n, don't keep me waiting! Come here please." honestly you didn't want to hear what she had to say, but if you wanted to pass this class you would have to work your ass off. "Yes ma'am, what's the matter?" you were trying to be polite and sweet so maybe she'd have mercy on you but, that plan didn't work.

After 25 minutes of her lecturing you about your grades, she finally offered some help. "I would suggest you get a tutor, it could give you that extra push you need. Hearing the same stuff from me everyday clearly isn't helping you." She looks at you and shrugs, "You can see yourself out now, enjoy your afternoon." As much as she annoyed you, your professor was right, and you had the perfect tutor in mind.

Armin Arlert. Not only was he smart as fuck but he also had a gorgeous face. It made perfect sense, if that pretty boy had been teaching you chemistry you probably would've had perfect attendance and 100's on all your assignments. You saw him walking off campus and rushed after him, you weren't sure if he would help, but what's the harm in asking?

"Hey Armin!" he turned around looking for who was calling him then he spotted you waving him down. 'is y/n looking for me?' he felt his stomach do an olympic level gymnastic routine (😜) and swallowed the lump in his throat. He was captivated by you, there was just something so perfect about you. The way you laughed, your voice, your beautiful eyes, your entire being had him enthralled.

He walked over to you, "h-hey y/n" he tried not to get too nervous but the small voice crack gave him away. "hi! i was wondering if you could do me a favor?" you batted your eyelashes and smiled brightly. "o-oh! y-yea of course, what's the matter?" he said it almost too quickly, Armin was just glad he could talk to you. You studied his face, it was perfect, the way his glasses sat on his face, the pink tint on his lightly freckled cheeks, even his pink plump lips. 'wait, why is he blushing?' you smiled at the thought, this would be so easy.

"s-so you need m-me to tutor y-you?" he stumbled over his words, an hour and thirty minutes alone with you, luck really was on his side today. "Yup, that's it! Think we could start today?" you checked the time, it was 3:47. "You could come to my house now if you're free! There aren't any distractions and it would be just me nd you!" There was no way Armin was turning this down, "yes that works for me." 'fuck yea i finally made it through a sentence without stuttering' he smiled softly showing his teeth, and your knees nearly buckled.

You opened your door, the scent of vanilla and strawberries clouded Armin. Your place was comfy nd clean, "You can sit at the table over there, I need to shower quickly if you don't mind!" He nodded his head 'i can't believe im in y/n's house right now' he pulled out his textbook nd laptop, not that he would really need it.

"Thank you so much for waiting!" you walked out of your room in your pj's and matching house slippers. "You want anything to drink? I've got dr pepper, pineapple fanta, nd water." Armin watched you walk to the kitchen, your small shorts shrinking with every step, "u-uhm dr pepper is fine. thanks." You sat back down with the two drinks, your boobs bounced slightly in your exposed cheetah print push up bra. you noticed Armin's face heat up and slightly turn pink, you decided to tease him.

you leaned over the table and showing more cleavage and placed your hand on his arm, "Do you mind explaining this to me? I don't get it" Armin tried not to make eye contact with you and took a sip of his drink, but when he finally gave in your seductive eyes almost killed him. He choked on the dr pepper, "um y-yea it's dea-" "Wait.. do i make you nervous?" you cut him off, not caring about chemistry anymore, that assignment could wait.

You scooted closer to Armin and leaned in close to his face, "you're a very pretty boy Armin, did you know that?" You looked at his lips and back at his eyes, "n-no I've ne-never-" You went to kiss him and he immediately took the chance. His soft hands instantly squeezed your tits, and you ran your fingers through his soft blonde hair. The kiss was sweet but it was also passionate, it felt desperate like you both needed more. Armin slid down the straps to your top and bra, freeing your boobs. His soft hands pinched and rolled your nipples, you softly moaned into his mouth and he slipped his tongue in. But he still wanted more.

Armin pulled away from the kiss, face flushed and cheeks red, with a light sheen on his lips from your lip gloss. He lowered his mouth to your right nipple, slipping it in while still playing with the left. Your hands were still tangled in his hair, tugging at his locks. Armin left hickeys all over your chest, wanting to mark you, he needed to know that this wasn't a deluded dream and that you were right there letting him touch you. He looked up at you while sliding your tit out of his mouth with a pop, "c-can we go to your room?" his face was filled with lust, he looked so divine. "of course" you stood up and grabbed his hand, leading him to your room. Armin was anxious obviously, but the was something he needed.

You laid in your bed with your legs propped up on Armin's shoulders as he sloppily ate you out. "Fuck Armin! right there please!" He sucked on your clit, he needed you to cum, he wanted to taste how sweet you were. "o-oh fuck armin, mmhm, right there" He came up, his lips covered in your arousal, " I want you to cum in my mouth y/n." He went back to sucking your clit, you felt a familiar pressure build up in the lower half of your stomach,"a-ah mm armin. That feels soo good!" You could feel yourself about to unravel as he pushed his tongue in and out of your hole. "Cmon y/n, c-cum for me, please." he felt you pulse on his tongue and pull his hair, he started getting sloppier.

Your thighs squeezed his head as you felt your high coming. "ah Armin 'm gonna cum, fuck!" you moaned out as he sucked on your clit, making you throw your head back and squeeze your eyes closed, mouth dangling open. You felt yourself squirt and looked down at Armin watching him lick up everything.

"Can, can you s-sit on my f-face?" He wanted you to say yes, he needed you to say yes. You looked at him puzzled, "You want me, to sit on your face?" "Yes. please y/n." You nodded your head at the blonde, Armin quickly sat down, laying down fully when he saw you stand over him. You straddled his face, not fully sitting down all the way. "Y/n sit down all the way please, I promise I'll be alright." You listened and sat down.

"o-oh fuck armin, oh my god please!" his nose rubbed your sensitive clit as he continued tongue fucking you, his groans vibrated against your core. He loved the way you moaned, it sounded so heavenly, it was his new favorite sound. You needed more, you started to slowly grind on his face, "c-can you go faster y/n please." You picked up the pace, his tongue worked wonders, it was like Armin knew exactly what you liked. "a-ah Armin! 'm too sensitive, gonna cum again" You were on cloud nine, his tongue continued the ravaging pace. "c-cum for me sweetheart." The overstimulation and sloppy licks to your clit drove you over the edge "Fuck! ah Armin!" your vision went clouded as you came down from your high. Armin was satisfied, this was all he needed, to taste every bit of you.

a/n ☆: hiiii my lovebugs!! firstly i js wanna say i'm so grateful for all the interaction with "Never get yo bitch back!" also next part will be coming soon! lmk if y'all wanna get tagged in my future projects!! (y'all like the color switch for different characters or js keep pink?)

-with lots of love, gabrielle <3

[reddtulips]

something something ghoap staying at johnny’s family farm that’s less than two hours away from glasgow.

they barely reach the damn place because simon insists on driving and takes a wrong exit on the highway and johnny has to piss a hundred times during the drive.

the air is crisp and cold and frosts the tips of their noses and simon forces indifference when johnny’s fingers brush simon’s to hold the duffel bag so he can close the trunk of the car.

johnny knocks on the front door and his mother rips it open, hugging his son and without a second to think, hugs simon as well and ushers them inside.

johnny’s father is a simple man and gives simon a firm handshake and a pat on his back and shows him the dining room, a feast set on the table and every salad under the sun overflowing in hand painted bowls that johnny’s mother made when she did pottery ten years ago.

johnny’s sisters are there, his niece and nephews as well, all children and simon sweats thinking how in the hell he is supposed to talk to them. are the boys at the appropriate age to know about guns and knives? or do they look at encyclopedias of greek mythology and dinosaurs? does the niece like barbie and dress up? or is she one of those girls that like to collect bugs and draw hopscotch on the pavement with colorful chalk and wipe the excess from her fingers onto her pants?

they watch him with eager eyes and giggles smothered behind tiny hands, and watch in awe when he lifts his balaclava to expose his mouth so he can eat.

johnny does the talking at the table and simon can’t understand a fucking word he’s saying because he’s gone full scottish with his family, only hums and nods occasionally. he wolfs down every piece of food, the human trashcan that he is (and because he doesn’t remember the last time he had a home-cooked meal), and nearly combusts for a second time that day as johnny’s mam places a plate with a thick slice of apple pie in front of him, vanilla ice cream melting over it and puts a hand on his shoulder, “johnny told me ye have a sweet tooth, so i made it especially for ye.”

simon who does silent breathing exercises so he doesn’t cry because he misses this so fucking much. to sit down with a family and enjoy a meal together with loved ones and not fight, nor scream nor yell nor cry nor throw food nor break plates and it’s just laughter upon laughter upon claps on the shoulders and clutching at arms and pulling each other into side hugs and light jabs that mean nothing and don’t break into full blown fights and simon thinks he’s going to vomit.

simon who gets to see johnny’s childhood bedroom. it’s decorated in superhero posters and hanging medals and trophies from gymnastics and competitive shooting competitions. johnny turns sheepish when simon points them out, teases him and likes and fears the swirl of warmth in his chest when johnny’s ears and neck turn red. he’s told “still a better shot than you,” and if johnny were anyone else, he’s be given toilet cleaning duties for the next three months.

simon who wants to pull out and empty every drawer, check every nook and cranny and learn and suck in every single piece of information and story there is about johnny and what — there’s pictures of you as a kid? with a mohawk? fuck off, soap, lemme see.

johnny opens the left door of his wardrobe and it’s covered in baby pictures of him and his family and simon’s chest tightens but he doesn’t break his gaze. Lo and behold, Johnny points out a picture on top and holy shit, it’s him holding a fat, orange cat the size of half his body and he’s sporting a long mohawk. His cheeks are stained with tears but there’s a forced grin on his face and blood on his chin. johnny explains it was his 7th birthday, he fell off a swing, hit his chin and his mam still wanted a photo. the cat’s named ‘fergus’ and he’s still alive and has lost most of the weight. he explains more photos but simon’s eyes keep coming back to the first one and he just wants to lean down and leave a gentle kiss on the scar covering johnny’s chin.

the kids don’t leave simon alone, as much as uncle johnny protests and tells them to get tae and let ‘em rest, he’s been drivin’ all mornin’ but watches them from the kitchen with a soft smile as simon walks around with the kids hanging and clutching at his strong arms like they’re monkeys and simon can’t get enough of their giggles and ooh’s and ahh’s when he tells them heroic and child-friendly war stories about their uncle. he also tells them that he sucks ass at taking orders and sharing his MREs and that they should listen to their parents and respect their elders and share with each other. johnny smothers a grin behind his hand as simon uses his lieutenant’s voice when speaking to the kids about these things.

johnny steals simon away then, “gotta show ‘em the horses”, and simon keeps his distance and doesn’t dare get up on one of them. the cockiest, “scared, Lt.?” with a shit-eating grin from johnny makes him grab the reigns and climb on. johnny leads the horse down the field and they fall into a comfortable silence. simon can’t get enough of the peace and quiet and chirping of birds and gentle yet chilly breeze on his hands and johnny is suddenly coming to a halt.

simon looks down at his sergeant, and his cheeks are flushed red and there’s determination and well-masked hesitation in his blue eyes and before simon knows it, he’s being pulled down by the sleeve of his jacket and johnny is cupping the sides of his face and pressing a gentle kiss over the material of simon’s mask. it’s innocent, quick, almost like it doesn’t even happen and isn’t registered. but their gazes meet when they part and it’s over for both of them because simon is fervently pushing his mask up and cupping johnny’s cheeks and they’re both leaning forward again and pressing kiss upon kiss upon kiss on each other’s lips and simon finally thinks,

i’ve found it. i’ve found home.

[yourtypicalhuman09]

Beyond The Bat

(Neglected reader x Yandere batfam)

Chapter 1: In The Shadows

TW!!! Cursing !!Dark AU!!

Living in the Wayne manor isn't the sweet luxurious dream you'd think it'd be, reality is in fact much crueler. For as long as I could remember I had lived in this dreary mansion, but lived isn't the word I'd use. I was more trapped here if anything. My "family", if I could even call them that, are well respected people. They're highly skilled and talented people, someone like me could only dream to be like them. I tried so hard to get close to them, I really did try, but no matter what I did nothing worked. I did everything, gymnastics, martial arts, theater, art, music, coding, dance, volleyball, cheerleading, heck I was even in the honors society. Despite being an A+ student and a role model in high society they never once went to any of my recitals, games, or showcases. I went to galas all alone, I had to deal with the sneering faces and snide remarks of high class men and woman alone since I was 8. Not very safe for a child huh? I didn't think so either but my "father" doesn't seem to care.

Nevertheless, I have no choice in this matter and it's not like life here is unbearable. Sure I get beatings and tongue lashings every now and then, but for the most part everyone in the manor tends to forget me eventually and leave me alone. It's pretty isolating but I got used to it, after all I have duties to perform. I have my job as Student council president and I don't intend to slack off. I got that job with my own blood sweat and tears and I will not let all those sleepless nights go to waste. I don't have time to wallow in self pity I have countless of students looking up to me and counting on me to do my job.

"Young master, are you okay? You seem to be staring off into space."

I looked up to our old butler, his face jaded and littered with wrinkles that seemed to contort pathetically in worry. I knew better than to accept his pity. He seems to be a wise gentle man on the outside with his elegant wardrobe, worn old body, and soft spoken demeanor, but do not be fooled. In truth, Alfred Pennyworth was a foolish coward. This was the same man who abandoned his own daughter just like my idiot of a father. I gave him a chance, but nothing's been the same since the day he accidentally called me Julia. I was nothing but a stand in for him, someone to relieve his guilt with.

"I'm fine. Don't you have something better to do? I'm sure Bruce has some kind of task for you, no need to bother yourself with my problems"

"...Very well then...Take care of yourself young master."

He clearly had something more to say but he decided to do nothing and walk away. Like I said he's a coward. Still I'm not new to disappointment, whether it's the disappointment of missed birthdays or the way they all see me as the disappointment, it's nothing I haven't experienced before. I quickly packed up my things and headed to school. Sure riding to school on an old worn out bike isn't exactly ideal, but I have to deal with what I have. Although, I do have to take some back alleys to school since I don't want anyone seeing and starting a scandal. I can already see the blaring headlines, "Daughter of Gotham's richest man caught riding to school on a beat up bicycle!". What a bunch of nosy bastards.

"Good mornin' (Y/N)!"

I turned to face the sunny senior calling my name, his unadulterated joy making him stand out in the crowd of groggy gothamites.

"Good morning Cyrus."

My crisp responses never seems to deter the boy as he continues to walk beside me chattering endlessly.

"(Y/N) I got things you asked! It's super cool what you're doing for the school, I'm so happy I get to be apart of it! If you ever need help with anything please do ask me!"

I sighed, his joyful energy was contagious. I couldn't help but crack a smile. Though it quickly disappeared as I regained my composure, but obviously not fast enough since Cyrus' joy seems to only be growing.

"Ahhhhh (Y/N) just smiled! I made the student president smile! I'm so sigma"

Here he goes again with those weird words and that cocky grin. I sighed once again, I'm too tired for this.

"Yes thank you Cyrus get to class now, I'll pick up the things I asked for after school."

"Yes ma'am!"

I watched as he playfully saluted and ran to class almost bumping into several people along the way. I facepalmed, he was such a handful but strangely I don't really mind. It's probably the lack of sleep I'll make sure to go to bed early today, for now I have to get to class myself.

Author's note: Omg chapter one is finally out! This took me a lot longer than expected but I hope it's good I went through a tiny writer's block😅. I hope you guys like Cyrus I tried to make him a silly and sunny character but trust me he'll have lore and be a much deeper character. I also tried making (Y/N)'s backstory pretty vague since they're the narrator and I figured they wouldn't like talking about it, but their lore will be revealed more throughout future chapters. Anyways as always thank you all for reading and have a good day/night!

Credits to khaer for the dividers

@simpingpandas @rosalietodd013 @sirenetheblogger @cim0nnin @00hellohello00 @crazycaoticsimp @lovebug-apple @youdontknowshtaboutfk

[gaywineauntsstuff]

Listen the ‘Bruce brought dick in to stop him killing Zucco” is fun

You know what’s more fun

The fact that Dick Grayson is the fundamental opposite of Jokers one bad day

Because he was 9 and insane

Jokers “all it takes is one bad day” meet Dick Grayson also terminally insane but in the opposite direction.

(“I had a bad day not a fan, it’s illegal now”

“Chum murder is already illegal”

“Yeah in the eyes of the law, but who follows that! I’ve decided it’s illegal for people to have bad days”

“You have to follow laws Dick. You have to”

“Says the man getting shot at by the cops bc he dresses as a giant bat monster and fights crime using ancient martial arts”

“Hnnng”

“Anyway it’s illegal now, people suffering I have decided and I’m adorable so what I say goes!”

Bruce pinching bridge of nose “Dick you can’t save everyone and change every person you meets life”

“How about! No!”

“Di-“

“Great talk Bruce! Bye bye now!”)

Like when I say Dick Grayson was the crazy Robin I don’t mean he was aggressive or cruel

No I mean this man would not be out of place in Lewis Carol’s Alice in wonderland.

He’d see all the insane shit in Gotham and go ‘that makes perfect sense’ and continue on his merry way

Like he’s the type of kid who when he’s mad at Bruce for sidelining him on a fight against the joker (and making him fight Harley)

Will pull out a chessboard, grab Harley Quinn and go “I win, you get arkhamed you win we fight”

“Kid-“

“I have a gymnastics competition coming up and I wanna show up this douche in my class- you are not breaking my legs before then. Sit down. Play chess”

“Shit kid why didncha say so”

Why does he wanna fight the Joker who will objectively injure him far more throughly

“Well it’s simple math, I grew up in a circus, I like clowns, he is the biggest disgrace to clownery I’ve ever seen bet he didn’t even go to clown college. Doesn’t even have any iconic makeup, he just has toxic waste skin?? Like not even eye makeup or a red nose?? If you wanna do thematic crime do it right? Anyway it’s my legal obligation to try at any given moment to reck the embarrassment to all things goofy and funs shit.”

—————

Bruce looking for his 9 year old ward who was kidnapped as Robin

Dick hanging upside down on semi sentient vine gesturing wildly at poison Ivy who is nodding empathically

“And the water here is not normal!! Like how do you grow plants! I used to have to take care of plants all the time and now if I water them they rot! Like right in front of me!!? And I feel so bad but?? It’s water?? Please drink it?? Mr plant”

“Oh yeah it’s because of all the toxic ace chemicals in the water, you have to triple filter it. Honestly Robin I’m disappointed, your plants should be drinking the same water as you”

“ they do tho!”

“You…drink… Gotham tap water? Batman lets you drink Gotham tap water?”

“Well no… he always tells me to use the filter but I like the tap water!! Sometimes it’s fun colors and spicy”

“oh… oh that explains so much about you..”

“No he just came like that.”

“Oh HI B I was asking miss Dr.ivy why my plants keep dying”

“Robin don’t consort with villains”

“Miss Dr. Ivy you’re a doctor right”

Poison Ivy who is violently amused “PHD not MD but yeah I am”

“So you’re smart”

“Yeasss”

“Cool!…. What does consort mean?”

————-

Annoys the riddler by going with the most out of pocket technically true answer

Think “a sparrow with a shotgun”

———-

Makes the Jokers goons laugh, louder than the joker. Even while under threats of death by sufficiently wacky murder plot

———-

[hwanghyunjinenthusiast]

Catalyst

AN: The Joshua brainrot has been at an all time high and the most recent concept photos of him didn't help.

Synopsis: A trip to your brother and niece's brings feelings your husband has been shoving down for months to the surface.

General tags and warnings: Joshua Hong x Fem! Reader, they're married, sibling bantering, mentions of food, implications of strained familial relationships, Josh being a horrible communicator, Reader is shorter than Josh, Reader has hair Josh can pull on and porn with a smidge of plot.

Smut tags and warnings: Hard Dom! Joshua, sub! Reader mention of past oral sex (m. receiving), petnames, heavy breeding kink, dirty talk, hair pulling (f. receiving), praise, breast and nipple play (f. receiving), biting (f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), bit of a humiliation kink, degradation (f. receiving), edging (f. receiving), dacryphilia, piv sex without a condom and creampie.

Word count: 7.3k.

I will block you if you are a minor and/or have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.

The drive to your brother's place feels like it takes a century. In reality, you're sure it's closer to thirty minutes but, you can't help the way you fidget with your wedding ring in the passenger seat with each minute that agonisingly ticks by. 

“We're almost there,” Joshua says even though you hadn't asked him how long it's  going to be in almost ten minutes and the laugh he's failing to hold back warms your face and puts you on the defensive. 

“I didn't even say anything!” you cry a touch too dramatically but, you know he loves you for your affinity for the theatrics anyway, “I was just sitting here,” you huff, taking a sip of the smoothie you picked up from the restaurant at the hotel the two of you are staying at since you didn't have breakfast. Because a certain someone wouldn't let you get out of bed long enough to grab yourself something to eat.

You try not to think too hard about said morning because you'll be seeing your family in less than fifteen minutes and thinking about how your husband made you choke on his cock is deeply inappropriate. 

“You're sitting there very loudly,” he says with an amused tinge to his voice as he takes a left turn, a smile softening his face and crinkling his eyes and, frankly, doing horribly things to your heart. You'd think after being with him for four years and married for one, your heart would stop performing an entire gymnastics routine every time he so much as looks at you but, here you are. 

“I'm just excited. I haven't seen Aaron and Julie in months,” you sigh, sagging into your seat and taking a generous sip of your smoothie because wow are you hungrier than you realised and you know your brother isn't the world's greatest cook. 

His face softens considerably and, if he wasn't driving (rather attractively might you add), you'd reach over and kiss his cute face. “I know, baby,” he says gently, reaching over and lacing his fingers with your unoccupied hand. The squeeze he gives you makes you smile and you're sure you're looking at him like he's the best thing in the world. Which isn't totally untrue though your niece would give him a considerable run for his money. 

“I'm sure they've missed you too,” he says, taking another familiar turn until you see a home you would recognise no matter where you were in the world. 

“I think you're right,” you say with a laugh when you spot Aaron holding Julie as he waves at you excitedly. The scene is absolutely ridiculous and you wonder how long he's been standing out here with her since you sent him the text that you and Joshua were on your way. It prompts affection to bloom to life in your chest nonetheless. 

The time flies by and before you know it you're practically sprinting out of your car to hug your brother and kiss your niece's adorable face. “I still can't believe you managed to have such a cute baby,” are the first words out of your mouth and you laugh at the disgruntled look that overtakes Aaron's face as he hands his daughter to you. In the back of your mind, you were worried that she'd forgotten who you were but, her small, gleeful noises and giggles let you know she's at the very least happy to see you even if she doesn't exactly know who you are. And that's more than enough for you. 

“Yeah, well we all know I got the good genes which is why I have the cutest daughter in the world,” he says, puffing his chest out proudly and grinning when his daughter smiles at him. Julie's arrival was definitely an…unexpected one but, Aaron stepped up all the same. The thought of him being a father even three years ago sounded insane but, looking at the man in front of you, you think fatherhood suits him well. 

“Oh please,” you scoff when Joshua finally joins the three of you after parking the car, “We'll see who really got the good genes when I have babies of my own,” you snark back, adjusting Julie on your hip. 

“What is this I'm hearing about babies?” Joshua asks with a laugh, greeting your brother who readily hugs him and flashes a friendly smile at your husband. 

“Nothing,” you snort, “Just some good, old-fashioned sibling bantering and, my dearest brother over here denying reality.”

You bite back a smile when Aaoron shoots you a fiery scowl that would terrify most people but, you've had decades to grow accustomed to him breaking it out. 

“Ah, the usual then,” Joshua replies, pointedly ignoring Aaron's betrayed ‘hey!’ in favour of softening his expression to say hi to Julie. 

“You know, I was just starting to like you,” Aaron says, voice dripping with faux hurt as he points an accusatory finger at Joshua who is far more interested in drawing one of those heartstopping smiles from the little girl resting on your hip. 

“Why do you have to lie? Like you weren't tripping over yourself when I first brought him over because you were so excited about having another guy to do “guy stuff with” in the family,” you retort with a raise of your eyebrow. Joshua opts not to get involved though you do hear his barely contained snicker as Aaron falters for an argument. 

“Anyway, why are we still outside? Is this how you treat your guests? Maybe invite us inside, Aaron.” His responding eyeroll takes you back and, it really hits you in moments like these just how long it's been since the two of you have had the opportunity to carve out the time to catch up. 

Thankfully, Aaron decides to just order lunch for everyone instead of subjecting you and Joshua to more of his catastrophes in the kitchen. You just hope baby food isn't too much of a challenge for him because you worry for your poor niece sometimes.

He picks Indian food, much to your surprise since your brother is horrible with spices. “The last time you were here, you were obsessed with that one Indian place a couple of streets down,” is all he offers in explanation as you help him unpack the food while Joshua plays with Julie on the living room floor. Affection warms you to the very tips of your fingers and you're sure you look like an absolute sap as he hands you the large stack of naan bread. 

“I love you,” is all you say in response because you do and it's been painfully long since you've last told him that in person. 

His laugh is surprised but, no less boisterous, “All that over food? Man, if I knew that's all it took to get an ‘I love you’ from you, I would have bribed you with food when we were children,” he jokes but, the fondness in his eyes betrays him. 

“You act like I'm not the one regularly saying ‘I love you’ between the two of us to begin with,” you retort, grabbing a few plates and setting them down on his dining table. 

“Whatever,” he huffs, “Josh, grab Julie and come have a seat. I have some soft carrots and peas, I'll warm up for her while the two of you dig in.” Joshua follows accordingly swooping the little girl in his arms dramatically and smiling when she giggles at the motion. Small hands clutching his hoodie. The sight prompts a combination of love, endearment and another emotion you can't quite put your finger on to stir within you. 

The two smile at each other all the way to the dining table where he carefully places her in her high chair. When his eyes meet yours, they're filled with far too many feelings for you to even hope to name right now. 

Lunch goes off without much of a hitch. The hours tick by quicker than you anticipate. Aaron tells you story after story about his construction job and his apparent imbecile of a boss that he's three seconds away from throttling on a given day. Julie doesn't cause too much of a fuss (she really might be the most well behaved one year old you've ever met in your life), even when Aaron tries to coax her into eating peas which she is not a fan of. 

“Let me try,” you offer eagerly and he lets you readily. With the right amount of cooing and high pitched talks of the food airplane, Julie gleefully lets you feed her the peas. The methods you used cutting the time it took Aaron to feed her in half and you try not to look too smug about it. Though his bitter ‘shut up’ tells you that you do a horrible job. Joshua, for his part, watches the entire exchange between you and your niece relatively silently aside from a few encouragements of his own directed towards her. He's still silent as you cover her entire face in kisses and praise her for eating her peas. 

You'd consider yourself great at reading your husband in most instances but, as you sit back in your chair and meet his eyes across from you, his entire expression is unreadable in a way that is reminiscent of the time where the two of you barely knew each other. 

Your stomach twists unpleasantly. 

The rest of your afternoon catching up with Aaron carries on uneventfully. It all comes to an end when Julie, rather loudly, makes it known that it's time for you and Joshua to make yourselves scarce with a yawn. 

“You heard her, get out,” Aaron jokes, scooping up the girl who can barely keep her eyes open and letting her rest on his shoulder. 

“You should be nicer to your guests, you know,” Joshua says as your brother walks the two of you to the door. A smile spreads across your face because you know a couple of years ago he would have never dared to speak to Aaron that way but, the two had gotten significantly friendlier thanks to your (what you would consider gentle) encouragement. 

“Calling you two guests is generous,” Aaron responds, doing his best to unlock the door with a slumbering toddler occupying his arm. “On a serious note, thanks for swinging by. I know work's been hell for both of you lately so, it means a lot,” it's rare seeing your brother be any amount of serious and sincere and, it always throws you for a loop momentarily. 

“Yeah, of course, man. We've both missed you and Julie tonnes. Your sister here was practically bouncing with excitement the entire drive here,” Joshua responds before you can search for something to say. He and Aaron laugh at your sputtering reaction. 

“Can't believe you'd throw me under the bus like that,” you say, shooting your husband a scowl that is nowhere near as intimidating as your brother's, “Anyway, we'll see you on Friday. Good luck with seeing mum tomorrow.” 

“Thanks,” he says with a long-suffering sigh, “I'll need it.” 

The three (four? Does a sleeping Julie really even count?) of you exchange some hugs before you answer Joshua are making your way to your rental car. 

The drive back to the hotel is…odd. The moment the two of you slip into your seats and buckle your seatbelts, the air in the car feels heavy for whatever reason and Joshua is noticeably quieter than he was minutes ago. 

It's jarring. 

“Hey Joshie, is everything okay?” You ask him after minutes of torturous silence. Hoping the usage of his favourite nickname will help defuse the tension. 

“Hmm? Oh, yeah. I'm fine,” he responds, his forced attempt at sounding relaxed clear to your ears. 

What is going on? Did something happen back at Aaron's? He was happily interacting with Julie and making heaps of jokes with your brother. The three of you were barely apart so, you're sure if something happened between him and Aaron you would have either noticed it or picked up on it. 

The weird tension remains between the two of you the entire drive to the hotel. Joshua not attempting to make conversation or supply an explanation for his drastic mood change. Once it lasts all the way until the two of you are back in your hotel room, you know you can't deal with not knowing what's wrong. 

“Hey, did something happen at Aaron's?” You ask him as soon as he shuts the hotel door behind him. Your hands anxiously clench and unclench at your sides as you examine your husband's carefully reserved expression. Your heart drops to the gaudy carpet beneath your feet. 

“No, nothing happened,” he says as though he doesn't notice the blanket of tension enveloping both of you, “Why do you ask?” 

Why do you ask!? 

You can only stare at him with a mixture of disbelief and incredulity as he walks towards the kitchen of the hotel room. His tone is light and you can hear his attempts to sweep this under the rug. 

He must know the woman he married because there's no way you're about to let this odd, unexplained behaviour from him slide. 

“Joshua, look, I'm not trying to be pushy but, you're being very weird right now and it's kinda freaking me out. And I'd really like to know what's caused all of this,” you gesture between the two of you, “If you like need space, that's okay but, at least tell me that or just tell me something,” you rush out, watching his back tense underneath his hoodie as his steps halt. 

Silence fills the hotel room for what feels like forever, only adding to the anxiety coursing through you. When he finally turns to face you, thankfully, his face isn't as impenetrable as it was a couple of minutes ago but, the emotions you manage to catch do leave you a little surprised and thrown off. 

“Julie is really cute and you're really good with her,” are the first words he says and you're even more confused than you have been since the two of you got into the rental car to leave Aaron's. 

“Um yeah?” You say but, the questioning tilt to your voice is apparent because what is even going on right now? “Is that…a problem? Did Aaron say something?” 

The sigh that escapes his mouth is drawn out and frustrated and, for a horrifying second, you're worried something did happen between your husband and your brother that you didn't notice. 

“I think seeing the two of you together, how you interact with her, made me come to a lot of important realisations today,” he explains, his words are heavy and his eyes reflect an intensity that leaves you a little breathless. 

All you can do is blink at him, your brain attempting to understand what he's telling you. “What realisations did you come to?” You ask softly but, you know he heard you clearly. The strides he takes towards you are quick and, if you didn't know any better, you'd miss the quiet frenzy in his movements. 

Joshua is a controlled man. He always has been and, you strongly doubt that's an aspect of his personality that will ever change. Even in moments where people see him act more carefree and what they would consider to be impulsively, you know better. Everything is calculated and meticulously thought out by him. 

So, when he tilts your head upwards and descends his mouth onto yours, despite the nerves you can feel rolling off of him, you know that it's a very intentional move from him. And honestly, if you still didn't have a myriad of questions buzzing around in your skull, you'd happily allow yourself to melt against his talented mouth and sturdy body. 

However, you can't stop until you get to the bottom of this. 

“Joshu–”

“I want to have a baby.” 

All of your thoughts halt in your head and all you hear is one, long record scratch. It would be comical if it weren't for your husband just dropping that he wants to have a baby with you on you. Joshua watches you carefully but, all you can do is blink up at him owlishly because your husband just told you that he wants a baby with you. 

“Wha–What?” Is all you can splutter.  

“We have talked about it,” which is true. It's one of the major conversations the two of you had when you first started dating and you were on the same page, “And you're really good with Julie. She practically lights up around you,” he sighs dreamily, resting his forehead against yours, “and you should see yourself when you're around her. It's like…magic.” 

You think it's fundamentally unfair how quickly he's getting you onboard with this idea. 

A shudder runs through your body and anticipation replaces anxiety when he places his hands on your hips and tugs you impossibly close to him, “We could have that. For ourselves,” he mutters, kissing your forehead then your cheek then the cut of your jaw. Everything feels a little turned upside down right now and all your increasingly foggy brain can think to do is grab his hoodie in an attempt to make sense of what's happening. 

“I'd love to watch you be a mum,” he sighs with that same dreamy edge to his voice and you honestly think you might melt on this shitty hotel carpet, “I think–no, I know you'd be great at it.” 

“I think I'd be a decent dad,” he says with a laugh that's too self-deprecating for your liking. 

“You'd be a fantastic dad, Joshua,” you argue with a frown, cupping his face in your hands to ensure he knows you mean it. Because it's simply true in the same way that you know the sky is blue and that grass is green. The past hour may have been a whirlwind but, you'll be damned if you let him talk badly about himself. 

“We could always test it out instead of talking about hypotheticals,” he says and the soft expression colouring his face shifts to a more lecherous one. The sounds of your blood rushing through your veins and your heart thundering in your chest are all you hear for a second. 

“I'm still on the pill,” you blurt out and it just darkens the look on his face further. 

“Well, we'll just have to see how good it is then,” are his last words before he escapes your hold and crashes his lips against yours. It's a completely insane statement and, you both know it. Your birth control pills have proven to be extremely reliable since the two you decided to do away with condoms years ago. However, based on the way he's kissing and the way his fingers dig into your hips through the fabric of your dress, you doubt Joshua is operating on much rational thought at the moment. 

Joshua doesn't give you much time to breathe, let alone think. You move totally by instinct. Clutching at his broad shoulders while his hands drag themselves along your hips, squeezing them occasionally in a pattern only he recognises. 

“Have I ever told you how sexy your hips are?” He pants against your mouth, punctuating his query with a harsh squeeze and a grind of his gradually hardened cock against your stomach. 

“I– um, probably yeah,” you breathe once you manage to catch your breath. A relief that is short lived as Joshua drags his mouth from yours to dot kisses along your cheek until his full lips make contact with your jaw. The tease of his teeth pull quiet gasps from your lips and fuel the increasing wetness between your shaky thighs. 

“Probably, huh?” He muses into your skin, pushing you backwards to the bedroom, an action you dazedly follow along with because it's really difficult to think of anything but, him and the fact that he wants to have a baby with you right now. 

“I need to do a better job of driving that fact home.” 

You nearly trip once you cross the threshold of the bedroom door but, Joshua is there to steady you. Or, rather, press your body into his while he makes love to your throat and impatiently shuffles the both of you to the massive bed. 

Every brush of his lips and tongue on your neck sets your skin ablaze. Years of exploring and memorising your body have made it extraordinarily easy for him to know exactly what causes your clit to pulse and arousal to soak through the flimsy panties you hurriedly put on hours ago. 

One of his large hands weaves its way into your hair and a high pitched mix of a moan and a gasp fills the room when he tugs on it harshly. Your lidded eyes meet his and your tongue feels like it weighs a million tonnes reading all the emotions that swim in them. 

His mouth descends on yours while his other hand impatiently tugs on the zipper of your dress. Distantly, you're worried he'll break something with how hard he's pulling on it but, the thought vanishes into smoke when his tongue licks into your mouth and forces you not to think about anything that isn't him and feeling his cock twitch inside of your fluttering pussy. 

The straps slip from your shoulders and a whine sounding not dissimilar to a wounded animal falls from your lips when he steps away from you. Blinking your eyes open, you're met with an amused and lustful Joshua who takes a second to admire your scantily clad figure as your dress pools around you. 

“So needy,” he tuts, like you can't see his cock straining in his shorts and the way his pupils are totally blown out, “Won't even let me appreciate my gorgeous wife,” he sighs while stepping back towards you. The endearment softens you but, it doesn't dull the roaring in the core of your being. If anything, it has the opposite effect. 

It's always made you feel…a lot whenever he specifically refers to you as ‘my wife.’ You're sure he's picked up on the way it impacts you and, being the menace your husband is, he's grown especially fond of letting it slip out when he's moments away from nestling himself between your thighs or when he's already kissing your cervix. 

“I can't help it,” you reply, the whiney edge making him smirk in a way that's equal parts evil and attractive. Sometimes, you really can't stand him. 

“Poor baby,” he coos without an ounce of sincerity, stepping towards you. Anticipation sits in the pit of your stomach and, you happily let him lay you down on the bed, watching him with baited breath as he savors the sight of you. 

His kisses are more biting. The sensual movements of his lips and tongue replaced by teeth and spit and messiness that make your head spin. His stupidly large hands waste no time in unclasping your bra and throwing it somewhere to be forgotten on the hotel floor. 

“Fuck,” the rasped curse is uttered into your bruised mouth as his hands grope your tits in them, kneading them and thumbing your hardened nipples while you squirm underneath him. 

“Prettiest tits in the fucking world,” he groans like hasn't seen and touched them a million times, revelling in the way the mounds mold to his ministrations and the way your body arches every time he so much as brushes one of your overly sensitive nipples. 

“Can't wait to see how they fill with milk one day,” the confessions pulls a startled gasp from the depths of your chest but, he doesn't give you much time to dwell on it as he kisses down your neck, gracing it with a few nips until he reaches his destination. 

The moment his teeth sink into your flesh, stars dance behind your eyes and you have no choice but, to shut them. The sting shoots straight to the apex of your thighs, adding to the sticky mess between them while your hands move completely on autopilot to play with his soft locks while he savors every bit of you he can with his mouth. 

The bites and nips he litters your tits with fuel the foggy state of your already muddled mind. All you can think about is him and his fucking mouth and the cock you know is leaking in his shorts while he watches you shudder and rut against him every time he bites especially hard.

The stars behind your eyes explode when his mouth envelopes one of your nipples with his scorching mouth while the other is pinched and tugged on by his thick fingers. Joshua is content to watch you grow increasingly fucked out with his mouth alone for now. Normally, he'd give you a little more grief for closing your eyes but, he's in a generous mood today. 

Plus, your perfect tits are in his mouth and hands so, he can't be too upset. 

You can feel him grin into your skin when your entire body jolts as he grazes his teeth along your nipple. Typically warm eyes flashing with every miniscule movement and shuddering noise that passes from your thoroughly kissed lips. The pain from his blunt fingernails pressing into your skin is disorientating in the best way and, fuck, are you beyond wet right now. 

A mix of disappointment and relief wash over you when he frees your nipple with an obscenely loud pop. Your eyes flutter open to watch him as he kisses your tits one last time before descending down your body. Your blood turns molten in your veins with every kiss and light nip he provides your stomach and hips, his intimidating gaze never faltering until he reaches the waistband of your panties.

With faux curiosity, he presses two fingers experimentally into you, watching the way your panties stick to you and your thighs quiver around him. 

“Guess you're more into this whole baby idea than you let on,” he muses, swapping his fingers for his thumb and rubbing random patterns against your clit. The pressure is dizzying. Your head snapping back and a drawn out whimper of his name piercing through the hotel bedroom. A few presses from his thumb is all it takes for your thighs to threaten to shut but, you know better. 

“Please, Joshie, I'm–” any further, breathless rambling is cut off by a moan as he presses his thumb more harshly into your swollen clit, his weighted gaze drinking in the way you further ruin your pretty panties and soil his thumb. 

“Please what?” He asks, glancing up at you with a facade of reservation before his ravenous eyes focus their attention back on toying with your beautiful pussy and making a mess out of you.

All he does is laugh at the frustrated huff you let out before removing his hand from your ruined panties. 

“No!” you gasp desperately, shooting a wide eyed, betrayed look at him, “Wh–Why?” 

“You know better, sweetheart,” he coos condescendingly, the tone not helping the incessant throbbing of your clit, “Good girls don't complain. Good girls use their words to say what they want.” 

All your horny brain can cling to is the desire to cum and be his good girl. Thankfully, you still have enough executive functioning to articulate yourself and your wants. Well, at least somewhat. 

“Joshie, I wanna cum. Please. Wanna be good and cum on your fingers,” you whine, tilting your hips up towards him and hoping you provide tantalising enough of a sight for your husband to just give you want. 

Based on the way his tongue runs along his bottom lip and his eyes flash, you've at least chipped away at his resolve somewhat. 

“Good girl,” he praises, “See? That wasn't so hard,” he tuts, grasping the bottom of his hoodie and tugging it off. Your lips part and your pussy clenches when his bare chest is exposed to you. If you weren't so focused on watching the way his muscles flex and contort with his every move, you'd notice the combination of smugness and amusement on his face. 

Blinking up at him in a daze, you wonder when he moved but, his mouth descending on yours intensely coupled with the way one of his hands cups you over your ruined panties evaporates the thought. You're just happy he's touching you at all. 

Joshua swallows your stuttered gasp greedily. Rutting against your thigh as his fingers drag your panties to the side and he shoves three of them into you without much resistance. It's hard to tell who moans louder at the intrusion (probably you, if you're being honest). He knows you can take it. You can take much more but, the stretch of his long, thick fingers is disorientating after what feels like hours of being wet for him. 

“Josh–Joshie,” you pant against his mouth, your eyes rolling into the back of your head when he fucks you on his fingers without abandon. No buildup. No teasing. Simply, brutally curling his fingers against the spots inside you he knows will have your toes curling and an entire galaxy dancing beneath your barely open eyes. 

“Hear that?” He asks between ragged breaths into your ear, timing his question with his fingers pushing back into and the lewd squelch reaching your ears and warming your face considerably. It's not that you necessarily feel embarrassed about how much you want Joshua but, hearing the evidence is an entirely different story. 

“Hear how wet your pretty pussy gets for me?” He practically moans into your ear and combined with the way his fingers drag along your wet walls, god, it's a lot. All you can do is squeeze your eyes shut and whimper out what you hope sounds like a confirmation to his ears. 

The tension in the pit of your stomach grows tenfold when he nips at your earlobe and introduces his thumb into the mess between your thighs. Moving completely on instinct, your hands desperately clutch at his forearm when he presses his thumb to your clit and draws an array of patterns that only make sense to him into it. “Fuck,” he hisses into your skin as his fingers don't falter in the slightest, drawing the most wanton sounds from you, “It's fucking crazy how wet you get. Gushing all over my hand and the poor sheets. What do you think the staff will think when they notice how soaked the sheets are? Think they'll wonder just how slutty of a pussy Mrs. Hong has?” 

The edges of your vision blur and your mouth hangs open letting out whimpers that increase in volume. Your orgasm is so close that you can practically taste it on the very tip of your tongue. Joshua doesn't seem all that bothered with the way your nails bite into his skin as he continues to bring you closer and closer to the precipice with every curl of his fingers and press of his thumb. 

Until he stops and pulls his hand away from your pussy. 

“Wha–”you gasp at him in confusion and frustration, your hips completely moving on their own in search of any friction to soothe your painfully throbbing clit and walls that clench and unclench harshly around a sudden nothingness. Blinking up at him through bleary eyes, the look on his face drags a whine out of you. A whine that only really makes the corners of his mouth tug upwards further. 

“Come on baby,” he coos, kissing your neck and running his fingers along your sticky folds. He's barely doing anything but, the brush of his fingers against your clit coupled with the faintest bit of friction have you reeling and grabbing at him again as weak moans fill the space between the two of you. 

“You know how much I love playing with you,” he tuts, using those same fingers to add pressure to your clit and nearly send your thighs snapping shut around his arm. The sensation sends your head lolling backwards, giving Joshua ample skin to bite while he works you up to a frenzy. Again.

“It's no fun if you just get to cum so easily,” he mutters, his smirk burning itself into your skin while you try not to cry from the frustration that scorches your insides as his fingers draw an array of patterns into your clit. You'd snark back a response if your brain wasn't melting in your skull and leaking out of your ears at the moment. All you can do is hope your watery eyes and fractured whimpers are enough for him to go easy on you. 

“Don't look at me like that,” he says with a breathless laugh, kissing the corner of your mouth while his fingers pick up the pace and cause your stomach to drop as the tension builds again. “You know how sexy you look when you cry,” he groans, watching your face intensely as his fingers continue to make your eyes roll and your thighs shake violently around them. 

“I–Please please please, can I cum? Ple–” your begging is cut off by a sharp gasp, “Ah Josh–Joshie please, I'm so close.” 

He doesn't give you an answer. Electing instead to maintain the strokes of his fingers and coaxing you to the proverbial edge once again while he watches you struggle not to fall apart underneath him. Joshua knows you better than the back of his hand. He knows you're close just from the way your nails claw into his skin and your eyes can barely stay focused on anything. From the way the heartbeat in your clit hammers against his fingers and your wetness dribbles onto the hotel sheets. From the way you stumble over every word that isn't his name and pleads to cum. If anything, he's impressed you've managed to hold yourself together this long. 

Too bad he enjoys toying with you too much. 

This time a wobbly sob does fall from your lips and you can feel a few, stray, hot tears streaming down your face when he removes his hand again. All you can do is lay there as you attempt to chase the relief of his fingers pathetically. Your pussy once again left painfully fluttering as the promise of an orgasm is viciously ripped away from you. Joshua kisses you before you can whine at him again. It's a messy and deeply uncoordinated kiss, his desire pouring out of him in waves while you try and kiss him back as best as you can. 

“So fucking hot,” he grits into your mouth as he rustles with something, “So hot and wet and needy just for me. Fuck, if you keep looking at me like that, I just might cum before I even fuck you,” he rushes out. Just the thought of that causes you to shake your head and whine into his mouth, clutching at his bare shoulders in desperation. 

His laugh is deep and attractive and it makes you want him even more somehow, “Don't worry, baby,” he soothes, positioning himself between your thighs, “I'll make sure to fill you up nice and good.” 

The press of his tip against your dripping entrance sends a shudder down your entire body. ‘When did he get his cock out?’ you wonder in a daze, using a considerable amount of effort to watch the way he grasps his fat cock in his hand and drags it along your puffy, dripping pussy. 

“We've been together for years and I still can't believe how wet this pussy gets for me,” he mutters to what you assume is himself but, you hear him all the same. You genuinely think you might lose your mind if he doesn't just push into you right now. 

“Joshie,” you half-whimper, half-sob, “I'm so–I want it, please. Did–Didn't you say you were going to ah fuck a baby into me?” 

The storm of emotions that flashes across his face causes the claws of anticipation to dig at your insides. A startled noise is forced out of you when he sinks his cock into you with one, sharp snap of his hips. The sting is minimal but, present. A few more stray tears fall from your eyes as you try to adjust to the toe-curling stretch. Holy shit. You don't think you'll ever quite be over the way his first thrust always sends you reeling. 

“So tight,” he grits out, heavy eyes shifting from watching the way your face morphs into expressions he's seen a million times and will happily drink in a million times more to the way his cock forces you open, “I think you might have gotten tighter somehow. If you wanted me to get you pregnant, all you had to do was ask,” he says with an arrogant laugh. You don't really have much room to argue when he draws more pitchy whimpers from you and you can feel the way you clamp down around him. 

“You–You're the one who told me that ah god you want a baby,” you gasp out in response, your tongue lolling out of your mouth when he harshly grabs your thigh with his massive hand. 

“True,” he concedes, using his other hand to grasp your chin, smearing your wetness on your face and forcing you to meet his eyes that threaten to swallow you whole, “But don't pretend like you're not as into this as I am. I can feel the way your pussy keeps trying to milk my cock and the way you're gushing onto it.” 

His fingers are in your mouth before you can respond. The taste of yourself invading your senses, adding to the haze clouding your mind and making your clit throb as you chase the taste of yourself. 

Your hands fly to his broad back when he uses his other hand to slip between your overheated, sweaty bodies to find your clit. Not giving you a second to catch your breath, he draws frenzied circles into you that send you keening around his fingers and your eyes rolling into the back of your skull. 

“I want you to cum,” he orders, panting into your ear before freeing your mouth from his fingers, “Wanna feel you make a mess on my cock,” he says between heavy breaths while his fingers and cock and words and just him bring you increasingly close to the edge at breakneck speed. 

It's an especially hard press of his fingertips that finally sends you careening over the edge he's been pushing you towards and pulling you back from for god knows how long now. Your entire body seizes and for what feels like ages all you can see is white. Distantly, you can hear Joshua saying something but, you couldn't hope to make out what it is. The bliss sending you to another dimension entirely, furthered by him not stopping his thrusts all the while. 

“–Yeah, good fucking girl,” are the first words you manage to catch as the white disapates and you somewhat return to your body, the sounds of skin slapping against skin and the obscene squelching of his cock bullying your still fluttering pussy hitting your eardrums. Blinking up your teary eyes up at him, desire prods at your gut despite just cumming, seeing the way his sweaty bangs shadow his blown out eyes that have never left your face the entire time you were cumming. 

You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him into a passionate kiss. A kiss he readily allows himself to get lost in as his fingers dig into your hips to keep you in place to take every one of his unrelenting thrusts.

“Want one more from you,” he pants into your lips, “Wanna feel you cum one more time before I fill up this pretty pussy,” he heaves, eyes totally glassy and nothing but, ocean deep lust reflected in them. 

“Don–Don't ah fuck know if I can any–anymore,” you whimper in response because, yeah, you really don't know if you can. You feel thoroughly rung out right now. The sparks from your orgasm are still going zipping off all over your body, fuelled by every brush of his cock against your walls and his mouth on you. 

“Of course you can, baby,” he coaxes, his hands drifting from your hips to your thighs, forcing them upwards and his cock impossibly deeper.  The depth sends your head snapping back and a choked gasp echoes through the bedroom, joining the myriad of nasty sounds ringing through it. 

“So–So deep,” you whimper, overwhelmed tears not helping in the slightest to cool your burning face. “Yeah?” He breathes, his pace unrelenting, “Gonna cum all over this fat cock? Gonna make a mess on it like the good girl I know you are?”

God. How are you not going to cum when he talks to you like that while he fucks you like that?

“Ye–Yeah,” you moan, the familiar zip of electricity courses through your entire body when he snaps his hips into you harshly, sending his tip straight into a part of you that sends your back arching, “Clo–Close. Gonna cum. Wanna cum on your big cock, Joshie.” 

“Shit,” he groans, smashing his lips against yours in a kiss that is mostly teeth and tongue, “Fuck. Your pussy is so good. It's out of this world,” he heaves, his strokes growing sloppy but, he pushes through as best as he can, “Wanna watch you.” 

The chord snaps before you even realise how slenderly it was holding on. 

Joshua greedily swallows every watery moan of his name and whatever else your fucked out brain babbles out. Large hands gripping your thighs harshly as his pace grows increasingly unsteady with every stroke he gives you as you cum all around him, gushing onto his throbbing cock. 

“Yeah, that's it,” he groans, “Cum all over me. Such a good girl, such a good pussy. Gonna make me cum so hard. Cum until you're so full that my cum is leaking out of you for weeks. Gonna get you all nice and round and pregnant with my baby,” he rambles deliriously, his cock pulsing wildy inside of you with every thrust. 

“Want it,” you cry in response, “I want it, Joshie. Want your cum. Want your baby.” 

The moan that falls from Joshua's full lips is broken and drawn out. His grip on your thighs border on bruising as he keeps you in place (as if you would go anywhere if you could even move right now) so you have no choice but to accept the ropes of cum he floods your still spasming pussy with. The warmth that fills you draws soft whimpers from you. You're always left in awe with just how much he cums. 

A quiet groan leaves your body when he drops his weight onto you, panting against your shoulder as his cock softens inside of you and his grip on your sweaty body loosens. He's heavy but, you're empathetic because your own body feels like it weighs the same as an adult elephant right now. For the moment, you're content to bask in the intimacy of mind-blowing sex. You'll nudge him off of you when it becomes too difficult to breathe. 

Your fingers move on their own, rubbing his back and smiling when he tiredly hums in appreciation. Returning your affection with featherlight kisses pressed into your shoulder. 

It might have been five minutes or fifteen or thirty but, eventually, Joshua eases himself out of you and rolls off of you. You can't help the quiet laugh that you let out when he groans at the effort before tugging you into his side. 

“So,” he starts, the scratchy quality of his voice washing over you like a warm blanket, “having a baby, huh?”

All you can do is snort very unattractively in response.

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Seventeen Masterlist | Ko-Fi

[mochinomnoms]

For the Shrimper Chronicles: what about Azul realizing he’s in love with the shrimpy, and even realizing he probably has loved Jade and Floyd for a long time?

Doesn’t have to be a written thing, but I just think the idea of him having that realization would be cute—

Him realizing he doesn’t want to leave on his visits. Him realizing he misses Jade and Floyd. And he’s such an emotionally constipated dude, he probably tries to choke the idea out of existence. Maybe he gets a bit snippy or tries to bury himself in work and be distant. Though I think the twins would start to notice his change in behavior.

Maybe when he gets more comfortable, giving cute little courtship “test” trinkets to get a feel for it.

I wonder if there’d be a hierarchy to who he gives trinkets to first? Like, when courting an established poly, does he approach the shrimpy or the eels first? I feel like he’d probably spend a lot of time thinking on that.

TLDR: adorably overthinking octopus has a crisis on whether to/how to court a poly of his dear friends lol.

-👹🎏 (Devil Fish Anon?)

For me personally, I feel that the octopolycule would have had to already started with the twins and Azul during NRC in order for it to work. It feels like a more natural progression of their relationship from “business” associates to friends to lovers, which I can't really see happening when they get older. If you add in the relationship with Shrimpy, I feel like there's even less of a chance of it happening.

It's not impossible, though! I can see the polycule still happening later on if it was a case of the tweels and Azul knowing they liked each other deep down, but seeing Azul's childhood effected his sense of self-worth and ability to really get close to others, nothing ever happens.

When you come into the picture and get closer and closer to the three of them, that same issue happens again. Azul probably feels a bit of an ache in his heart when the three of you get together, but he'd never admit it.

The ache is worse because the three of you seem insistent on making him a cornerstone of your lives, he's at your home more than he is at his own! Forced to be a giant pillow for you three, as Floyd in particular giggles about how soft and squishy he is. Floyd has always been like that, though, even though Azul doesn't want to admit that the nuzzling is new.

Jade, despite his parents' insistence on taking more charge in the family business, still acts his right-hand man, often staying late with Azul at his restaurants. He's always ensuring Azul eats well…extraordinarily well…based on the complicated and filling meals he makes. Azul doesn't want to put more meaning into it, caecilians might court via food, but morays don't…mostly anyways.

You seem particularly insistent on involving him with your little ones' lives, much more than any uncle should be. He doesn't want to mistake the adoring look in your eye as he cradles one of the fries in his arms. The worst part is that he can't bring himself to argue against it when he starts being called 'Baba Zuzu', it's so cute, so sweet, and he just wants to pretend that the kids are his too when you curl into his side with the fries in his arms.

He is just ever so slightly emotionally stunted, and as smart as he is, he also is an Olympic Pro at mental gymnastics. My favorite way of the polycule becoming official is when Azul is laying in bed with all three of them, you in his arms, Floyd practically splayed over him and you on the left side, and Jade tangling his tail with Azul's tentacles as he rests his chin on the top of his head. And let's not forget the kids curled with each other on top of his chest.

It takes a moment, just as Azul is falling into a blissful sleep, cradled against his family, when the 'his' part of that sentence hits. His eyes snap open, as he realizes.

"Wait a second..."

[inkdrinkerworld]

Cw: a little suggestive so maybe 18+only, I’m just kinda playing around to figure out his voice ygm?

Dick Grayson who’s the world’s biggest flirt and doesn’t mind one bit that you’re the feistiest thing he’s ever come across.

“You know, I could always help you spar, get your hand eye coordination up to my levels,” he’s still the dorky gymnast kid he’s always been- just older and a lot hotter.

You’d been in the league with him and went solo when he’d founded the Titans but he still pops up every now and then to tease and get under your skin like he’d done when he’d still been Robin.

“And what level would that be Grayson? Second base?” Your chest is heaving as you stand, body dripping in sweat from your latest sequence.

Dick knows you don’t really need pointers, but how else is he going to make a show of wanting to be around you.

“I’m wounded,” he places his hands on his chest and leans forward, the perfect opening for you to swipe your foot at his legs and have him falling forward.

Instead, the stupid (read:sexy, cocky, egoistic, did you say sexy yet?) man jumps over the anticipated attack and flips you onto your back.

“You wound me, pretty girl.” You roll your eyes and flip you both over, so you’re hovering over him.

“I really might,” he winks at you as you stand and you shake your head. “What are you doing here anyway?”

Dick stands, takes your towel and wipes his face and then leans on the doorframe.

“Came to check in on my girl, that so bad?” You get up on your toes and press a kiss to his lips.

“Missed you,” he murmurs against your lips, his hands holding your waist tight as he pulls you closer. “Spend the night with me?” He trails his nose against your jaw, his lips stamping kisses under your neck on the myriad of beauty marks you have that make your knees weak.

“Dick,” you grumble, hands sinking in his hair. “Fine,” you try to keep your voice all gruff and steady but he knows better. He feels the jump in your pulse, his ears are insanely attuned to you so he hears the little hitch in your breath too.

“Don’t sound so excited,” he pulls away with a smug smile and you know you’ve got a hickey somewhere on your neck. “Meet you by the bike in ten?”

“If you think I’m getting on that thing with you Grayson, you haven’t missed me enough.” There’s a poorly hidden smile on your face as you back out of the training room.

“Whatever you say, gorgeous. I’ll be by the bike.”

You don’t protest much when you step outside, dressed all pretty with your duffel bag full of clothes and whatever else you might need and find Dick leaning on his car- a midnight blue that puzzles you on how no one figured him out to be Nightwing for so long.

“Such a liar,” he takes your bag from you, chucking it into the trunk as you reach for the door.

“Touch that handle and we’ll have issues,” your hand drops immediately. “Didn’t want you to feel all desperate having to rub up on me the entire ride back to our place.”

The way he says it, our place, warms your heart. You and Dick had the roughest time getting accustomed to each other and now that ease, that familiarity, that willingness to share something so intimate and it be easy- it makes everything you’d both undergone worth it.

“Yeah b’cause I’m the desperate one between us,” He smiles as he buckles your seatbelt for you.

“Glad you could admit it, gorgeous.” He kisses you then closes the door before you can complain and all you hear is his laugh as he rounds the car to get in.

[theocddiaries]

Alfred: I don't understand. What are we watching? Bruce [Pointing at a camera footage on the TV]: Okay, look. I fell yesterday at the market. Dick and I have been having a little disagreement as to what happened. Just watch. I stop to fix my shoe, and then Dick… Right there. He makes way for this very attractive woman, whom he conveniently leaves out of his retelling of the story. Now, right here, Dick backs up, pushes his butt into the cart, pushes me into the cans. Do you see that? It's all his fault! Just like I said! I was right! Suck it! Cass: When did you get this? Jason: Oh, my God. That's why you wanted to come separately. Steph: You went to all that trouble just to prove you were right? Bruce: It really wasn't that much trouble. I went to the store, found your friend Jordan, the bag boy, who got me the manager. He gave me the address of the off-site security office. I filled out some paperwork. Sally faxed it to corporate. Three minutes later, I'm buying a pack of DVDs and burning a copy. Piece of cake. Tim: …It's like a sickness. Bruce: What? None of you believed me, so I got proof. You should all be sucking it right now. Kate: Please stop with the "sucking it," Bruce. They're children. Clark: Yes, children are very impressionable. You'll never know what they'll pick up. Lois: Ugh! Okay, Clark, I'm sorry that I blamed it all on you, okay? But we both need to look at our actions. I mean, if we're thinking about adopting another baby, then we need to-- Diana: You're adopting another kid? Clark: That's not the way you make an announcement! Banners! Banners! [Puts on music] 🎶Ah, let's give the boy a hand 🎶 Jason: What the hell's happening here? Dick: Is that from Footloose??? Clark [Turns off the music]: Really, Lois? You couldn't even share telling our friends. Kate: Why are you upset? This is such good news. Lois: No, we're a little on edge because Conner has been acting out, like he doesn't want a sibling-- Clark: Yeah, because Lois taught him to hate sharing. Lois: And, or, because Clark wears him like a fanny pack. Alfred: Oh, stop blaming each other. No kid wants a sibling. I remember Bruce hated his cousin so much, he stuck her in a dryer when she was two. Kate: You put me in the dryer? Bruce: …I did. But it wasn't 'cause I hated you. My friend Thomas said that it wouldn't run with a kid inside it, and I knew it would. I was right. Dick: Good governor. It's been going on since you were five? Bruce: …Oh, my God, it is a sickness. What would make me have that need at such a young age? Kate: How long was I in that dryer? Because- I-Is this why I'm afraid of tumbling? I had to quit gymnastics! Dick: A childhood without tumbling?! [Faces Alfred]. You knew this, and just stood by and did nothing? Alfred: Okay, okay. What's done is done. All you can do is learn from your mistakes. And in that spirit, I would like to propose a toast to our young master Damian. This week, he did something he wasn't supposed to do, like we all do-- Diana [Interrupting]: Like we all do!. Cheers, my young warrior! Alfred: No. Not yet. Master Damian stood up like a man. He admitted he was wrong, and he took his licks. And I'm very, very proud of him. Diana: Aaaand now we clink. Alfred: No, we clink when I say we clink. So Master Damian made a mistake, but he didn't take the easy way out. He's got guts. He's got integrity. And as far as I'm concerned, he's the best-- Damian: Okay, stop, stop! I didn't do any of that! Miss Diana broke into the locker and threw the necklace inside, and then we ran away like cowards! I'm sorry, Alfred! I'm sorry! Alfred: Aha! I knew it. I was right! I was right! Everyone: … … [In realization]: Ohhhh. Makes sense. Alfred: … [Drinks in silence].