#I'm just in excruciating pain while I do it

[euphoric-rambles]

I want to comment as someone who got a hysterectomy at 33 (and am now 35).

Why did I do it?

I was diagnosed at 26 with a rare form of uterine pre-cancer called Atypical Polyploid Adenoma (APA) and had recurrent tumors in my uterus with some transformation of the cells indicating a chance of high malignancy. Meaning there was a higher chance that I could develop an aggressive form of uterine cancer. Over the course of almost a decade, I visited my gynecologist, oncologist, and GP several times a year. I had annual transvaginal ultrasounds (where a wand is shoved inside your vagina to take pictures of your uterus and ovaries) along with several D/Cs. A D/C is where a doctor shaves a section of the impacted uterine tissue with a laser--think Darth Vader lasering out your uterus.

I also had several biopsies of my uterus taken. Uterine biopsies are some of the most targeted pain I have ever felt. The doctor has to open your cervix to get into the uterus. This is often completed while the patient is awake and without any pain relief. After my first one I was crying so hard my oncologist was concerned I might be having a panic attack.

Could you have just had D/Cs for the rest of your fertility?

I could have, but the stress, anxiety, and pain was getting to me. As any patient with cancer will tell you, the anxiety is excruciating. I also had serious conversations with my oncologist about the likelihood that I could get pregnant (many of my tumors grew on my fundus, where an egg would implant) and the chance that the hormonal changes could trigger that transformation into cancer. To me, it wasn't worth the risk. That may not be true of other patients.

What was the prep like?

I went through an oncology department so my prep was to fill in many, many legal documents that said I understood that my fertility would be gone and could not come back. Otherwise I faced no pushback from my surgical team.

The prep for the surgery was the same as is for any other same day procedure. No food after midnight, bath with unscented soap.

What does a hysterectomy feel like?

You're under general anesthesia so, at the time nothing. I elected to have laparoscopic surgery and my surgeon used a DaVinci robot. Which, is SO FUCKING COOL. They asked as they were wheeling me in if I had questions and I was like !!! YES I want to know more about the robot. There is an option to have a vaginal hysterectomy where the uterus is pulled through an incision in the vagina.

What's recovery like? Do you have scars?

I'm not going to lie, the first day or so was pretty awful. I had trouble walking and getting up and down off the toilet. My boyfriend had to help get me with a lot of basic functions. But after the first week, I was fine.

I was also pretty bloated following surgery as they inflate the area with air. Be open with anyone in your home, you're going to fart for a bit. Depending on which pain meds you receive (again, I went through oncology, I was given Percocet) you may be constipated which HURTS if you push after surgery.

I do have four tiny scars that are the length of my pinky nail. After two years, one has basically disappeared and one is in my belly button. I've explained the remaining scars away as falling as a child and people believe it.

Do you regret having a hysterectomy?

Again, my reasoning for doing this was not political but the answer is no. I categorically do not regret the surgery at all. When I woke up I sobbed that I was free and that it was over. I suffered for almost a decade and have never been happier.

Do you still get a period?

I do but not in the sense that I bleed. Again no uterus. But I do get a 'period' where I get cramps and moody. My hormones are still firing but often misfire, like I get bladder cramps (thanks Prostaglandins) because the hormones are looking for my uterus, thus I also get period diarrhea. There's a fun video from gross science that covers period poops. I do not have the period weight gain or acne that I had when I was menstruating. But that's my experience, I'm curious what others have experienced.

My hormones function normally because I still have my ovaries.

Do you have any other side effects?

I had my cervix removed as well and that is partially responsible for my ability to get wet during sex. I can still get wet but it is a little different. Climaxing also feels different, almost muted sometimes, which sucks. But I can still climax, I've just had to work differently with my partner.

I also did not have any post surgical complications but I know two other folks who had hystos and one had trouble urinating right after and needed a catheter for about a week.

What else do I want you to know?

I need you to understand that a full hysterectomy means you cannot and can never get pregnant. There is no way to take eggs from you and this cannot be reversed. Do not be mistaken--this IS permanent sterilization.

I am not stating this to scare you but to make sure you understand there is no going back. I think at this very political moment anxiety is SO high but please really assess whether or not you ever want biological children. If you do not that's ok, and a hysterectomy might be an option for you. Others have suggested other options which as also permanent sterilization techniques.

My ask box is always open for questions on hysterectomies. Make an informed decision and surround yourself with folks who love you.

if you're looking for a sign to get the hysterectomy, get it. if you are wondering if you will feel freer, less burdened, more optimistic, lighter without your uterus, you will. if you simply want to never get periods again, get the hysterectomy. if you want to have sex with a different person every day forever and never worry about getting pregnant, get the hysterectomy. if you don't know whether or not you want to stay on hormones, get the hysterectomy anyway. if you're afraid you're too young, and that people will judge you, get it anyway. you don't have to live in a hostile body. you are the one who gets to decide what it will and will not do.

[v-iv-rusty]

I love having not necessarily a high pain tolerance, just a fucked up perception of pain, to where I have no idea if something is supposed to hurt as much as it does so I just. don't do anything abt it ever

[torgawl]

this week's episode was pretty set on confirming a few of our suspections were true like tianchen impersonating his sister and cheng xiaoshi being in lu guang's body at the end of the last episode. to me the thing i'm most curious about is tianchen's ability. is he actually red eyes? red eyes from last season could use their ability though photos but the tianchen we personally know controlls people through touch. having the ability to control multiple people (or two, specifically) simultaneously, which is something quite interesting. unless he can use his technique in two different ways, which we haven't seen any ability user do so far, this feels really odd and i'm starting to think the siblings having red eyes was simply a detail to throw us off?! maybe this doesn't make sense but you know how cxs has brown eyes but his eyes change colour while using his ability? why wouldn't tianchen's eyes change colour if he was the one possessing other people's bodies? and the way his eyes glow in the final scene with lu-guang... is that to show he's evil or is that a sign he's using his ability? but then how? because he was just talking to lu guang in his own body and lu guang wasn't under his influence, right? i'm very confused about him and his relationship with qian jin

[brummiereader]

@mischievouslittlecreature what's that sound? Ah yes, it's the sound of Luca seething about his stupid mistakes...it's bliss😌🥰.

I was there enjoying Luca getting told of by his mum for the billionth time 😂. I loved the scene you set with the descriptions of him sat chewing his tooth pick among the destruction he'd caused.

We’ll get her back.” “No, you won’t. Thomas isn’t going to let her out of his sight now.”But why is he still not listening? Hasn't he learnt his lesson yet? Listen to ya mama you fool! He's so smug to think he'll ever get that chance again. Mrs Changretta was right, if he wanted to cause unimaginable pain to Tommy, he should have taken Lucy out straight away. Good thing he's an idiot and didn't listen, because I can't have Lucy leaving Tommy alone in the world. I don't even want to imagine the depths of despair he'd reach if that ever happened 😭.

Ok, my weakness will always be seeing Tommy completely broken, but it's also animals. Asher's reaction to seeing Lucy was...💔. The fur baby just wanted to cuddle up to his mum and make her feel better, but I fear that even his body against hers would be enough to cause poor Lucy excruciating pain.

You really captured Tommy's heartache during this scene we've these little lines... Ada rested a hand on his upper arm while he bowed his head. “I don’t know what kind of permanent damage that might’ve done.”-"she looked at his hand still clasped tightly in Lucy’s. It's like the life's being sucked out of him as he watches Lucy sleep, he can't bare it 😔.

“I can’t stay here.” I can’t watch you love someone else. Oh Lizzie, would you please shut the fuck up. I don't care if she didn't say it, she thought it. Which means, she still doesn't give a shit about everything that's happend and is STILL thinking about herself. Please, can she stay in that little house so we never have to deal with her snotty remarks again??

I don't think I was quite prepared to see Lucy so weak, so fragile and scared in the next scene. I've seen glimpses of her doubtung herself, battling with her lack in confidence, but the following scenes were she's zoning in and out, thrashing half asleep during her nightmares was unbearable to see 😔.

“What use am I to you now?” she forced herself to ask in a hoarse whisper. Tommy’s eyes widened, scooting closer to her. I'm seriously so dumb that I didn't realise how being in that position for multiple days on end would effect the nerves in your arms. This honestly scared me for Lucy, not because I don't think she'll be able to maybe recover but because of what it will do to her already fragile mind. She's always someone that needs to have something to do, and this is only going to create more unease in her that she's no longer useful to Tommy, no matter what he says.

But he's right, she's more than an assassin. She has an incredibly sharp mind. I think it will take her time to realise that she might not be able to do the things she once could if it comes to that.

The part where she had her nightmare and how Tommy grounded her was so powerful to read, I loved every second of it. It's a tip I've used during my own panic attacks, I wouldn't be surprised if it's something Tommy has learnt to do over the years when his own anxiety and PTSD takes a turn.

You’re a good nurse.”- His chest buzzed pleasantly against her ear with a quiet chuckle. “You’re high as a kite, love.” He kissed the top of her head. “Go back to sleep.” ❤️ aww, I couldn't help but smile at this little part. Even though she may have been up with the fairies, I really think Tommy needed that playful normality from her before he too lost it to the horrors of Lucy's physical and mental state.

He had hardly left her side for the last week. Even getting him to let her use to loo on her own had taken a significant amount of convincing. Stop 😭! I knew he'd be velcroed to her 🥰.

Tommy's care and affection towards her is top tier right now👌🏼. He's so mindful about everything ❤️. But this scene is at the boxing match....which means, shits about to hit the fan...again 😳😬. And it also means that Tommy's attentions are gonna be drawn to Arthur and what's about to happen to him. She better not be left alone, not for one second!

Excited to see what happens, and see how Lucy continues to recover from everything. Eek 😍!

Part 21: The Shadow of the Abattoir

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x OC

Summary: Lucy begins the long recovery from what Luca did to her, while the Shelbys prepare for Bonnie's boxing match.

Word Count: 5,254

Notes: Warnings for depictions of PTSD, injuries, chronic pain, and references to torture.

Previous Chapter • Series • Fic • Next Chapter

Chapter 26: Lost Forever

Audrey entered Luca’s room to find it in complete disarray. The papers that he kept spread across his desk were all over the floor, chairs and tables overturned in the sitting room, a lamp smashed on the thin rug, along with the shattered remains of crystal glasses and a decanter filled with amber liquid.  

Her eyes swept over the scene of destruction, lips pursing. 

When Matteo came to her lodgings, eyes wide and begging her to please come at once, she had almost sent him away. She probably would have, had it been anyone else asking for her help. She was the matriarch of the Changretta family, and she answered the summons of no one. 

“Luca,” she said, stepping deeper into the room, towards where he was seated on the couch, staring straight ahead, gnawing so hard on the toothpick wedged between his teeth that she thought he might splinter it in half. Glass crunched under her heels.

She lowered herself into the seat beside him, keeping her back straight, watching her son scrutinizingly. 

“What happened?”

He didn’t answer her, and Audrey bristled. 

“When your mother asks a question, you answer it, Luca.”

“She got away,” he growled, eyes still staring straight ahead. “She fucking got away.”

“Who?”

“The Red Demon. Lucy Winters.”

Audrey felt her stomach fall into her toes, though she did not let it show on her face. “How?”

Luca shook his head. “Shelby found her, we think. The fucking gardener was found this morning, laid out on the doorstep of one of our old businesses, with his throat cut and his eyes torn out.”

“The gardener talked? But I thought you had men protecting him…”

“Yeah. Two men who we can’t locate. They were last seen at a pub with Smith. They were probably drunk when the Peakys arrived. Didn’t stand a fucking chance. Not that anyone who was at the pub that night will tell us anything.”

Audrey cursed in Italian under her breath. “But you left guards with Winters.”

“They’re all dead.”

“All of them?”

“Yes. Shelby must have killed them all.”

“Or she did.”

Luca finally looked at her. “She was barely able to stay conscious when I left her. She’s cut up and beaten within an inch of her life. There’s no way that she–”

“How many times do I have to tell you to stop underestimating her before you listen to me!?” With a sharp, controlled movement, she cuffed him around the back of the head like she used to when he was small. “If any of your men gave her so much as a sliver of an opportunity, I promise you that she took it.”

“And killed all of them?”

She looked around the room, a casualty of Luca’s wrath undoubtedly after he learned the news of Winters’s escape. Her mind wound back to when Lucy Winters first arrived in Small Heath. The stories that had soon began to follow her. “She’s done it before.” She turned her gaze back onto her son. “You should have just killed her when you had the chance.”

“We’ll get her back.”

“No, you won’t. Thomas isn’t going to let her out of his sight now.” Frustration mounted in her veins, making itself known through a venomous look thrown Luca’s way, shaking her head. “You had the opportunity of a lifetime. You had her in your clutches. Do you understand how profound of an effect her death would have had on Thomas? They say he went half mad with grief over his wife’s death. What do you think killing Winters would have done to him? It would have crippled him. Or we could have used her as a bargaining tool. Or bait. Something.” She stood, towering over him, her disappointment mounting with every passing moment. How could he have been so stupid!? “And you just wanted to play out some silly little revenge fantasy. Instead of actually using your victory to your advantage. Your father and I taught you better than that.”

“Isn’t that what this all is? Revenge, mother? I was paying her back for all the pain she’s caused. She was there when they tortured my father. She’s already killed more than a handful of our men. She deserved to know what it felt like. Besides, she’s not going to be much use to Shelby at all with how badly injured she is.”

Audrey shook her head. No use. He really thought that the woman who likely kept Thomas Shelby standing upright with her mere presence was of no use to him. “You have not listened to a single word that I’ve said, have you?”

Luca looked up at her, hurt cracking across his eyes. “I’ve done everything that you’ve told me to do.”

Head shaking back and forth, she went to the door.

“There’s the boxing match next week. We’ll strike a blow, then,” Luca called after her. 

“Better pray it’s a big one, then. Because you’re running out of time.”

∗ ∗ ∗

Lizzie pushed the door to the bedroom open with her fingertips, peering in to find Lucy asleep, curled on her side in bed, a quilt pulled up over her chest, bandages wrapped around what looked to be most of her body. Tommy was hunched over in a chair at her bedside, Lucy’s hand in his. Ada was standing next to him, her hand on his shoulder while she looked down at Lucy’s sleeping figure. 

“How is she?” she asked. Tommy cleared his throat, wetting his lips. 

“Her back is…shredded. He whipped her,” Lizzie saw his hand tighten where it rested against his knee. “He reopened all her scars from…” he paused as if unable to bring himself to actually say it out loud, “from what happened to her in London before she came to us.”

“Jesus,” Ada breathed, a hand going to her lips. 

“She took a bullet to her shoulder. I removed it. Cleaned and stitched her up. Gave her something for the pain and to help her sleep.” He rubbed a hand down his face. “She said that he bound her from the ceiling so that she was dangling with her arms above her head for days. I don’t…” he had to pause to get his voice under control. Ada rested a hand on his upper arm while he bowed his head. “I don’t know what kind of permanent damage that might’ve done.” 

“But she’s alive.”

“Yes,” he agreed, though there was something in his voice that seemed to indicate that he wasn’t wholly confident in that statement. 

“I’ll take Charlie for a few nights. He shouldn’t see her like this.”

“Thank you.” 

“And Polly and Arthur will deal with everything else for the time being. You don’t need to worry about it. There’s still Bonnie’s boxing match with Alfie’s boy, but…”

“Someone needs to call Alfie and tell him we found her.”

“Already done. He said to tell you that he’ll deal with the last few arrangements that need to be made for the fight.”

“Right.”

“Doctor Evans will be here within an hour.”

“Good.” Lizzie wondered if the doctor was going to be in for a good scolding for not coming right as soon as he was called.

There was the clack of nails against the hardwood floor in the hallway, and then Asher was squeezing around Lizzie’s legs, nosing open the slightly ajar door to wander into the bedroom. Bypassing both Tommy and Ada, he raised his head to sniff at Lucy’s face. His tail drooped, ears falling downwards as a small whine left his throat. Tommy reached out to stroke the dog’s back. 

“I know, boy. I know. She’s okay.”

Asher looked back at him, then to Lucy, whining again. Tommy drew him away gently.

“Let her sleep, Ash.”

The black shepherd let out another soft whine, laying down next to the bed with his head on his paws, his dark brown eyes fixed dutifully on Lucy, watching over her protectively.

“Do you need anything else?” Ada asked, hand smoothing up and down Tommy’s back.

“No.”

“Call me if you do. I’ll gather up Charlie and head home. I think Polly was planning on sleeping over in one of the spare rooms.” She stood. 

“Ada,” he called, mindful to still keep his voice quiet enough that he would not wake Lucy. She turned back to him. “Thank you.”

She gave him a tiny small and a quick nod, before going to the door. Her grave gaze met Lizzie’s, reaching out only to give her a squeeze to the arm before heading to the stairs, leaving her standing in the doorway alone. 

Hands ringing together, Lizzie turned back to the bedroom, taking a cautious step forward into the room. 

“Tommy?”

He started at the sound of her voice, head raising. His eyes looked red rimmed and tired. “What?”

She ignored the bite of hurt at his sharp tone, reminding herself that he’d had more than a trying couple of days. “I’m going to go home.” 

His gaze sharpened. “Luca knows where you live.”

“I know, but I don’t think he’ll come after me right now. And…” she looked at his hand still clasped tightly in Lucy’s. Her heart twisted and fractured in her chest. “I can’t stay here.” I can’t watch you love someone else.

Tommy’s eyes searched hers, and she swore that she saw a spark of guilt as he read what was likely obvious in her gaze. “Does your house have a spare room?”

Her annoyance flared. “You’d know if you actually came to visit.”

Tommy looked away, jaw tightening. She took a deep breath.

“Yes, it does.” Her voice was softer.

“Skudboat will be sleeping there until the vendetta is over. And I’ll have multiple armed guards watching the house at all times. Isiah will be re-vetting all of your staff too, before they come back to work.”

“Fine.”

“All right, then.”

That was clearly her cue to leave, but she hesitated, gaze shifting to the tiny figure curled up on the bed. “Is she going to be okay?” she asked, voice hardly a whisper. Tommy’s shoulders heaved, and for a second she thought that he wouldn’t answer. 

“No. No, she won’t.” His voice was low and mournful, as if she had died and was gone forever rather than asleep right in front of him. A shiver went down Lizzie’s spine, looking in slight alarm at the woman who’d caused her so much emotional turmoil. 

Three days of brutal torture. That was enough to leave anyone scarred in and out for life. She wondered in what ways Lucy would be changed after this.

Chilled by the thought, Lizzie quickly made for the door.

∗ ∗ ∗

“Lucy.”

She sat on the edge of the bed, hands resting on the mattress on either side of her, eyes staring blankly at a spot on the floor. Tommy pushed the bedroom door closed with a click behind Doctor Evans, leaving Polly to escort him out while he came to sit down beside her. 

“Sweetheart?”

A choked off sob left her lips, hand flying to her mouth a second too late to try to contain it. 

“Hey,” he wrapped his arm around her carefully, pulling her into his side. “It’s okay.”

She shook her head furiously from side to side, turning her face to bury in his shoulder.

“It’s gonna be okay, baby. Doctor Evans said that all those cuts will heal…”

Yes, to leave disgusting, raised scars in their wake. 

But that wasn’t even what was really bothering her. 

“My-my shoulders…” she managed to whimper out, and she felt Tommy tense a little against her. 

“He said with time and the right exercises, you might be able to minimize the long-term damage done to them…”

She shook her head. She’d seen the look in Doctor Evans’s eyes, same as he had. That much time spent with her arms positioned over her head, with her entire body weight dangling from them, had likely done catastrophic damage to the nerves. And yes, he may have given her a set of exercises and stretches to do once the inflammation went down and her cuts healed enough that she wouldn’t risk reopening them, but she had seen it in his face. It would never be the same again. Her range of motion in them would be permanently impacted, and she’d likely have pains in them for the remainder of her life. 

“I can’t…I might not be able to…” Why couldn’t she just get the bloody words out? Was she really so useless now that she couldn’t even speak? “What use am I to you now?” she forced herself to ask in a hoarse whisper. Tommy’s eyes widened, scooting closer to her.

“What do you mean?”

Her mind tumbled over itself with all the potential implications that her injuries could have. “What if I can’t fight anymore? Or the pain gets so bad I can barely function? What if I can’t do my job? Or…or…or…” her chest started to spasm, cinching hard and closing off her ability to speak, sobs and harsh gasps rattling in her lungs. 

“Lucy, Lucy, Lucy…” Tommy gathered her up in her arms, pulling her in close to his chest. “Shh,” he started to rock her from side to side, hand cradling the back of her skull protectively. “It’s okay. It’ll be okay.” There was so much confidence in his voice that she was in danger of actually believing him. “I’ll take care of you. If you need physical accommodations for anything, we’ll sort them out, all right?”

“But–”

“Love, you’re useful for far more than just swinging fists.” Tommy tried to reassure, leaning back to smooth away her tears with his thumbs, cradling her face in his big palms. “Don’t worry about any of that right now. There’s nothing that could ever make me toss you aside, okay?” His lips brushed against her forehead. “All you need to focus on is healing and resting, eh?”

She swallowed, nodding shakily, taking a deep breath to try to steady herself. Gaze fixing with Tommy’s, she let the deep blue of his eyes ground her, reminding her that she was safe and looked after. Tommy gave her a small, reassuring smile. 

“Good girl. C’mere.” He guided her gently into laying back down on the bed on her side, and she felt a pulse of fondness at the way he immediately began fussing over her. Fluffing her pillow and pulling the blankets up to her chin. “What do you need? Are you hungry? I think Ada or Polly made soup, if you want some.” He stood at her bedside, ready to jump at any request she might give him. 

“Could you just come lay with me for a bit?”

His eyes softened, nodding and climbing in under the blankets next to her. He rested his arm lightly around her waist, taking care not to touch her back or jostle her bandages.

“I’m sorry,” she rasped, cheeks warming at her little meltdown and how frantic and irrational she probably had seemed.

“Oh, sweetheart, no. You don’t have to apologize for anything.”  

Resting her hand on his forearm, Lucy rubbed her thumb back and forth against the soft material of his undershirt. He had changed into just a white Henley identical to the one he gave her to pull over her bandages, and a pair of trousers.

“I’m so sorry that I didn’t find you sooner,” he said, thumb stroking her cheekbone. 

She shook her head. “I know that you did the best you could.” Adjusting herself, she stifled a wince at accidentally placing too much pressure on her bruised ribs. There wasn’t really any part of her that she could lay on without any discomfort, but being on her side was significantly better than being on her back. “How did you find me?”

“Our boys found Lizzie’s gardener who sold you out. His name was Paul Smith. Xavier Smith’s father. You remember Xavier Smith, right?”

Ah, that explained why the old man gave her up, then. “Yes.”

“I got him to talk.”

“How?”

He looked down. She inched her face closer to his in encouragement, until their noses almost brushed. 

“I pulled out both his eyes.” The way that he looked at her suggested that he expected her to recoil in horror, but she did no such thing, hardly even blinking at the revelation.  

“Is he still alive?”

A tiny, half sheepish smile crossed Tommy’s lips. “No. Not unless he can live with his head nearly sawed off.”

“You did that for me?” she asked, eyes wide.  

“Of course,” Tommy said, as if there had never been any question in his mind that he would. “I had to find you.”

She put her head on his chest, weak arms looping around his middle. He rested his palms on her gingerly, careful not to pull at her bandages when he held her.

“Try to get some more rest.”

“When’s the fight between Bonnie and Goliath?”

“In a week.”

“I want to come.”

He drew back to look at her worriedly. “Are you sure? I don’t want you to overdo it.”

“I’m sure. I…” biting her lip, she glanced towards the window, then back at him. “I don’t want to be alone right now.”

He looked her up and down. “Okay.”

“Thank you,” she put her head on his chest, blinking slowly as exhaustion took hold of her once more. Tommy’s hand continued to pet at her hair. 

“Get some sleep, love. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

And he was, when she woke but only a few short hours later, screaming. 

Her brain was fogged over with panic, hands scratching and scrabbling, legs kicking to try to fight off the monsters that moments ago she had been certain were surrounding her.

“Lucy! Lucy!” 

Her eyes darted around the room madly, searching for any signs of Luca looming in the dark corners, wicked grin pulling at the corners of his lips as he prepared to elicit more pain onto her.

“It’s okay. You’re safe.”

A hand rested lightly on her shoulder, and she thrashed violently, crying out, swatting with flailing hands. 

“Get off of me!” she screamed, trying to scramble away. He was here. He was here and he was going to hurt her again unless she managed to get away…

“Lucy.” Two strong arms wrapped around her waist, pinning her arms to her sides, keeping her from rolling away. She tried to kick out, one foot colliding hard with the wall to her left with a bang. “It’s me. It’s me. Come here. Come here.”

Her breaths were coming out in fast, frantic little bursts, eyes bulging in their sockets. 

“Deep breaths,” the voice behind her commanded, and she felt a stockily built chest rise as its owner’s lungs filled with oxygen, then slowly lower as he let the breath out. “Match my breathing, come on.”

Her mind finally managed to catch up with what was going on around her, or at least enough that she was able to recognize that the voice rumbling her ear very much was not the hissing murmur that belonged to Luca Changretta. 

Her lungs stuttered, then almost unconsciously started to match the deep rise and falls of Tommy’s chest against her. 

“That’s my girl,” he said, at her growing still. “Do you see the pictures on the wall?”

She had to squint to make them out in the darkness, but across from the bed she found the painting of a horse standing in a forest, the leaves changing colors with the seasons and fluttering to the grass that the mare was grazing upon in a layer of reds, oranges, and yellows.

Tommy’s cheek was resting against hers, his breath warm against her ear. She could feel the rumble of his voice in his chest when he spoke again. 

“The items on the nightstand?”

Her gaze cast over. To the little lamp. A half filled glass of whiskey. An ashtray dusted with black ash, with too many cigarette butts to count smashed in its center.

“Uh huh.”

“He doesn’t have you anymore.” She felt Tommy relax as he felt the tension in her start to slip away. “You’re safe,” his lips just barely ghosted across her temple. “You’re safe, Lucy. There you go.” 

Certain that she was actually lucid and calmed, he loosened his grip on her, pulling away slightly to flick on the lamp, washing the entire room in its dull, golden glow. Lucy cringed and squinted at the sudden change in brightness. 

Sinking down into the mattress, she drew her arms up to her chest, tremors starting to wrack through her body, eyes welling with tears. Her back connected with the bed, and she sharply jerked away from it with a yelp. 

Whether it was that action that caused the following hurricane of pain, or just what drew her mind’s attention to it, she wasn’t sure. It didn’t entirely matter, the result was the same. She was suddenly deeply aware of just how much everything hurt.                 

It was howling within her, her wounds screaming and muscles aching. Her back once more felt as though it had been set ablaze. Her split skin throbbed. Her shoulders hurt so badly it sent sparks of white flaring across her eyes. 

A sob left her lips, twitching as though she might be able to wriggle away from the pain. But moving only made everything worse. 

“Luce?” And then Tommy was there, leaning over her with wide, worried eyes. “Sweetheart, what is it?”

“H-hurts…” she barely could get the word out, but it was enough. Tommy shot up, reaching for the nightstand, pulling from the drawer the bottle of morphine that the doctor had left for her, along with a prescription for more if she needed it. He snatched up the glass of whiskey, downing the remaining of the amber liquid, then pouring a small amount of her medicine into the glass. 

“Drink this,” he held it to her lips. The morphine was cold as it touched her tongue and slid down her throat. “Come here,” setting the glass aside, he reached out for her, smoothing his hand along the side of her face. “Look at me. Focus on my voice. Just give it a few minutes love, hm? You’ll be okay.”

Just as he said, it took only a few minutes, and the pain was dulled, her eyes starting to feel heavy again. 

“Sorry,” she mumbled, sniffing. Tommy shook his head. 

“It’s okay.”

With a sigh, she let her head rest on his chest. “‘M a fucking mess,” she lamented sorrowfully. 

“No, honey. No, you’re not. You’re just recovering. It’s alright. I gotcha.” He put his arms around her. “Light on or off?”

“Off.” It was too bright with it on. She felt his muscles flex against her as he reached over to flick it off. “You’re a good nurse.”

His chest buzzed pleasantly against her ear with a quiet chuckle. “You’re high as a kite, love.” He kissed the top of her head. “Go back to sleep.”

“You don’t have to stay.” She desperately wanted him to, but she didn’t want him to feel like he had to continue to stick around and gather up the pieces every time she fell apart. There was no doubt in her mind that she’d be waking up screaming and thrashing from nightmares probably for the foreseeable future. He was probably exhausted. He needed to rest too. “I’ll probably keep waking you up…”

“Good.” His thumb stroked her cheek. “I want you to wake me up every time that you need something.”

Her lips pouted with the desire to cry again at how nice he was being towards her. She stroked her fingers lazily across his chest, feeling how warm and strong he was; reassuring herself that she was probably as safe as was realistically possible when in the circle of his arms. 

His fingers curled under her chin, tilting her face up to look into his. “I love you, Lucy,” he kissed her softly, lips soft as a pillow against hers. Tears filled her eyes.

“I love you too.”

He smiled at her gently, placing another kiss between her brows. “Sleep,” he said, and encouraged her to snuggle back down into his chest. 

∗ ∗ ∗

Lucy stared at her reflection in the mirror in the washroom, hands gripping either side of the sink’s basin, knuckles white, lip caught between her teeth. Glassy, dead green eyes looked back at her, their judgment harsh and sharp. 

God, she looked fucking awful.

The bruises on her face had faded into unflattering shades of purple, green, and yellow. Her skin was sickly, eyes bloodshot and surrounded by dark circles.

And that wasn’t even taking into account the rest of her. She looked like she had been patchworked back together, like a blanket with dozens of holes in it that had been mended with other various scraps of fabric. Or maybe like a crude attempt at dressing up like Frankenstein’s monster. 

She knew that the other women–Polly, Ada, Linda, and Lizzie–had all planned to get dolled up in elegant, beaded dresses and expensive jewels and furs for the occasion of Bonnie’s boxing match. There was no way that she could go out like that. The best she would be able to do was dress in layers that would prevent her bandages from getting disturbed too much, and hope that she could hide most of the bruises on her face with makeup. 

Tugging at the white button down and trousers she had already pulled on earlier with Tommy’s help, she frowned, pulling her belt a few notches tighter to cinch more securely around her waist. After three days of being fed only tiny scraps of bread, she had lost weight. Also probably not helped by the fact that she’d barely had the appetite to eat anything save for small servings of chicken noodle soup for most of the past week.  

Leaning closer to the mirror, she dabbed a little more makeup over a bruise on her cheekbone, trying hard not to wince at the way that the movement pulled tightly at her shoulders. 

She did not realize just how much she raised her arms up over her head until she was practically unable to. She couldn’t even grab her favorite mug from the cupboard because it was on a high shelf.                  

A soft knock sounded at the door. “You okay in there, love?” Tommy’s voice called. Lucy sighed, rubbing at her face.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Be out in a second.”

He had hardly left her side for the last week. Even getting him to let her use to loo on her own had taken a significant amount of convincing. But she appreciated the worry. Frankly the idea of not being close to him was enough to have her teetering on the edge of a panic attack. 

Wiping her hands on a towel, she looked herself up and down one last time in the mirror, sighing and determining that this was probably about as good as she was going to be able to manage at the moment. 

When she stepped out into the hall, it was to find Tommy leaning against the opposite wall, turning a cigarette over and over between his fingers anxiously. He straightened when he saw her, wedging the cigarette between his lips and holding out a hand to help usher her back into the bedroom. 

Her fingers fiddled together as she stepped towards the bed, picking up her waistcoat and shoving her arms through the holes, thankful that it buttoned in the front so she wouldn’t have to raise her arms to get it on. Tommy approached her, reaching out to do up the buttons for her, then helping her into her matching suit jacket and coat. 

It felt strange to be in her normal clothes after over a week spent in bed in little more than one of Tommy’s shirts. Not exactly a bad strange, though. It would probably do her good to return to a routine.

Tommy smiled down at her, brushing a fallen curl back behind her ear. “Ready?”

“I look like shit.”

His brows pulled together, thrusting out a hand for her to take so he could draw her closer to him, head angling down to kiss her. “You look beautiful. C’mon.”

His fingers squeezed around hers as he led the way down the stairs and to the door. The fresh air, no matter how smoky, felt good on her cheeks after so many days spent cooped up inside. 

“You know, you don’t have to come if you aren’t feeling up to it. I’m sure Ada would be happy to stay with you,” Tommy said as they walked. His gait was noticeably slower than usual, to make sure that she wouldn’t struggle to keep up. 

Lucy shook her head. The idea of not being with him left her feeling panicky. 

“I want to stay with you.”

“Okay,” he didn’t question her. “But you let me know if you’re in pain. Or if you need to go home.”

“Okay.”

Once they got to the boxing ring, she stood at his side, keeping her cap on despite them being indoors, her head angled down to let the shadows it cast partially hide the bruises on her face. Her arms looped through his, hoping that it looked more like she was just lingering close to him as she so often did, and not because she needed to lean on him for stability. The shouts of men and the crush of bodies crowded together seemed louder and more overwhelming than usual. But that may have been because she was pretty sure that if someone jostled into her too hard, she would tip over.

Just before the first round started, Tommy drew her away, his grip firm to help support her as they weaved through the tight maze of hallways that made up the backrooms.

“I thought it would be good for us to sit somewhere quiet for a minute,” he explained, guiding her to a bench in one of the locker rooms. “How are you doing?”

“Fine,” she took the cigarette that he offered her, leaning into his side when he sat down beside her. He gingerly wrapped his arm around her, resting the side of his head against her hair. 

Her physical ailments aside, what unnerved her the most was her mind. That feeling of numbness and desolation that had overtaken her the day that Tommy brought her home had not abated. Had not even eased at all, really. 

Was this what her mind was to be like, now? Aching and constantly overstimulated? Both simultaneously feeling everything and nothing? 

She did not want to live like that.

“Lucy?” Tommy asked, thumb stroking her shoulder through the material of her coat.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” she blurted out. It really meant a lot; she knew that she wasn’t particularly fun to be around right now, and with the thousands of other things he had to worry about, that he’d chosen to prioritize her was no small thing.

“Love, you don’t have to thank me for that. It’s what we do.”

She allowed herself a small smile at that, despite the unending anxiety that plagued her; that feeling that there was yet another piece of her that had died in that church. A part of her that was lost forever. 

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[advisorsage]

Good fucking gods this stomach ache better mean I got that A

And I better get the grade soon cause I'm going batshit waiting for it

[mariasont]

Office Sleepover 3 - A.H

a/n: yeehaw this took me way longer than i thought but here she be

i feel like im so ass at writing smut so just bear with me yall

masterlist

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

part one here! part two here!

pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: in which reader gets put on a hit-list and has to stay in the office (kind of based off when penelope got put on a hit-list by the dirty dozen)

warnings: 18+ MDNI, hungover reader, unwanted attention from some rando, awk as fuck reader, fingering, dirty talk, doing the dirty in the office, definitely illegal, definitely probably caught on cameras

wc: 4.2k

Everything hurt--your stomach churned, your head throbbed, and your eyes burned. You squeezed them shut, feeling your body tense against the stiff fabric of the pull-out couch. Fists curled tightly, you gradually let your eyelids part, casting a slow, sweeping glance around the room, trying to piece together what the hell happened.

Pain hammered around the inside of your head. You desperately needed a hefty dose of Advil--ten at least. As though your mind had materialized them, you rolled over to discover a bottle and a glass of water on the nightstand. You assumed you had JJ to thank, though the certainty of that was as fuzzy as your thoughts. Each effort to reconstruct last night's events was a stab to your already excruciating migraine.

You had all your clothes on, that was a plus considering your notorious history with wine and stripping. Stripping. Your hand slapped over your mouth, a floodgate of recollections bursting through--calling Hotch in a wine-induced haze, flashing your tits, asking him to stay.

You were in full-blown panic mode, the sudden urge to throw up clawing at your throat. The bed was empty, save for yourself, but you vividly remember Hotch laying down with you. This only left two possibilities: he left after you fell asleep or it had been a figment of your imagination. You were desperately hoping it was the latter.

But clearly, the universe had its own plan, because there he was, leaning against the door frame, a steaming cup of coffee in one hand and a paper bag that, by the smell of it, contained greasy food.

With a throat like sandpaper and sweaty palms, you met your boss's gaze. "Hotch," you croaked, pausing to swallow. "Um, good morning--or is it? My sleep schedule's always off after drinking. It feels bright in here, right? It's also kinda hot, is the AC working?"

You impulsively rose from the bed, a decision you instantly regretted as the room seemed to spin around you in protest.

"Sit down," he commanded, a firmness in his voice that brooked no opposition, and you promptly sat your ass back down, watching him with an expectant look.

You attempted to read his face, but it was a blank slate, making you that much more nervous. He must hate you, you figured, because you certainly hated yourself. Your boss had seen your nipples. A wave of heat washed over you, and you clenched your eyes shut, as if that could make this situation disappear.

"Here," he said, handing you the coffee and the bag, then gesturing to the Advil on the counter. "Take that, and I know you might not feel like eating, but it's necessary. The food and coffee will stabilize your blood sugar levels."

"Right, yeah, course," you nod, accepting the items with shaky hands, holding the cup with a grip that's a little too firm. "Listen, sir, I'm really sorry about last night. I promise I don't usually drink that much. I don't even know how I got that drunk, and I know I acted completely inappropriate towards you. If you need to file a complaint, I understand. Again, I'm just so sorry..."

You wanted to cry, but you held it back, knowing it would only make this whole situation worse. You deliberately avoided his eyes, focusing on anything but him while you absentmindedly toyed with the breakfast sandwich in your hands.

After a moment, he releases a soft sigh, the mattress sinking slightly as he settled beside you, his knee gently knocking yours.

"I'm aware this week's been tough on you. It's, uh, clear you weren't thinking straight, and I'm not about to make a formal issue out of a slip-up."

Your head dipped, as you tried to fend off the rising warmth in your face. "I don't think I can ever look you in the eyes again."

"That feels dramatic," he pointed out, a chuckle in his voice that made you glance his way. "Trust me, it's already forgotten."

That was a lie. He may have lacked Reid's eidetic abilities, but there was no possible, imaginative way that he would forget the image of you topless--it was imprinted in his memory. In fact, it had become the sole focus of his thoughts ever since. He silently thanked the gods that it was a Saturday, and he didn't have any pressing work issues.

"Somehow, that's not very comforting," you replied, a suppressed giggle breaking through as you met his gaze. "So, did you, um, end up staying over?"

Your cheeks glowed with a soft pink, hands unconsciously smoothing over your thighs--a nervous habit of yours he had quickly taken notice of. It emerged involuntarily when you faced tough cases, or when your computer took too long to start up, or even when the elevator made an unexpected noise.

"I did," he admitted, "You shouldn't have been alone."

Your whole body felt like it was on fire, and you were weirdly frustrated that you couldn't recall being the same bed as him, being able to feel his body against yours. You bet he was warm, and soft, and large against you.

"Thank you."

His phone went off. "Hotchner."

Your eyes followed his movements, noting the firm nods, watching as he stood, his expression hardening, jaw tightening, and hand coming to rest on his chin as he faced away from you.

The phone call was brief, and he quickly turned his attention back to you. "We've got a case."

And it was quite the case--three male victims, all in their forties. Each crime scene was close to Quantico, about twenty minutes, sparing the team any extensive travel. Though, after last night, you don't think you would have minded if they had been halfway across the country.

You were really banking on Hotch's ability to keep things professional, knowing full well that if Morgan caught wind of this, you'd be better off dead.

The team was huddled around the briefing table, absorbing Garcia's detailed rundown of the killings--they were violent to say the least--with heads bashed in and over twenty stab wounds per victim. Whoever was doing this was angry.

Hotch eventually split everyone up into tasks—Spencer and Morgan to the crime scenes, JJ and Emily interviewing the families, and Rossi was tasked with convening with the local police force. So, you know who that left at the office? You, Hotch, and Penelope. What a great group.

You avoided both of them, a pattern that had become all too familiar you had realized. Hunched over your desk, you were engrossed in sending Spencer images of your latest research on the town. True to form, he responded--Can you just fax that over to the police station?--because god forbid, he has to read it from his phone.

So, there you were, barely resisting the urge to slam your head into the fax machine. You wouldn't consider yourself technology impaired, but to say you were on friendly terms would be overstating it.

"Need help?"

"Oh, yes, please���," you began, but your voice trailed off as you noticed one of the guys from forensics hovering just a tad too close for comfort.

"They're always a bit stubborn," he noted, barely giving you space to breathe before his shoulder nudged against yours as he fiddled with the device, "just a slight...there we go."

The machine sprang into action, prompting you to step back and acknowledge his help with a nod. "Oh, thanks."

"Not a problem," he assured, stepping closer in the process, his fingers lightly brushing your thigh as he pointed out the correct button. "You see, it's all about timing," he added, his voice low and unnecessarily close, "these things can be so fussy, right?"

A subtle nod was your only response, hoping he'd take the hint that you weren't in the mood for small talk. The hangover clung stubbornly, and the whiff of his breath was a cruel taunt against the fragile peace you were maintaining over your stomach.

"So, do you find this kind of tech stuff challenging?" he asked, a little too casually. The question hung awkwardly in the air. You sought to put some distance between you, yet he matched your every move, keeping the space closed. "I mean, I'm pretty good with my hands, not just with machines honestly."

Ew.

You mustered a smile, though you were sure it was more of a grimace. The room felt smaller, the walls inching closer. "I usually manage," you responded, the strain evident in your voice.

He leaned closer, if that was possible, it was like the concept of personal space was foreign to him. "Maybe I can show you a few tricks, help you manage a little better?"

His words were light, but his proximity was anything but, almost suffocating.

Just as you were firmly about to tell him to shove it, a sharp voice beat you to it--probably for the best.

"That won't be necessary."

The forensics guy, whose name you still hadn't gotten, straightened, his smile faltering under the weight of Hotch's piercing, don't fuck with me, stare. A look usually saved for unsubs and incompetent officers, but now it singled out this man.

The same look remained on the poor guy as he directed his words to you, "why don't you join me? We need to go over some case details."

It really wasn't a question.

The man backed up instantly, mumbling something under his breath about just trying to help, but Hotch's glare followed him until he was well out of earshot.

Surprisingly, a similar sharpness was aimed at you as soon as he opened his mouth. "I'd appreciate it if you chose to flirt on your own time, not the Bureau's."

His words landed with the sting of an unexpected slap. You blinked, taken aback. "What? I wasn't--,"

But he didn't allow you time to finish. Instead, he pushed a water bottle in your hands, his eyes scrutinizing your face with such an intensity that you wished the floor would swallow you whole. "Drink. You look pale."

"Gee, thanks," you grumbled, under your breath, more to yourself than him, as he wheeled around and headed briskly for the briefing room.

Your steps lagged slightly behind him, your forehead lined with a thoughtful frown. What was that about? The way he acted--the tightness that had formed around his mouth and the harshness in his words, it was so unlike him, well, at least for it to be directed at you.

The rest of the day unfolded just as you thought it would upon waking--like shit. Hotch kept his distance, his exchanges with you brief and to the point. Every time you tried to grab his attention, hoping to clarify things (why you felt the need you weren't sure), he was already looking else, focused on literally anything but you.

It was painfully evident that he was avoiding any personal conversation with you, a realization that bit deeper than anticipated.

The office slowly emptied, the case binding you and Hotch to the briefing room, the only sounds being the faint gentle tapping of your pen and the occasional snap of your hair tie.

It was late when you finally spoke. "Hotch, this says the victim had fibers under his nails that don't match anything from the suspect's home."

Hotch's gaze snapped up to yours. "Are you saying you think the forensics team missed that?"

You met his eyes squarely, cocking your head to the side at the tone of his voice. "I'm not saying anything. I'm just pointing something out."

He bridged the space between you, his jaw set in a firm line. You could feel the warmth spreading across your cheeks as the distance dwindled.

"I'm just saying I don't want you jumping to conclusions based on underdeveloped theories."

You met his eyes with a glare, your teeth grinding together in the process. "Underdeveloped? Is that how you see my contributions now?"

The space between you had now vanished, your heart racing, finger almost poking into his chest as you spoke.

Hotch settled back against the wall, arms folded across his chest, giving you a pointed look. "I didn't say that," he replied, his voice level, markedly different from your agitated one. "We just can't afford to investigate every insignificant detail."

"Every insignificant detail?" you scoffed, "these are leads, Hotch."

His shoulders lift in an indifferent shrug that made you want to wrap your hands around his throat, and not in the good way. "Maybe. However, we need to be sure before we pursue it."

Drawing in a controlled breath, you fought to stay calm, but he was making it very hard. The sensation was all too reminiscent of college, contending with the overconfident frat boys just to voice your thoughts. That comparison may have been a tad extreme--Hotch was far from being like those insufferable boys, but he was certainly pushing your limits right now.

"I am sure. Why aren't you listening."

"I am listening," he said, but his voice was distant. "I just... I just don't want to get sidetracked, that's all."

"Sidetracked? By what, exactly?"

"I'm just not sure you're all here right now."

You felt your cheeks warming with a tinge of shame, but you pushed back, fists clenched at your sides. "I'm here, Hotch. I'm focused."

"Because last night—,"

"Last night was a mistake, okay? I got it. I already apologized for that. But I'm not irresponsible, my focus is on this case."

A lengthy pause followed, his expression unreadable. "You're certain about that?"

"Yes, I'm certain," you snapped, moving towards him again. "And for the record, JJ said you were okay with us having a few drinks."

"I was," he admitted. "But I didn't think—,"

You didn't let him finish. "What, that I'd get wasted? That I'd do something stupid? I'm sorry I'm not perfect."

"Well, yeah."

"Screw you, Hotch."

You knew that was a mistake the minute his nostrils flared, his chest now a pressing force against yours.

Then, without warning, his lips crashed into yours. A muffled oomph of surprise left you, your hands hanging motionless at first, only to quickly melt, grasping at his jacket, pulling him into you.

It wasn't a gentle kiss, nor was it kind, but it was magic, exceeding anything you could have imagined, setting every fiber of you on fire. His lips pressed against yours with an intensity that drew out a breathy sigh, arousal tingling through you, and your passion rose to meet his, equally hungry, equally desperate.

Your fantasies had never done him justice--kissing him was intoxicating, and now you could feel yourself getting lost in the sensation, realizing it was everything you never dared to hope for.

Drawing back just enough, his hands drew you closer, pressing against the dip of your back, his breath fusing with yours in a dizzying blend, making the air seem scarce.

Against the soft pressure of his lips, you murmured, "I wasn't flirting."

There's a pause as his eyes locked on yours, searching, questioning. Then, his hand settled at the side of your neck. "You better not have been."

Any witty comeback you had dissipated as his lips crashed against yours again, more urgently this time, his hands tracing every contour of your clothed body with an insatiable curiosity.

His grip tightened around your waist, effortlessly lifting you onto the briefing table's cold surface with a resounding thud, his palms then cradling your thighs. Documents and files fluttered beneath you, hopefully they weren't too important. His eyes, dark pools of brown, were meticulously scanning your face.

"You," he breathes out, his voice a low rumble laced with something you couldn't quite place, "have consumed my thoughts since the moment I discovered you on my couch." He inches closer, his breath scorching your cheek as his fingers waltzed a pattern up your thighs. "Do you understand that feeling? The intense frustration?"

You were rendered motionless, frozen in place, scared to even twitch and risk this all being a very realistic wet dream. This was Hotch, your boss, the man defined by his lack of outward emotion. To think that you--of all people--could have an effect on him was an overwhelming concept. The room seemed to tilt on its axis as he gently guided your legs apart, positioning himself between them.

"Y-Yeah, I know," you uttered unevenly, your thoughts scattering as your hands tentatively reached for his collar.

"So, you know what it's like, huh?"

Your nod was subtle, a flustered smile briefly lighting up your expressions.

"And?" he prompts, while his fingers explore the shape of your thighs, squeezing gently.

You squirm under his gaze, the intensity of it making your heart race inside your chest.

"And... it's annoying," you confess, puffing out a breath, trying sound annoyed, but the delicate blush dusting your nose gave you away, you were sure.

"Annoying?" Hotch repeats, his hand tenderly angling your face upward, his smile laced with a taunt. "Is that all?"

You rolled your eyes, a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. "It's distracting," your voice was softer now, desire pooling in your belly as you grasp just how compromising of a position you were in.

"Distracting," he tsked, echoing you once again as he nodded solemnly, pulling your hips into his. Your mouth parted in an 'o' of surprise, your gaze lifting to meet his. "Have I been the subject of your thoughts, then?"

Your head dipped in a nod, your fingers brushing against his firm chest, a soft blush coloring your cheeks. "Maybe a little, in a totally platonic boss-employee type of way."

"Oh yeah?"

You caught your lip between your teeth, considering your next words very carefully. "Well, maybe more than a little, and maybe more than just a boss."

"Oh, wow," his breath was a warm hover over your lips, hanging in the space between you. You ached for the tase of him again, rich with dark expresso and spiced cinnamon. It was a lovely combination. "Sounds serious."

You released a hushed giggle, a light note floating between you as your foreheads met. "It's not like I can help it."

"And why is that?"

"Because," you paused, wetting your lips in anticipation, "you're infuriatingly unforgettable, that's why."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"You would."

He was kissing you again. This time a little softer, unhurried, and the whole reason for your argument faded into nothingness. Although if insubordination led to this sweet consequence, it might just become a habit.

His lips traced a path down your throat, prompting your head to tilt back, baring the expanse of your skin to his exploration. Your legs wrapped around his waist, drawing him impossibly close. The world seemed distant, the sensation dreamlike, buoyed by the soft lull of a lust-induced haze.

Reason gave way to impulse; your hands lost in the softness of his hair, your back arching to his hands grasping at your ass, your clothed pussy grinding against his erection.

His hands hesitated, hovering as he reached for your top, his eyes holding yours. "Is this okay?"

You nodded, more eagerly than necessary, but that still wasn't good enough for him.

"I need a verbal yes or no."

Desperation clung to you, a needy sigh escaping you as you squirmed into his touch, his hands halting your restless movements. "Yes, please, Hotch."

"You were so eager to call me Aaron last night. Say it again."

"Aaron, please, I need you to touch me," your voice rang out, imbued with such sweetness making his length constrict against the fabric of his slacks.

His fingers deftly navigated to the hem of your shirt, sliding it over your head with a fluid motion. Your bra was next, its clasp yielding effortlessly to his touch, your tits releasing with a gentle bounce, and he fought back a groan as his large hands enveloped them.

"Every bit as perfect as I remembered," he said, his fingers skillfully pulling and twisting at the nubs as you brought you forehead to meet his, a breathy gasp tumbling from your lips at the contact.

You arched your back into his heads as he let out a soft chuckle, loving the way your body reacting to him. Your eyes held a glazed-over look, lips parted ever so slightly, and you looked up at him expectantly in way that could surely kill him. 

His hands moved slowly down your sides before brushing the sensitive skin under your waist band. You swallowed a gasp, moving your hips into his again, rolling yourself against his stiff erection.

His palms pressed against your hips. "Slow down. Let me take my time with you, yeah?"

You were at his discretion; he could ask you to jump into oncoming traffic right now and you'd probably say yes.

A nod was all you could manage as you fought the urge to move, every muscle tensed, waiting for him to make the first move, but god was it hard. You couldn't really believe this was happening, until the solid press of his thumb against your clit brought the moment into sharp focus. 

"Aaron, god," you gasped, your hands tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck. Your teeth found your bottom lip harshly, trying not to show him just how easily you could come apart right now.

"Is that good, honey?"

Honey. You could practically feel the arousal dripping your thighs as you nodded eagerly.

The pad of his thumb glided between your folds, gathering the slickness to continue his assault against your swollen clit. You buried your face deeper into his suit jacket, attempting to stifle the embarrassing sounds that you couldn't seem to contain. 

A whine of protest filled the space between you as his hand slipped away from your pants. His eyes bore into you as he gathered the strands at the back of your neck, guiding your gaze to yours. 

"None of that. Let me hear you gorgeous."

"Aaron, please, I need your fingers inside me, please."

You were painfully aware of how ridiculous you sounded, knew that if anyone else was in the office right now, you'd be so screwed, fired probably, but as his fingers dipped into your cunt those concerns dissolved quickly.

"Since you asked so nicely."

He was torturing you--his pace aggravatingly slow, working in and out of you as you tried to fight the overwhelming desire to slam your legs shut. It was so much, yet not enough. You ground yourself against his hands as his other hand clamped around your back, keeping you from falling back.

"That's it, baby, fuck yourself on my fingers."

His eyes were dark, pupils dilated, his chest rising and falling in a way that only seemed to spur you on, doing exactly as he ordered. His words felt foreign in your ears, before today you could never imagine him talking like this, so vulgarly. 

"Aaron, I-I need—," you paused, your eyes falling to his pants, more specifically the hardened cock inside them.

"Yeah? Is that what you want?"

"Yes, fuck, please," you gasped as his fingers hit that one spot just right. Your head lolled back as you clutched at his collar, his arm behind you keeping you in place.

"Watch your mouth," he said, and for some reason that was enough to send you right over that never ending ledge, your stomach coiling, heat spreading under your skin, every part of you ached.

"Oh—, Aaron, I-I'm—," you were a blubbering mess, rocking without mercy against his fingers, his thumb brushing against your nub in a way that made you feel like you had met your maker.

"That's it, baby, go ahead."

That was enough for you, your walls clenching around his fingers, back arching into him and you swore for a minute you could see stars. He helped you ride out your high.

You were wholeheartedly convinced; this was heaven. You had died and gone to heaven and the first one to greet you was Hotch, his hands tracing soothing patterns on your bare skin in an attempt to bring you back down to Earth. 

Just as you were about to reach for his pants, determined to feel him inside of you, his phone went off. Of fucking course. He shot you an apologetic look, the sound a wake-up call, pulling you both from the lust-fueled moment. 

He moved back with a couple steps, offering nods and muted words to whoever was calling at 12 am. You were suddenly extremely aware of your appearance--topless and on the briefing table for crying out loud. 

You attempted to stand, your legs betraying you with a wobble that had him instantly clasping your arm firmly, his attention flickering from the phone to the tremors in your stance. You gave him a small in return as if to say I'm fine.

You reached across the table, grabbing your shirt from its discarded state, not bothering with the bra as you dressed quickly. He cleared his throat, causing you to turn, just in time to see his phone disappear into his pocket.

"That was the Stafford police chief, there was another murder," he explained.

"Oh, right, okay, um..." you started, your brain racing into overdrive as you instinctively moved towards the door. "I just need to..."

Your movement was too quick, a dizzying spin that resulted in you tumbling into Hotch's solid frame. His reflexes were immediate, hands clasping onto you once again, preventing you from landing straight into him.

"Whoa, hey, are you okay?" he asked, brows knitting in a frown, "take a second."

"Yeah, um, yeah, I'm good," you managed to get out, even as heat suffused your face. "Just need to get changed, uh, can't imagine either of us want to the team to find me like this."

"Right."

He was still frowning, and you wanted nothing more than to kiss away the harsh lines of his forehead, but you were sure he wouldn't appreciate the gesture. 

You made a beeline for your office, the door's thud barely registering over pulsating rush in your ears. God, you were so screwed.

taglist: @chronicallybubbly @aremuslupinsimp @sky2nd @thisisdaisytrying @ryswritingrecord

[hellyeahsickaf]

The way addicts and chronically ill people are dehumanized is so exhausting

The normalization of this shit in medical and casual settings is genuinely mind boggling. Addicts and disabled people go through so much bullshit. I've dealt with many fucked up doctors when I just needed help

I had a kidney infection, some months back. This is always extremely medically urgent, and I was likely only hours from sepsis. I went to the hospital reporting my pain to be a 9/10. 9 because my 10 was gallstones. I experienced severe malpractice at the hospital and the doctor reported exams that never occured and false information while making me wait with nothing more than tylenol to hold me over (didn't touch the pain) and bring my fever down but that's a whole other story

They did however, deny me the pain medication I needed until it was time to go home. I'm deathly allergic to NSAIDS, but that's something an addict might say so they witheld pain relief because they'd rather me suffer just in case I'm a different kind of sick. An entire night, maybe 6 hours in the ER and they couldn't give me anything, not a small dose of morphine or one norco even a few hours prior to take the edge off of the pain while I was curled up shaking and crying. Just in case I was an addict looking for my fix, and my suffering was just withdrawals and good acting. In that case maybe I deserved it and should be denied my humanity. God forbid in that case I'm so desperate to alleviate unbearable withdrawals that I spend all night in the ER crying. Not the first time I've experienced red tape just to get relief from excruciating pain

But whatever. As per protocol I was asked to follow up with my pcp. So a few days later I called to set an appointment, but I'd also run out of norco and desperate to relieve the pain I asked if I could be filled even enough for a few days, until the pain was bearable. I had difficulty walking, laying down, and I again, can't take most pain relievers. The receptionist was nice and understanding, actually got me in touch with the doctor because she wanted me to be able to get my refill. Probably heard the pain in my voice even. She believed me

She transfers me over to the doctor and I tell him I'd like a follow up and ask if he could fill my painkillers. I would've acceped a no from him, I just needed my follow up. He asked about my condition, I told him my diagnosis and how much pain I was in

And he laughed.

Got a real hoot out of it, like he had me all figured out. Like he caught me trying to cheat the system. I must be trying to get high or make some money with a few days worth of norco as i'm nearly in tears from the pain even while calling

He tells me through his laughter "I don't prescribe painkillers for 'kidney infections'" saying it with a mocking emphasis on those words, as if I'd said "stubbed toe". Follows with "Yeah haha, bye." and hangs up on me. No follow up like I called for. Needless to say I no longer have a pcp but truly if he thought I was an addict trying to take advantage of him he should have still treated me professionally. Maybe not cackled when I said my pain was excruciating for a start

I just don't understand why the hell so many doctors can be so apathetic to people's suffering. Addicts deserve better and so do disabled people- whether you think they're addicts or not. The assumption that we're lying, trying to trick them and are feigning pain to do it is disgusting, listening to your patients is so important. And if that were the case they could have some sympathy and ask themselves what it would take for someone to go those lengths, take such drastic measures and go through that trouble to obtain those substances.

Addiction is not a moral failing. Many disabled and chronically ill people unfortunately rely on medications that have addictive properties. About 80% of heroin addicts first misused prescription drugs. However only about 4-6% of those addicted to prescription drugs switch to things like heroin. And instead of help or compassion for people who just need help (addicts or not), they just figure we're one in the same and treat us like subhuman degenerates, leeches on society. And I think people need to change how they view addiction. Doctors need to change how they view addiction

[clauscielo]

✧ yearning

pairing: joel miller & reader, arthur morgan & reader.

warnings: angsty. self-conscious, touch starved men. age difference, slight nsfw for joel.

requests are open!

joel looked at himself over and over again in the mirror. it had been so long since he'd cared about his appearance… last time he'd worried about looking good was in his teens. he would've laughed if someone had told him a few years ago that he'd be worrying about this again.

but here he was. looking at himself with contempt. his wrinkles, his gray hairs… the bags under his eyes, his teeth, his skin marred by sun and survival. and when, somehow, he finally managed to find himself..., not necessarily attractive, but halfway acceptable, he'd then look at you and his whole world would fall apart.

you were beautiful.

no matter how hard he looked at you, he couldn't find a single flaw. in some conversations you had mentioned some insecurities you had, but he was unable to understand them. you were just perfect.

“are you okay? you were taking so long,” you said, concerned. and he just stared at you, pained, analyzing every detail of your face, comparing it to his own.

“i'm fine. let's go,” he replied with a heavy sigh. his voice quivered slightly, perhaps from the effort he made carrying his backpack, or from something else.

he had long ago realized his feelings for you. normally he wouldn't care about feeling something for someone, attraction, or whatever. but this was different. he wanted you, deeply. he drooled over you. every night, he closed his eyes, imagining how your bare body would look, how your bare breasts would be, how it would feel to be inside of you. god, he hated himself for it, but he loved to fantasize about you before he went to sleep, the image of you being the last thing on his mind before he drifted off to sleep, sometimes even conjuring up dreams that were exquisite to him.

but when morning came, he could hardly look you in the eye. he felt disgusted, ashamed. you trusted him, and joel felt as if he was betraying you, with all these thoughts of his.

you were too young for him. you were too naïve for things to work out between you two. you were… too good for him.

and yet, he still allowed himself the luxury of watching you sleep when you rested next to him some nights, leaning against his shoulder, your lips half-open, soft little snores escaping from them. he loved you. he really did.

“you get some rest,” he whispered, stirring on the couch, a little restless. the scent of your hair flooded his nostrils, he closed his eyes and let his head fall back. he wasn't sure he could take much more of this.

“joel…” you snuggled a little more against him. “take me to bed…?” you whispered, half asleep, if not completely asleep.

“ah… sure,” he murmured. he carried you in his arms and gently, laid you on your bed. you opened your eyes a little and as he looked at you, he felt like kneeling before you and begging your forgiveness, for all the things he craved with you, for being so nasty and for never being enough.

“don't go,” you asked, your voice low. and he nodded, his gaze low with guilt.

“i won't, baby,” joel said, his voice barely a whisper, “i won't.”

you hated washing dishes. you preferred anything to this. you didn't know why, but it disgusted you terribly. the remains of breakfast mixing with the remains of lunch and dinner under water and soap... and when you touched some lump of unknown origin without wanting to, you panicked. was there anything worse than this?

being in a gunfight, maybe. you weren't so sure either.

whenever it was your turn to do the dishes, you procrastinated longer than it actually took you to clean them. you'd spend a whole hour whining, dreading the moment you'd have to face such a horrible, excruciating task. and then it would only take you fifteen minutes to get it done. it was the same thing, every time.

so arthur, whenever he got the chance, helped you. almost every time, he stood in for you, he cleaned up while you stood by his side, chattering about whatever nonsense, his gaze lost in your smile, his mind in the sound of your voice.

and of course, every time he got you off the dishes, you were so effusive with your words and gestures of gratitude.

“i sure do ‘ppreciate this, arthur. thank ya kindly,” you sighed, stroking his arm and squeezing it a little. he relaxed under your touch, a goofy grin creeping across his face, his cheeks warming.

he felt like a complete idiot. a young lady as pretty, as cheerful, as deep and intelligent as you, with a bitter simpleton like him? it was ridiculous. it would never happen.

his smile faded as he stared at the dishes he was washing. his chest ached at the thought that he could never be honest with you, could never touch you, hold you, whisper the words of love he thought every time he looked at you. he was disgusted with himself for being so attracted to someone like you. what the hell was he thinking?

arthur would do anything to make you happy. and it might seem stupid, but seeing you so relieved and grateful for something he did, even if it was as silly as washing the dishes, made him feel... important. important to you. and he loved it when you stayed by his side while he did it, telling him your stories, your thoughts.

he just wanted you to love him. and he liked to fantasize that you did, every time you touched him, every time you smiled at him, every time you got close to him because you wanted to and not because you had to.

“thank ya so much, arthur. you're the best,” you told him, with a coy smile, watching him dry his hands after he had washed each and every one of the dishes. he smiled sadly. he didn't want this brief moment with you to end.

“thank ya? the hell ya mean? that’ll be five dollars,” he replied, jokingly. you laughed.

“how ‘bout one little kiss? that enough for ya?” you asked.

he turned red and stammered, surprised by your answer.

“and what good would a kiss from you do me?” he replied, defensively, flustered. but when he saw your smile fade, morphing into an expression of embarrassment, he regretted it. “i’m sorry. didn’t mean it like that. just caught me off guard,” he muttered.

you giggled, stood on tiptoe, and planted a sweet kiss on his cheek.

[buttercandy16]

Betrayal

PAIRING: Agatha Harkness x Reader

SUMMARY: The reader is heartbroken and finds comfort in the arms of her best friend.

Or who betrayed who...

WARNING(s): Cheating, manipulation, and a whole lot of SMUT.

A/N: My fixation for this woman is just unhealthy and I'm loving it. Enjoy!

Y/N POV

"The day we met was the day I was no longer a man of my own because from that very moment I surrendered myself to you and you alone, my Y/N. " 

Those were the exact words that my beloved husband said to me during our wedding vows. The words that made me feel like I was the luckiest woman alive… not until now.

Greg looks so handsome when he smiles, the way his eyes disappear with such mirth. Especially right now as he dances, swaying his body to the rhythm of the music. He's not really a fan of dancing but he tried it for me because he knew how much I love dancing, it made me feel special. But now as I watch him do exactly what I had originally thought he'd only do for me, with another woman nestled intimately between his arms made me realize that I wasn't as special as I thought I was. 

The way he dances is so much better than how he used to as if he's been doing this for some time now. I originally thought the reason why he's been coming home late was due to his busy work schedule because that's exactly what he's been telling me, I guess I was wrong.

My husband is no longer mine alone…

Tears silently streamed down my cheeks unnoticed as I willed myself to turn away from the scene that turned my world upside down…

The moment I went inside my car that's when all hell broke loose. I screamed and screamed until my throat felt raw and scratched while banging my fists against the wheel. 

Cursing his name for the lies, cursing him for the promises, and cursing him for causing me the most excruciating pain I have ever felt in my life.

My heart feels like it has been punctured a million times over by tiny pins. It stings at first, but now it feels as if they’ve left me numb, not even slightly painful, just numb. 

How could he do this to me? How could he cheat on me and throw years of marriage into the dust as if it meant nothing?! I gave him everything, I fully surrendered myself to him without reserve as I thought he would do the same to me… oh how wrong I was… 

I cried even harder just thinking of his betrayal but I was also starting to panic as I felt my chest constrict, making it difficult for me to breathe.

Damn asthma…

I looked through my bag for my inhaler, but it was not there. The panic and lack of air drove me to start gasping, breathing as if the oxygen had been sucked from the air around me.

I clumsily grabbed my phone and dialed the first person I could think of at this dire moment. 

After the final ring, I immediately spoke before the woman on the other line had the chance with labored breaths.

"A-agatha… I need you, please."

"Y/N? What's going on? Where are you? Are you hurt?" Despite the buzzing in my head and wheezing from my chest I can still hear the urgency and worry in her voice as she spewed one question over another. 

"Ha-hades Den… please hu-hurry. Can't breathe." I stuttered through the desperate sobs that left my lips, alerting the woman in the other line even more.

"Hades Den? The dance studio? I'll be there as fast as I can, just be somewhere safe and stay on the line with me." Agatha instructed but I could barely hear anything she was saying as I struggled to control my breathing. With my hands cold and shaking I accidentally let go of my phone making it fall next to the pedals.

"Sweetheart? Hey, I'm on the road right now. Hello? Are you still there? Y/N? Please answer me, you're gonna give me a heart attack!"

Already my thoughts were becoming jumbled like I was in a nightmare. Without uttering another sound the side of my face met the tinted window as darkness overtook my vision and my eyes closed.

_=_=_

Not really knowing how long I was out when I was suddenly jolted from my position when the door opened and I fell into the arms of my best friend who without a doubt caught me safely in her arms.

"Oh my God! Y/N!! What happened to you?!" Agatha asked worriedly.

I clung to Agatha’s arms as she helped me out of my car. She held an inhaler to my lips and I immediately took a puff, holding it in for a count of four before slowly expelling the air that tasted of chemicals. It was kinda bitter really, but after so long with asthma, I had come to associate it with easier breathing and so in a weird sort of way I liked it. Agatha put the cap back on the inhaler and jammed it deep into her pocket.

"Ho-how did you know I needed that?" I asked.

"We've known each other since we were teens, sweetheart, I'm fully aware whenever my best friend is having an asthma attack."

One of her hands kept me balanced while the other one cradled the side of my face trying to get a glimpse of my eyes.

The moment our eyes met I could see my reflection in her beautiful blue orbs, and I looked exactly like how I felt…  like shit… making me release another stream of tears down my cheeks.

"Sweetheart, please tell me. What happened?" she worriedly asked again while wiping my tears off with her thumb.

I couldn't really tell her at the moment, I just wanted to get out of here.

"Take me away, please" I softly begged, my voice barely a whisper but I knew she heard me as understanding can be seen in her eyes. 

She gently guided me towards the passenger seat of her car and put my seatbelt on me before settling on the driver's seat.

"I'll call someone to drive your car home," she informed me, I softly nodded in response. I leaned my head to the side of the window with my eyes closed as Agatha drove off away from the studio, away from my cheating husband.

_-_-_ 

"Y/N, wake up. We're here."

I woke up to Agatha's face close to mine as she gently shook me awake.

I was a little bit startled by how close her face was to mine, it was so close that I could feel her breath gently caress my cheek.

"U-um… okay," I gulped nervously, she only smiled before getting out of the car.

Surveying my surroundings, that's when I realized that she brought me to her house.

Agatha opened the door for me and gently took my hand in hers to assist me, leading me inside her humble abode.

Once inside the house, I was met with silence. Too quiet for what I was used to.

"Where’s Nicky?" I asked curiously as I sat down on the sofa while she disappeared to the kitchen.

"Nicky is having a sleepover with his friends. I also gave the staff some days off so it's just us here," she explained, coming back to me with a tray of water and alcohol.

"Alcohol?"

"I have a feeling we're gonna be needing it" she smiled mischievously before turning serious.

"So… are you gonna tell me what happened or should I play the guessing game?" she asked while pouring me a glass of expensive scotch.

"Greg." uttering his name leaves a bitter taste on my tongue. Much more bitter than the alcohol that I'm currently pouring down my throat.

"What's wrong with your husband?" Agatha asked while taking a sip from her glass.

"He's cheating on me."

Shock and disbelief painted Agatha’s face, while I tried my best to keep my tears from falling.

"You're kidding."

"I can assure you I'm not, I saw it with my own two eyes."

As Agatha sat there in shock, she laid it on heavy. "I told you he was no good! He is nothing but a cheating bastard!" After a breath, she continued, "He was never good enough for you anyway." Agatha’'s words rang true as my world started to fall apart.

Finally, I looked up with tears in my eyes asking, "What do I do? Leave him?"

Agatha doesn't even hesitate, "Hell yes! He doesn't deserve someone special like you."

I just sat and listened to whatever Agatha has to say as well as getting a little too deep with the alcohol consumption.

"You see, sweetheart, men like Greg are like damn leeches that suck the life from anything they come in contact with. He doesn't deserve an angel like you." she said with such seriousness which actually made me giggle a bit despite everything, probably because I'm getting really tipsy. I'm also starting to believe every word that comes out from her luscious red lips… 

Wait, What the hell am I thinking?!

I shook my head trying to get these… Um...weird thoughts about my best friend's kissable lips and what they probably taste like.

Arghh!!  What the hell brain?!

"Hey, are you alright?" Agatha looked at me as if I've grown two heads on the spot, which made me blush out of embarrassment. 

"Ye-yeah… Sorry… I'm getting a little too tipsy." I mumbled before getting up from the spot, which was a bad move since I lost my balance and fell backward into Agatha's lap.

"Well, this is comfortable" Agatha smirked as she wrapped her arms securely around my waist which only brought more blood flowing through my cheeks.

"A-agatha what are you doing?" I asked while trying to get her hands off me but failed miserably. She only laughed at my attempts and I was starting to get irritated not until I felt her warm lips softly pressed against my nape.

I went completely rigid from the contact, breath hitching, and my mind running wild with what the hell is going on.

"Is something wrong?" Agatha asks with a grin plastered on her face.

"N-nothing." I stuttered back to her.

Oh god, what do I do?!

"Are you sure? You seem a little flustered. Especially when you were eyeing my lips minutes ago" she asks before pausing, "It's as if you have been thinking of doing something with them."

"Agatha, I... I can explain." I tried to argue, yet I had no argument in my head.

"No need to, I understand. I've wondered for a very long time how your lips would taste as well," she whispered next to my ear. Her breath tickles my now sensitive skin.

Before I could react I felt Agatha's hand on my arm, I almost jumped out of my skin.

"Why don't we stop this little game," Agatha says, bringing her hand to my chin and making me look into her burning blue eyes, "And just… Give… In."

Oh my god! What should I do? This is so wrong.

"That's enough Agatha. I don’t want that and you won't speak to me like this any longer. I’m not like you… I’m not into women and married.”

"We both know that’s a lie,” Agatha whispered, and I watched as my best friend's hands moved to the buttons of my shirt. I could only watch her playing with it, slowly unbuttoning it one by one. "I think you do want it… In fact, I think you're deeply curious about it. You know I can treat you better, and make you feel even better than any man could."

"Aggie..." I went to protest.

"Shhhh." She whispers to interrupt me.

Frozen in my place, I was helpless to simply watch as my childhood best friend now fully unbuttoned my shirt. Her soft, slender hands move to the inside and effortlessly start to push the shirt to the side, exposing just a little of my bare skin.

"Give in, pet. Let your curiosity run wild" Agatha whispers.

My gaze meets her's, her soft lips smiling back at me as I feel soft fingertips running against my skin.

That's when I decided to surrender myself to this gorgeous woman holding me.

In a smooth and quick motion, Agatha pushes the shirt and it falls over. Only being held up by my arms, yet now my front body was fully on show. Wearing just a lace push-up bra, I remained still as Agatha's fingertips continued to explore my body.

 "Do you like it when I touch your body like this?"

Oh god, please help me.

"Y-yes." I stuttered back, closing my eyes as goosebumps appeared all over my body.

Knowing that I was losing control of myself.

She smoothly moved her head forward, her soft, delicious lips ever so slightly brushing against my ear as she whispers in the most seductive of tones.

"Does it feel good baby?"

"I...I....I..." I stuttered back, not being able to speak.

Closing my eyes and feeling Agatha’s warm breath on my ear makes my legs feel like jelly. I can already tell that my warmth is absolutely soaked.

Her hands explored my back and found their way to my bra strap.

"Cat got your tongue?" She whispers into my ear, her tongue slightly leaving her mouth and licking my ear lobe.

I gasped out loud.

My bra strap was unhooked. Pulling her head back, Agatha’s face was filled with joy as she kept a hold of the bra and pulled it back and off my body.

My body, no longer fighting any of Agatha's advancements allowing her to remove my bra, now sitting with my breasts on show.

With a slow movement, Agatha cups my right breast. Slowly playing with it, she flicks her thumb over the nipple over and over.

"Ooohh." I accidentally moan, my legs feeling weak beneath me.

"Do you like that?" Agatha whispers.

"Y-yes," I whispered back.

She continued to play with my nipple in her hand, knowing that I will soon be too far gone to turn back.

"What about this?"

My eyes were wide open in shock and a gasp escaped my lips as Agatha swiftly laid me on my back on the sofa while she hovered over my flushed body. She didn't waste any time and moved her head forward, her soft, plump lips landing around my nipple. Her wet tongue comes out and flicks it, running around in small circles.

I can't stop myself from letting out soft moans, my nipples have always been my weak point. As I looked down at Agatha’s soft dark hair, feeling her tongue playing with my nipple my legs begin to squirm.

She sucks on my nipple and nibbles down on it with her teeth.

"Oooohh." I moaned louder.

"Aggie, this is wrong." I panted out weakly.

"Yet, here we are," Agatha says, giving one last lick before pulling her mouth away. Keeping her hand on my breast, I feel like she had me lying here forever. "Why are you fighting this?" She asks.

Her hand pulls away from my breast. Just when I thought it might be over, Agatha’s hand returns softly to my pants-covered thigh. Instinctively, I slightly opened it and allowed my best friend's hand to run between them, ever so slowly getting closer and closer to my center.

Finally reaching it, she popped off the button and inserted her hand inside my pants, gave my warmth a slow rub from outside my underwear, and whispered.

"Why are you so wet?"

"I.... don't know." I tried to think of an answer but my mind is somewhere else.

"Hmmm… I think you do know. It's because you want this… need this…" Agatha pushed my underwear to one side; she easily slid one finger knuckle deep inside of my drenched warmth.

"Oooohhh." I moaned, biting down on my lip.

"Am I right, baby?." Agatha whispers, arching her finger inside my warmth, rubbing against my G-spot.

"Ooooh god." I moaned louder, closing my eyes and allowing myself to be fingered right here in my best friend's living room.

My head is a mess, the pure pleasure coming from Agatha's finger just increases when she easily pushes a second finger inside and perfectly hits my G-spot.

"Answer me, Y/N," Agatha demanded.

"Yyyyeesss." I moaned out in pure ecstasy.

"Yes, what?" She asks with a smile, knowing she had me where she wanted me.

"Yes, I want it," I said firmly, opening my eyes and staring at her beautiful face.

This spurred her to increase the pace of her fingering.

"Yes!" I moaned over and over, my G-spot getting hit by her amazing fingers.

"Good," Agatha says firmly and pulls her fingers out of my warmth, "Let's take this to the bedroom."

I know I should stop this, deep down I know this is wrong and that this can only end badly. But right now, I was no longer thinking with reason.

"Okay," I whispered.

She grabbed my hand and led me to her bedroom.

Finally, in the room, she shuts the door before sitting on the bed.

"Take off your underwear," Agatha commanded.

Not speaking, I bent over and pushed my underwear off. Now standing completely naked, by choice, in front of my best friend.

"Come sit next to me."

Sitting down, we stared at each other. For a moment, thinking of what is about to happen made my body almost shaking with excitement.

Agatha’s hand appeared on my thigh and once again instinctively I opened them. Her fingertip moves to my swollen clit.

"Oh god..." I gasped. Looking her dead in the eyes as she slowly massages my clit, sending so much pleasure throughout my body.

As my breathing gets heavier and heavier, my legs begin to twitch from every flick of Agatha's finger.

Not being able to control myself any longer, I moved my head forward and captured Agatha's lips with mine. Savoring her cherry-flavored chapstick.

As our kiss deepens, her fingers move faster on my clit making my legs twitch from pleasure.

My hand started to explore Agatha's body, caressing with such gentleness and sensuality. Landing my hand on her thigh, I gripped it tightly as I could feel myself nearing my release but before it reached that point, Agatha suddenly pulled her hand away from my aching warmth, making me whine in frustration.

Stopping the kiss, I stared at her in confusion. But before I could say anything she placed her fingers on my mouth and pushed it in, making me taste my arousal. It was divine…

With the combination of alcohol and pure lust burning through my system, I began to suck on her fingers as if they were a lolly whilst staring into her eyes, making her groan in approval.

The moment my mouth left her fingers, Agatha stood up and undressed with such speed I could barely process how she did it, but here she is now completely bare for me to see and worship.

I was still sitting on the edge of the bed when Agatha gently straddled me, our naked chests deliciously pressing against each other.

She grabbed my head and held it just inches away from hers, staring at each other's eyes.

"Touch me," She ordered.

Not having to be told twice, my hand goes to her smooth warmth which is just as wet as her own. With ease, I pushed my index finger inside and started to rub it against Agatha's G-spot.

"Ohhh yes!" She moans loudly. She looks down at herself fingering me whilst I fingered her. Looking back up we moaned in unison.

"Oh fuck yes!" Agatha moans out, pushing in to kiss me hard as the two of us finger each other.

This continues for a few minutes, each of our moans growing louder and louder.

"Lie down on your back baby," Agatha instructed as she pulled away from me. I was so close to my release but didn't mind it one bit for I was more than excited about what was to come next.

Lying down flat, I watched as she parted my legs and began kissing slowly up to the insides of my thighs.

She went closer and closer to my warmth until it was staring directly at her.

I turned red as a tomato as I saw how Agatha looked at my warmth, she was looking at it as if she wanted to devour it.

"Beautiful," she whispered and slowly moved forward.

Her tongue pushed inside of me and tasted my nectar. With her eyes closed, she explored my warmth. I can feel her running her tongue up and down my soft lips. In and out of my hole before finally reaching my throbbing clit.

"Mmmmm yes!" I moaned when Agatha's tongue first flicked my clit.

The way she was looking at me right now made everything so much hotter, and with it, a moan left my lips.

Agatha moaned back before getting her tongue back onto my sensitive clit.

"Don't stop,”

I slowly started to grind my warmth back and forth on Agatha's eager tongue.

My legs were spread wide, accepting the finger fucking in my warmth as the sound of my juices filled the room.

"Mmmmmm! A-aggie… I'm close.”

"You want to cum all over my face, baby? You want to cum on your best friend's face?" Agatha moaned but didn't even give me a chance to reply when her hands gripped my thigh firmly and in one quick motion slid her fingers knuckle deep into my tight, dripping warmth.

"AGATHAA!!!" I screamed out in pure pleasure and arched my back as my warmth flooded over Agatha's face. An earth-shattering orgasm wrecked my body over and over again.

As my body carries on shaking as my orgasm slowly dies down, Agatha, still hooked on my delicious warmth, carries on licking me, lapping up every drop of cum as she can while continuously she fingers my overstimulated warmth.

"Agatha, stop." I panted out, feeling too sensitive after cumming.

"Just one more, baby. Give me one more." She coos, with her words I screamed as my second orgasm was ripped from me. This time squirting all over my best friend's face and soaking the silk sheets that she shares with her wife. The taste of my sweet release on her tongue, and the magnificent sight of me squirting was too much for Agatha, making her cum hard with a primal moan.

After cleaning my warmth with her tongue she sits to the side and just stares at me with a beautiful smile on her face, looking quite proud of herself. I can see my juice dripping from her chin and some still glossing her lips which she seductively licks with her tongue, while her eyes are devouring mine.

What a sight…

She starts to slide her fingers around my lips. The fingers that were just in my warmth.

"Mmmm." I moaned as I happily took them into my mouth before her fingers were replaced with her soft lips.

Our lips parted before staring deeply into each other's eyes. All I could see in her eyes was pure admiration, desire, and…love?

"You're mine now, sweet thing, and I will not let anyone come in between us… never again." She whispered before gathering me into her arms with my head resting on her chest.

Her words ring inside my head, but I find myself loving the idea of being with Agatha, not quite processing the last part of her declaration which I gladly dismissed. All I can think about is that she wants me to be hers, and that made me feel like the whole damn zoo was having a party inside my tummy.

"Yours" I softly whispered with a bright smile on my face.

For a few minutes, we just both laid there basking in each other's warmth in silence. The smell and taste of my release filled our senses, and the room itself. It was the last thing my mind processed before letting sleep take me into the arms of my new lover.

_=_=_

It was a little before 11 pm when I pulled into the garage of my mansion, a mansion I share with my cheating husband. Thinking about it should've still made me feel bad, but that wasn't the case anymore. Because all I can ever think about the moment I left Agatha's home was her touches, kisses, and sweet words that she constantly whispered in my ears.

I came in the door a bit tired from the earlier activities but with a glowing smile still etched on my face. I set my bag and jacket on the kitchen table before I saw Greg eagerly enter the living room and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw me. "Wow, honey, you...you look glowing."

I just smiled a wicked little before answering in a slightly snarky tone. "Oh, thanks, honey."

If only you knew how I got this glow…

"Where have you been? I've been calling your phone non-stop but you weren't answering. I was so worried." Greg said, his voice raw with worry.

Getting fucked by my best friend in a much better way than you'd ever could… no biggie. I wish I could say these words out loud but I did my best to refrain from doing so, instead, I went into acting mode.

"Oh, I'm so sorry hon. I forgot my phone in my car. I was with Agatha the whole time, and well, we got busy…so busy that the time completely slipped my mind." I explained with my most convincing voice.

You cheating bastard don't deserve a single damn explanation from me, but I'll play your game, Greg… just for the kick of it.

"Well, I'm just glad you're home safe and sound. By the way, I have a surprise for you. I know I've been really busy lately, but I want to make it up to you tomorrow night."

"Oh, that's nice," I answered, not overly excited but still kept on indulging him.

"And to celebrate the anniversary of our marriage, maybe even a bigger surprise for you. I learned to dance." Greg happily announced, I on the other hand am confused as hell.

Shit, I didn't even realize the date for tomorrow is our anniversary. At that moment, Greg stepped toward me, pulled me in, and waltzed with me a few steps. While we danced, he said, "I have been taking lessons twice a week. I know I am no expert dancer, but I wanted to do this for you. I even have reservations for us."

I continued moving with Greg, my eyes wide and in shock as my mind started to spin. I suddenly stopped and just stood there. All I could think was 'this can't be. There is no way it was just dancing. He was cheating on me. He had to be cheating on me.' I had tears streaming down my face as I thought of what I had done earlier.

"Honey, I also took the liberty of buying the dress you saw last week when we went to the mall. I know it's a big surprise but we have all night to dance the night away." I was in shock as I continued to stare at him. And all I could ask is, "How?"

"Well, it wasn't easy. About two months ago, I was talking with Agatha, and I was saying how I wanted to do something big like learn to dance. She said she knew someone who offers dance lessons. So, for a week during lunch, we would work on a few basics in my office. Then, we progressed to going out dancing every Tuesday and Thursday at Hades Den, the dance studio. I invited my dance instructor and her fiancé to join us. I thought I owed them a nice night out after how helpful they have been. I'm so glad Agatha managed to keep it from you, I made her swear not to, so the surprise won't be spoiled. I was quite shocked since we both know she can't even keep a secret." Greg chuckled.

Hearing Agatha's name was enough to snap me out of my trance, "A-agtha knew?"

"Oh, she more than knew. She knows all about the entire plan. Sometimes she'd go to Hades den to make sure I'm progressing. Your best friend really wants the best for you, she's a gem. You're so lucky to have her in your life, in our life."

My mind started racing, and my breathing was getting shallower with every second that passed by. Greg saw this and immediately ran to my bag and grabbed my inhaler.

No… no… this can't be true…this can't be true. It doesn't make any sense… why would Agatha keep this… Agatha lied… she lied… and then she seduced me… we fucked… Greg never cheated… Agatha knew… we fucked… Greg didn't cheat… But I did… I cheated… I'm the cheater and not Greg… I cheated…

My mind was in jumbles as Greg placed the inhaler on my lips asking me to open my mouth… but I don't think I want to… I wanna drown in this asthma and just die on the spot.

Tears streamed down my cheeks as the feeling of guilt and betrayal started to eat me whole. My husband's worried voice feels like a faraway echo, as my mind is consumed by one question.

Agatha… What did you make me do?

_=_=_

Please don’t forget to like, repost, comment, and follow!! It helps boost motivation, lol.

[wittlesissyb4by]

I'm not sure how many days its been.

34? 58? 167? There's no telling. The blindfold blocks out most of my sense of time. I used to measure it based off of diaper changes, by my count I got one every 12 hours or so, but I lost track of that a long time ago too. You would think being confined to a cage with little else to do would keep your mind focused, but if anything it's the opposite.

I'm in a haze most of the time, alone with my thoughts. Thoughts of how I traipsed the internet all hours of the day, begging, pleading for someone to make me their little diaper slave. I thought it was what I wanted, I really did, but they always say the reality is never as good as the fantasy.

I wish I would have believed them.

My day (or what I think is a day) usually starts with a kick to the kennel to wake me up. I'm let out, and allowed to stretch my legs a bit while I fumble around in the darkness of the immovable blindfold. My diaper is given a firm and thorough groping, whatever its contents are get mushed and squished and played with. It all makes me groan as my cock screams inside its cage.

Usually, my gag is removed, and something else is placed in my mouth. Sometimes it's a bottle of disgusting formula, which I'm sure is laced with laxatives, because I usually spend several hours groaning and defiling my diaper afterwards. I also wouldn't be surprised if there's Viagra in there too, because my cock always gets stiff and presses into the excruciating spikes inside my chastity device. Every now and then I'm given solid foods, just not anything I have to chew. I never know what array of mush will enter my mouth, but it's rarely ever appetizing.

Sometimes my mouth is filled with Master's cock. Actually, a lot of times. He really enjoys me servicing him, which, I guess is what I wanted, but he tends to be rather rough on my throat, and must really enjoy the sounds of me gagging. Several times he's brought over several men for me to service, they take great joy in fucking my face as well.

I'm always so thankful when my diaper gets changed. At least for a little bit, because I know something is going to end up in my ass, it's just a question of what. I'm always thankful when I feel the warm flesh of Master's member enter me. If it's not, it's usually something much bigger (and his dick is already big) and much more uncomfortable. The toys get larger and larger each time, I'm surprised how much I can take at this point. If i'm lucky, Master will let me fuck myself against it until I cum inside my cage. But that's only happened exactly three times. Don't worry, I haven't lost track of that one.

From there, it kind of varies. Master must run some sort of vlog because I constantly hear dings and pings and he always talks about what the 'viewers' want before subjecting me to more and more depraved acts. Let's just say my dirty diapers don't always make it into the pail, and my blindfold isn't the only thing blocking my sense of sight sometimes.

Overall, I miss my normal life. I miss not having to wear a straitjacket at all times, and having the use of my arms. I miss sleeping spread-eagle on a cushy bed instead of being crammed inside of a cage. Speaking of cages, I miss my cock not shrieking in pain every time it tries to get an erection. I miss using the toilet, which I never thought I'd say. I loved using my diapers before this, but that was before I knew how bad diaper rashes could be. I miss daylight. I miss steak. I miss not constantly having a sore throat. I miss...everything.

What I thought I wanted was nowhere even close to this. So, though it has been said many a time, I mean this from the bottom of my soiled diaper:

Be careful what you wish for.

[lure-of-writing]

Kick your ass

Note: Hi everybody long time no see! I would assume that is doesn't come as a surprise when I say being a flight attendant leaves no room for writing much less doing anything else but sleeping but here we are after what I'm sure can be counted as forever. Anyways I feel like this story is when your partner just isn't getting it right and it's driving you crazy and you get a little ( or a lot) sassy. I'm so happy to have finally written something in so long and I hope you love it!

Word count-2.3K

Warnings- none unless you count cussing

Summary: Lately all your mate does is piss you off. And don't get it wrong you love him but you are more than ready to kick his ass.

You love Azriel with all of your heart, your whole being if you're being completely honest but lately he has done nothing but piss you off. It first started with him going on a mission during the middle of your cycle. Since the moment you knew Azirel was your mate you gave clear explicit instructions that Azriel was to be no more than five feet away from you during that time of the year unless it was for something of the utmost importance and could not be handled by anyone else. Imagine your surprise when he started grabbing his leather clothing after he had made you breakfast and had gotten you comfortable in your bed that could fit three grown Illyrian men. 

“And just where do you think you're going?” Azriel could feel like distaste dripping off of your words and hitting him in the back as he was faced away from you. It was no secret that Azriel loved you more than life itself and would do absolutely anything to keep you safe and happy but when you were on your period you could be a handful and more often than not you tested his never ending patience until you actually found the end of its supply. With a slow release of his breath he turns around to find you perched on the edge of the bed throwing an angry glare in his direction. “Listen baby” the shadowsinger slowly approached you like you were a wild animal ready to strike at any moment and honestly that comparison isn’t too far off with the way you look like you're ready to rip his head off of his shoulders. “You know I wouldn’t go unless I had to, yeah?” he kneels before you gently rubbing comforting circles on your bare thigh while giving you a soft smile reserved for only you. “Is the information you retrieve from this mission of that great value?” he watched as you paused waiting for the answer that both he and you already knew. “Is there no one else beneath you who could do it instead?” And while yes there were people beneath him that could handle this task, Azriel is a perfectionist and would like to make sure things get done right. “Is it so important that you must leave your mate during their cycle knowing the excruciating pain I endure? It's so important you must put this before your mate?” 

Azriel knew this conversation was a losing battle on his end but he also knew if he would like to be able to sleep next to you tonight that he must offer something to make up for it. “No my love, there isn’t anyone else who can handle this as they are all busy at the moment but don’t worry I will be back before dinner.”  Even as you glowered down at him all the shadowsinger could think about was two things. One, he is definitely in trouble and two, how stunning you look. “I don’t care if no one else can do it, get that brute of your brother to handle it.” You waved your hand in a dismissive way as if to send Cassian on this mission yourself and Azriel couldn’t help but lay his head on your legs and laugh and your attitude. 

The next time Azriel made you mad was during a family dinner with the inner circle. At first with all the new people, family dinners were a little awkward and unbearable mostly due to Cassians pinning over Nesta and her constant blatant rejection but also because of the middle sister's fascination with your mate. Did she know he was your mate? Yes. Did that stop her from having a crush? Absolutely not.

As you were getting ready to head down to Feyres and Rhysands new house you had made it clear he needed to put his foot down and tell Elain he was not and would never be interested in a relationship with her otherwise you would handle it yourself and Azriel knew that meant you would become your own nasiter version of Nesta and you would tear her down until she couldn’t even look you in the eyes. It may not be the best way to handle her crush but until Azriel when it came to dealing with people who had a crush on him you tended to leave your manners at the door. 

Everything was going well at the river house until you walked into the dinning room with Amren and spot your mate seated next to Elain on one side and Mor on the other side. The whole group could feel the shift in the temperature as it dropped and you gave a cold and pointed stare to your mate. Possessing the same powers as Rhysand you barged into his mind “What the hell is this?” without responding he gently shakes his head in a not right here manner and pleading with his eye for you to just let this go. Silently you take your seat across the table from him and sit next to your high lady and Amren. For the rest of the dinner you say nothing as your pin Azriel to his seat as your seething anger radiates off of you and hits him like a tidal wave over and over again never once giving him a break. 

“Y/n” Azriel had waited until after you had taken your bath and done your fifteen step skin and body care route and had gotten into bed with your current book you picked to read before approaching you. He gently sat down on the bed next to your legs and hopped you don;t make him sleep on the couch tonight.  “I know you're upset with what happened at dinner but it just happened one minute I was talking with Mor and the next Elain was ushering us all in to eat dinner and she just happened to sit next to me.” As he gave his explanation of the night's events you had closed your book and laid it in your lap and nodded silently in understanding waiting for your mate to be done talking. “Is that so?” you asked in a thoughtful way. Now Azriel has been with you long enough to know that tone of voice and that statement should strike the fear of every god into him and it definitely did. “Yes, I promise that's what happened.” Once again you nodded in understanding before tilting your head to the side with a confused look on your face. “So if that's all that happened then why would Elain feel comfortable sitting next to you knowing that you have a mate who cannot stand her crush on you? And didn’t I tell you to make sure Elain knew in no uncertain terms that her fantasy of having a relationship with you was nothing more than a fantasy and if she tried I would kill her?” Azriels heart dropped to his stomach as he listened to you talk, he had known that there was something he needed to do but as soon as he entered the house Cassian gave him a cup of a mysterious alcohol and Rhysand had beckoned him over to fill him in on the status of a mission one of his spies were on. And before he knew it Morrgian had whisked him away to talk about her journey on the continent and the information she had obtained while there and the next thing he knew he was sat between the girl he used to have a crush on and the girl who currently has a crush on him. Candidly he knew he was fucked. 

“Let's go with your version of events like you said they happened shall we? I am going to assume you got too busy with everyone to tell Elain to knock off her childish behavior, which you would have done in a much nicer way because you are you. Then why didn’t you say anything to her when I walked in or better yet why didn’t you get up to sit next to me instead?” As a professional interrogator your mate knew you had just walked him into a trap and for a split second he wondered why you didn’t have his job instead. “Baby you know both of those options would have been rude and probably would have ruined the dinner.” Nodding in fake understanding you inspect your nails giving it a brief second before responding “And you are the shadowsinger of the night court. One of the most feared males in Prythian and you couldn’t muster up the courage to say something to Elain? How ironic is that.” You scoffed and shook your head in a surprised manner and needless to say he ended up sleeping on the couch that night. 

The last straw was watching Azriel train the valkyries and watching them not so subtly drool over your mate. You wouldn’t be one to blame them if they had done so in a respectful way but they were bluntly flirting with your mate right in front of you. One thing you loved about Azriel was how secure he was in your relationship. No one could make him look in the direction that wasn’t you, if someone was trying to flirt with him he didn’t register it unless it was you. And normally you wouldn’t have a problem with that except three girls were currently trying to make a pass at him and he had no reaction. Most would take that in a positive way but not you, you wanted him to shut that down the second it started and make a clear line in the sand on what was expected from the student-teacher relationship amongst him and the Valkyries he was training. “Azriel!” You had barely shouted his name from across the training platform on the house of wind but it felt as if you had. He turned around to see you leaned against the wall with your arms crossed over your chest and face set in a scowl while glaring at him. Turing to look at the trainees before him he instructs them on what to do next before quickly making his way to you. “Yes my love?” he asks in such a hushed and concerned tone that you almost forget what you called him over to yell at him about, but over his shoulder you see one of the girls check him out and suddenly you remembered all over again what it was that you needed to speak to him about. “You need to tell your students to stop checking you out and to close their mouths before they start drooling all over themselves.” Your mate's face scrunched in confusion. Azriel may be an excellent observer but when it came to himself not so much. He couldn’t see his own beauty that was hand crafted from the gods themselves, he couldn;t see how his quiet and standoffish personality drew people in, he couldn't see all of the things that you loved about him could all be the reason that other people lust after him. 

His shadows gave him a play by play of what his students had been doing while he wasn’t focused on each person in particular and how you had been brewing in your anger in the corner by yourself. As soon as you put on your fighting leathers this morning Azriel knew he was doomed as it was your ritual to fight each other everyday during training but seeing you in the corner pissed that other people had been checking him out brought his demise to a whole nother level. Azriel subtly glanced down at where your arms were crossed over your chest and he thanked the gods for your outfit. “You sound a little upset, my love.” Once more you send him one of your signature pointed looks “Yeah you would be upset also if the roles were reversed.” He shrugs slightly while tilting his head and wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you closer to his body. “You’re not wrong I would be upset because nobody gets to look at you that way unless it's me.” He pulls you even closer to his body until you’re chest to chest with him and he bends down to whisper in your ear. “Beat me in a match and I will make sure they know I’m no one else's but yours. I'll let you claim me anyway you want, hell I’ll even let you do it in front of them if that will make you feel better.” Both you and Azriel knew the game he was playing at but neither of you cared, well him less than you. You pulled away slightly to look up at your mate and see the smirk resting upon his very kissable looking lips “Sounds like a deal to me because I’ve been wanting to kick your ass all week.” 

The shadowsinger followed behind you with a laugh and he shook his head in amusement while taking in your figure from behind. He watched as you got into your fighting stance and waited for him to do the same. He held his hand up to signal you to give him a moment. Turning around to look at the Valkyries in training he gathered their attention without saying a word. “I think it's about time to see what the last remaining real valkyrie looks light during a fight and maybe then you can aspire to be a fraction of as good as my beautiful mate is.” He turned back around to see you glowing with confidence, determination and love, but also the want to make sure you won his bet. Gods he knew this was going to lead to some great sex after you kicked his ass and he couldn’t be looking forward to it more.

[scar-lie]

Omega Pt. 15 {Natasha}

Summary : Just you and your Alpha being sweet

Pairing : Alpha ! Natasha Romanoff x Omega ! Fem ! Reader

Warning : None other than cuteness

Word count : 1,807

{OMEGA PT. 14} {OMEGA PT. 15} {OMEGA PT. 16}

NO one has permission to repost my work anywhere, if you see it please let me know.

“Nat? Can I borrow you for a few minutes? ”Tony asked when he came in to your room.

"Yeah,” Natasha kisses your forehead, then comes with Tony to one of the meeting rooms where Fury and Maria were, making Natasha frown.

“If you're giving me an emergency mission, I’m sorry, but I'm not going to take it,” Natasha quickly said when she saw them.

“No, we’re not going to give you an emergency mission; don’t worry,” Maria said, giving her a small smile, then extending the brown folder.

“Then what is this? ”Natasha then opened the folder, reading and analyzing every detail in the folder.

“All the information we needed was from the person in charge of the commotion this morning, and—” Maria stopped and looked in fury for him to continue the sentence.

“And we also suspect that this person is the one who’s responsible for attacking Y/N right before you found her.” Natasha quickly stopped reading and looked up at them with wide eyes, shocked until her eyes painted anger and hatred, wanting to kill this person on the file.

“All the information? ”Natasha then read again the file; she’s more invested than before, wanting to study every detail of this person so she could plan the very excruciating pain she’ll do to him.

“That’s all.” With the conformation by Fury, she quickly turned around, closing the file.

“Thank you.” With that, she’s off to your room again, sitting close to you while she reads the files and does research on him while she waits for you to wake up.

“Nat? Nat? "Natasha got woken up when she felt a cold hand on her cheek. She jolted, looking around.

“Y/N? ”Then she looked at you, sitting in your bed with a smile on your face.

"Hi,” you rasp, and Natasha notices how raspy and dry your voice is, so she quickly hands you a bottle of water with a straw.

“Hi, drink up; you needed it,” she smiles back. Sitting on your bed, she then puts her hand on your forehead while you're sipping your water, making you frown and look at her confused.

“What? ”Natasha asked with those cute wondering eyes, so you put your drink on your bedside table, then took her hand that’s going to check your temperature on your neck.

“I’m fine, don’t worry...anyways.” You look around the room, finding none of your pups.

“Where are the pups? ”She then pulled you a little bit to sit behind you, and she pulled your body against her front, making you sigh in relief and comfort.

“Wanda and Yelena wanted aunt time, so they are probably spoiling them with affection.” You nodded and got comfortable in her embrace. Then you saw a folder sitting on your bedside table, so you reached for it.

“What’s this? ”Before you could open the folder, Natasha carefully and delicately took it in your hand, putting it back.

“It’s nothing you have to worry about; it’s just some stupid report.” You sat up and twisted your body to look at her with a frown.

“Then why aren’t you taking care of it? You hate stupid reports. Let me see.” Before you could take the folder again, Natasha stopped you and pulled you back into her, resting her chin on your shoulder while hugging you from the back and sniffing your scent.

“I’ll take care of it later, but for now, I want to cuddle with you.” She then kissed your cheek and tightened her hug on you a little.

“But I want to see the pups,” you pouted, looking at her, and she chuckled when she looked up.

“Ok, stay here; you still need to rest a bit; I’ll get the pups." She kissed your forehead and headed out with the folder.

You smile and rest your back on the head board. You love this side of her that you're only seeing now, and there’s still part of you that doesn’t want to believe it’s real or that this is just temporary, that sooner or later she will run away again and leave you behind with the pups.

Did you expect it? Yes, cause you believe that this will end at some point. After all, she’s Natasha Romanoff. You don’t expect something else or more, but you do know that you’re loving these moments, and you want to cherish them before fate takes them away.

“And here we come! ”Natasha sweetly said while she carried her princess, waving her little hand gently with a smile, then Wanda next, and Yelena doing the same thing, making you chuckle.

“Awwee, how cute! Come to Mommy, cause Mommy missed my little bundle of joys.” You giggle, kissing their foreheads when they sit on your bed.

"Well, Mommy, we missed you too,” Natasha said with her little voice, mimicking a little girl’s voice, so you giggled and took her on Nat’s arm.

"Well, buddy, we will see you later; it’s family time,” Wanda said, putting the pup down beside you, but Yelena paid no attention, planning to stay. But with the stare Wanda gave her, she couldn’t help but look up at her with confusion.

“What? ”She asked, then Wanda pointed to the door, but she just scoffs.

“I’m a family too; you know, witchy, Natasha is my sister,” she said in her thick Russian accent, but Wanda rolled her eyes and took the baby off her and gave it to Natasha.

“Hey, we’re having a nephew and aunt moment,” Yelena whined, but Wanda just dragged her out with her ear, making the blonde whine and cry for the witch to stop.

“Thank you! ”You shouted, and Wanda shouted her welcome.

“Does your aunt’s harass you again, my little one’s, huh? ”Natasha asked, bopping their noses, and you frowned at her.

“What are you talking about, Nat? "She looks up at you with innocent eyes.

“You want me to complain about your aunt’s to Mommy for you, my little one’s?” You playfully roll your eyes when she whispers to them like you can’t hear her, but to be fair, the pups respond to her very well because they make cute little noises.

“Ok, well,” she said, scooping them in her arms and sitting beside me. 

“Well? ”You asked, turning to your right to look at them.

"Well, Aunt Wanda and Aunt Yelena have been harassing them with kisses and pinching their cheeks, but the true crime is that Aunt Yelena keeps biting their cute, chubby thighs and arms, right, my babies? ”You chuckled when they again made noises like they understood what their other mother just said. 

"Oh, didn’t they, huh? ”You act along, then again they make noises, making you cry of happiness internally, so Natasha put them down, even the pups in your hand, and took you in her arms.

“Yes, and aunties even dare to bite their precious cheeks.” You again act, so you gasp, bopping their noses and kissing them.

“How dare they do that to my babies? Don’t worry, Mommy and Momma will take revenge.” Natasha suddenly frozen in her stop and stop caressing the back of your hand that’s been wrapped around you because she’s holding you from behind, so you look back to see if she’s ok.

“Wh-what did you say? "She asked, looking at your eyes. You sigh, thinking this is the end of her act, so you sit up and have a little space between you two.

"Sorry, I didn’t mean to say it.” You give her a tight little smile, and you're growing anxious and uncomfortable, and you don’t want the feeling of it.

“What? No, no, no... I love it; I was just shocked that you wanted me to be their momma—I mean, after what happened, I thought it would take time like years before I earned that title.” She took your hand and kissed it, putting it on her cheek and looking at you.

“I am happy and honored.” You smile at her, and you press your forehead on hers, cherishing this innocent but intimate act.

“I might as well add that Tony keeps squishing their cheeks and kissing them.” You open your eyes, looking up at her and chuckling, but stop when you realize something, and Natasha picks up that you picked up what she said.

“Uhuh, in their faces, I may add.” You sat up and quickly inspected their faces, necks, arms, and just every inch of their little bodies.

“But he has a beard and mustache; they could get rashes or something.” Natasha rubs your arms to calm you down and slowly slides her hand down to yours to stop your inspection.

"Yes, but we made sure they didn’t get anything, so we kept an eye on them; we even got Cho to confirm it.” You sigh in relief, thanking them that they didn’t get rashes from that billionaire; we didn’t even know where that hair went (if you know what I mean). 

“I’m going to kill him,” you mumble, still pissed at what he had done. He can even scratch them, and you have strictly no facial hairs near the baby's skin.

“We will later, but for now, our babies need us,” she said, pointing to them with tired eyes and yawning mouths.

“Ok, feeding time it is,” you mumbled, getting ready to breastfeed them, so Natasha quickly looked away.

“Ok, I’ll give you some privacy.” You frown and take her hand. 

“Stay, I’m just going to breastfeed them, not like I’m going to strip or something, plus you already see it.” She stopped looking at you while thinking and just shrugged.

“Well, whatever, you’re right... and they are beautiful, by the way.” She plopped down on the bed, eyeing your boobs, and you chuckled.

"Can I also get some? I'm hungry to, you know." She gives you puppy eyes, but you glare at her at how vulgar she is.

“Stop it; they can hear you," you said, shaking her head and scrunching her nose.

“Nah, they wouldn’t understand it anyway.” You slap her arm and glare at her.

“Even if you can’t be vulgar around them or any other kids, ok,” you strictly said, giving her the ‘end of discussion’ look and raising an eyebrow.

“Ok, I’m sorry,” she mumbled, afraid of you.

She watched you feed them until they fell asleep, so Natasha took them to their bassinets to let them sleep comfortably, as did you.

And about Tony, well, he learned his lesson after hearing yours and Pepper's lecture. Let’s just say that he spent a couple of thousand gifts to Pepper, you, and mostly to the babies, and he even slept on the couch for the night.

And as he promised, he did shave his facial hair in order to win his intrusive thoughts and satisfy his baby fever phase.

@ahintofchaos @rosea-reginae @marvelogic

[echobx]

Anything - bsf!JJ Maybank × fem!reader

summary: y/n has heavy cramps and proposes that JJ help her out with relieving them

word count: 2.4k

warnings: smut, p in v (unprotected), tw blood mention, oral (fem receiving), simp!JJ, bsf!JJ, light praise kink, foreplay, verbal aftercare

author's note: I'm on my period and horny. that's it. that's literally the only reason why I wrote this.

“Fuck,” you hiss and turn on the couch, holding onto your stomach, clawing at the pain the cramps are causing you. You hate your period, but usually it isn't too bad, that was before your boyfriend broke up with you. Now you are alone at the Château, horny and in excruciating pain. 

“Are you okay?” a familiar voice comes to your ears, and you snap your eyes open. JJ is leaning half over you, his eyebrows furrowed and tongue poking at his cheek. 

“Period,” you press out the word, and he nods, leaning back up. 

“Should I get you something to eat? Chocolate? Or a heating pad?” he asks, and it's too sweet how he wants to help you feel better in all the ways he knows. And when your eyes rake over him, taking in the toned arms and the cut-off shirt, you can feel the heat rise inside you. You knew how hot your best friend is the moment he presented himself to you one summer after you were gone for a few weeks on vacation, and he had stayed home working some job. But you know his body like no other, not all of him, obviously, but you know enough. And right now you're completely controlled by your hormones and the possible consequences are something you don't even take note of. 

“There's something else you can help me with. You can say no,” you tease, and he cocks an eyebrow. 

“You look like you just had the worst and best idea of your life, y/n.”

“Just might,” you smile and sit up, ignoring the new wave of cramps the movement conjured. 

“You gonna tell me?” JJ crosses his arms in front of his chest, and you can't help but gawk at how good he looks, flexing for you. 

“I haven't had sex in three weeks, that's why it hurts so much,” you explain and his face lights up for just a second. 

“And how am I to be of help with that?” He's cocky, and you hate how much it turns you on. 

“You know me better than anyone else, J. You know I wouldn't suggest it if I didn't really need it,” you say and he tilts his head. “Desperately, I might add. Because this hurts and I'm so fucking horny. But I'd understand it if you said no.” 

“What if it changes our dynamic?” JJ ponders and you laugh. 

“The dynamic where they all already think we're fuckin’ because you can't stop fake flirting with me?” 

“All right,” JJ nods and holds his hand out for you to take. This went easier than you expected. 

You place a dozen towels all over the bed, trying to help with the mess you're about to make. And when you're done JJ is right behind you, his chest pressing against your back, fingertips grazing over your arms, and you let out a sigh while falling back into him just so slightly. 

“Are you sure you want this?” he rasps in your ear, and you bite your lip before nodding. 

“Tell me what I'm allowed to do to you, princess,” JJ whispers, and you feel like you're about to fold right then and there. This is new. He had never been like this with you. Seductive and sexy and only focused on you and no one else. 

“Anything,” you breathe, and he chuckles. 

“What if I can't stop once we start this?”

“Then don't stop,” you say while turning around and pulling him into a kiss. He tastes like mint with a faint hint of weed, as if he had tried to cover up by brushing his teeth. But you like it, the fact that he put an effort into it, into making you feel good. 

JJ kisses you as if you are air, and he's suffocating. It's demanding and soft at the same time, and you really don't know how he does it. Entangling your tongues and moaning into you. Pressing his crotch to your body, his hard dick against your stomach. Your hands are tangled in his tousled hair, while his are angling your neck and holding your waist, as if it was always meant to be. 

“Wow,” you hush after he pulled away, unable to look up into his eyes, but you know deep inside that he felt it too. The flutter in your stomach that you hadn't felt in so long, not even for your ex. 

“You wanna get ready here or?” JJ smiles down at you, twirling a strand of hair in his long fingers, and you nod slowly, stepping to the side and vanishing in the bathroom. 

“This the craziest idea you've ever had, y/n,” you whisper to yourself while looking into the mirror. Not only do you not look sexy at all, but you're also not mentally stable enough to make a decision like that. The hold your hormones have over your body is scary, at least a little bit. 

After pulling out the tampon, you leave your underwear and shorts lying on the edge of the tub, only walking back to him in the shirt you were wearing all day long. 

JJ is sitting on the edge of the bed, boxer briefs on, head hanging low as he fidgets with his rings. 

“I'm ready,” you whisper, and you feel like you did the first time you met him. 4th grade, with your tear streaked face and a broken toy in your hands, but he had simply offered you a hug, and you had been best friends ever since. 

“I couldn't find any condoms, so if you wanna stop right here, I'm totally okay with that,” JJ told you, and you had to think about it for a second. 

“I trust you,” you nod and sit down by his side, taking his hand in yours and smiling softly. “It's just two best friends getting impossibly closer to each other than ever before. It doesn't have to change anything,” you remind him, and he nods. “Besides, I'm conscious enough to take my own precautions,” you giggle, and he turns to you with furrowed brows. 

“What that mean?” 

“I'm not planning on making you my baby-daddy. Not tonight at least,” you try your best to look serious, but the grin breaks through and JJ smiles, cupping your cheek and pulling you into a kiss. Maybe you like kissing him too much, because as soon as his lips touch yours, your stomach is flodded with fuzzy feelings and your head goes blank in dizziness. 

“I should fuck you now,” he whispers against your lips, but he doesn't pull away yet. It's as if he's trying to figure something out, and then he kisses you again, and you move back, pulling him with you. It's clumsy and the two of you can't help but laugh as you crawl over the bed, one kiss chasing the next one until you're completely under him. Your legs are propped up around his hips, his hands next to your head as he looks down on you. 

“You can still say no,” he reminds you, and you bite your lip. 

“No. But you can still say no, too.” 

“When's the last time I said no to you, princess,” JJ mumbles, and before you can give him a profound answer, he kisses you another time. Your back arches up, and he unclasps your bra under your shirt. 

“You have too much on,” he growls into your ear, biting your earlobe and making you mewl. You go to sit up and JJ leans back with you, helping you pull the shirt over your head and throwing it onto the floor, the bra following shortly after. And when you wrap your arms around your tits, he chuckles.

“You can ask me to fuck your brains out, but you don't want me to look at your pretty tits?” 

“That's different,” you try to argue, but he kisses you again, taking your hands into his and placing them in his neck. And as soon as your fingers scratch over his scalp, he starts fondling your tits. 

“You have the best fucking tits in the world, y/n. Trust me,” JJ smiles against your lips and kisses you another time. It's as if he has more fun edging you on than actually getting to the point, which was a simple fuck, not a full on make out session. And yet, you don't complain. No one has ever made you feel so beautiful and sexy with a few simple words and kisses, like JJ does. 

He kisses himself down your body, sucking on your nipples, biting the inside of your thighs before burying his face in your cunt and you gasp. 

“Fuck, JJ!” you cry out as he sucks on your clit and brings you so close to an orgasm that you see stars. 

“Anything is a lot of things, baby,” JJ rasps before going back to eating you out. Plunging his long digits in your hot cunt and licking and sucking on your clit until you scream his name in pure ecstasy. 

“You look so gorgeous when you scream my name, baby,” JJ smirks down at you, his face is smeared with your blood, and you think it's the hottest thing you've ever seen. Aside from it, the new nickname causes your stomach to flip and turn, making it impossible to think clearly.

“You got something right there,” you giggle and point at his face. 

“You like it,” he rasps, but picks up one of the towels to wipe himself clean, but his skin remains tainted in a light pink. 

“Just might,” you whisper and pull him down to kiss you while he tries his best to rid himself of his boxers. The faint metallic taste of your blood on his tongue is turning you on even more. 

It's like your hand moves on autopilot when it snakes down between the two of you, grasping his hard dick and pumping him a few times before you push him to your entrance. JJ pulls away to look at you, his thumb tracing your bottom lip, eyes staring right into your soul as he pushes inside you. Your eyes roll back and your back arches as you try to get adjusted to the stretch of him. 

“Oh fuck, y/n,” JJ moans, his forehead falling to yours. It feels too good to be true. It feels like he was made for you. Thick and long and perfect as he pulls out halfway and slams back into you. 

“Feels so good, J,” you moan and claw at his back. 

“So tight, baby,” he grunts, and his hands grope at your tits as he rolls his hips into yours at a deliciously slow pace. “Best pussy in the world.” 

The praises cloud your mind just as much as the slow and deep thrusts he's giving you. And when he looks at you, it's as if you're the only two people on the planet and the world has stopped turning as soon as he found his home inside you. 

“You're so good to me,” JJ whispers and kisses you again, his hands running down to your legs, hooking them around his waist. “My pretty girl,” he moans and fastens his pace. Ramming into you and making the headboard slap against the wall with it. He's rough and you love it. You love to see his primal desire to claim you as his, and you can't see any issues with it. Maybe you had ruined your friendship, but maybe this would be so much better than any friendship or relationship you have ever had before. 

“Fuck, baby, tell me you're close,” JJ panted, the sweaty hair sticking to his forehead. 

“So close,” you moan, feeling the knot in your stomach tighten impossibly as his hand slides down, and he starts rubbing harsh circles on your clit. 

His blue eyes cross with yours one last time as he whispers, “be a good girl and cum for me.” The words go straight to your pussy, clamping down hard around him and screaming his name as you come undone for him. 

“Fuck, you're so beautiful,” JJ moans, and you can feel his thrusts growing sloppier, his dick twitching inside you, and then he fills you up. Stilling deep inside you as he groans and shoots his cum into your heat, fucking it deeper into you with a few sloppy thrusts before he pulls out and falls down by your side. 

“We should've done that way earlier,” you pant and smile up at the ceiling. 

“Uh-huh,” JJ breathes, and you turn your head to look at him. 

“You called me baby,” you whisper. 

“You think I'm fake-flirting with you,” he chuckles and turns his head too. 

“You are.”

“Never,” JJ hushes and kisses you again, but it feels different. Maybe that's what they called post-nut clarity because the way he looks at you feels different, the way he kisses you feels different, the way he says your name feels different. 

“J?” you whisper, his head buried in your neck, sucking on your skin and licking over the mark he left on you before picking up his head to smile at you. 

“Anything wrong?” 

“You know why he broke up with me?” you whisper, and JJ shakes his head. “He said he could no longer compete with you, because you're in love with me, and I would leave him as soon as I found out. He's wrong, right?” 

“Do you want him to be wrong?” JJ asks, and for once you can't read his face at all. 

“I don't know.” 

“He left you because he's scared of a hypothetical, that's fucking stupid. I would never leave you,” he smiles and kisses you again. Pulling away for just a second to smile at you and whisper, “love you too much to let you go.” And the kiss that follows is tender and truly loving, and you don't know what's happened, but you know he's not lying. 

“Are you sure?” you whisper, needing the confirmation that he isn't just playing with you. 

“I wouldn't mind if you lied to me about it. I'd give everything to be your baby-daddy, princess. I've known that since forever,” JJ admits, and your lips form a silent “oh.”

“How are your cramps?” he chuckles, and you furrow your brows, after everything you have completely forgotten how you got yourself into this situation. 

“Better. Way better,” you nod and peck his lips as a small thank you. 

“Good. I'm not gonna pressure you with labels and shit, you know. But I also don't go around fucking just anybody, especially not raw. Just think about it, love,” JJ whispers in your ear before getting up and leaving you lying there, a complete fucked out mess, but at least a happy mess.

please don't copy and/or post my work onto other platforms! ~e©ho

taglist: @redhead1180 @spideysimpossiblegirl @drwstarkeyy @princessmaybank @ijustwantttoread @kys4-20 @immyowndefender @julczimocarz @m2m2m2 @mochimms

[jeongin-lvr]

ᵎ　🍶　⊹ 𝗶𝗻 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗹𝗮𝗽， 𝗒． 𝗃𝖾𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗂𝗇

ᝰ✧ 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀！ 𝗂𝗇𝗇𝗂𝖾 𝗂𝗌 𝗅𝗈𝗐𝗄𝖾𝗒 𝗆𝖾𝖺𝗇，𝗆𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝖼𝗈𝖼𝗄𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀，𝗌𝗎𝖻！𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋， 𝖽𝖾𝗀𝗋𝖺𝖽𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗄， 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝖽𝖺 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿𝗒 𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖾𝗇𝖽， 𝗂𝗆𝗉𝗅𝗂𝖾𝖽 𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗐𝗈， 𝗎𝗇𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗍𝖾𝖼𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗌𝖾𝗑， 𝖼𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗆𝗉𝗂𝖾， 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖾𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗄， 𝖻𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝖺𝗇𝗒 𝗉𝗅𝗈𝗍 ／ 𝖴𝖭𝖤𝖣𝖨𝖳𝖤𝖣

[ 2985 words ] ✩ [ do not repost ] ✩ [ 𝗆．𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍 ]

𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗥𝗬 second felt normal, not a single sound was made, not a single little grunt or whine or moan. His ever-resilient gaze didn't ever wander, not a single part of his face flinched. It made me wonder if I was even plaguing his mind the same way he plagued mine. Every second felt normal if you were only paying attention to his expressionless face, his dangling wrist that equipped a phone like it was a normal day. His eyes never changing to meet mine.

Was I the only one so drunk on lust right now?

I whimpered in his lap, hands shaking as I gripped the collar of his black button up, eyes roaming the soft fabric in desperation. The perforations in his skin from my nails in his neck and chest being the only reminder that this wasn't a dream.

"Stop whining," Jeongin tilted his head, dropping his arm with his phone in hand, eyes on me with boredom. My thighs shook alongside my hands, breathe shaky; yet there he was, face still and body language completely at ease. How was this effect only leaving me scrambled? Why was I the one making a horny fool of myself?

"Nothings even happened yet," My boyfriend mocked, dragging his slender fingers up his shirt, creasing and flattening in patterns. I watched, practically drooling over his teasing movements; completely purposeful, entirely effective, "You're already so cock-drunk, aren't you?" He smirked, slowly unbuttoning one painstakingly slow button at a time. Inch by inch revealing the succulent glow of his pale skin.

"N-no!" I protested, but the slight roll of his hips into mine made me squeak, then shamefully retreat into my own palms. Hiding my face from his mocking stare. The throb of my cunt around his dick was already sending me into a orgasmic shivers, still and barely even working. In fact, not working at all.

When he suggested the idea of cock-warming I wasn't entirely too sure what that was. But Jeongin was always gentle, open to rejection. I agreed after a short yet insightful explanation from my boyfriend, I was ecstatic to partake in the activity; except the one thing he hadn't disclosed was how fucking excruciating it would be to not move while in this position. While his dick was flush inside of me; walls closing around him at the slightest movement because he was giving me absolutely nothing. Just the feel of his tip poking the most sensitive part of my cervix.

My legs draped lusciously over his sides, cock stretching me as I sat flush against his body. His body begging for me to touch it, yet he said I'd wait for as long as he told me to. And here I was, after god knows how long, with me writhing in his lap while he gave me no reactions. Nothing to play off of, his face was unreadable.

I dropped my head on his shoulder, desperate for something more. For his grasp on my hips while he fucked me senseless.

"Really? You're all worked up," I could hear the sickening smirk in his tone, mixed with that gentle, sweet voice he naturally had. It was so fucking hot. Jeongin undid the final button, ending my painful wait to get a look at his beautiful body. The male worked his shirt open, placing his big, strong hands at the dip in my hips, finally giving me something that wasn't complete oblivion.

"I'm not worked up," I lifted my head, cheeks hot, clearly awe-stricken by his luminous body, "You're worked up." I pouted, whipping my head away in defiance.

"Hm, you're all bratty," Jeongin sighed, removing his hands from my waist and grabbing phone again, swiping up and down, double tapping on instagram posts as if I weren't even in front of him. As if I wasn't taking his cock. As if it was boring, "Bratty girls don't get to feel good. Sorry." He simply stated as his eyes fluttered over the screen at me, dark eyes unreadable per usual.

"Innie... please," I groaned, a sound that insatntly melted into a whine as I shifted on his cock; truly, at this angle his tip was pressing so perfectly into my sweet spot I could barely focus my eyes.

"You can be my cock-warmer for a little longer can't you?" Jeongin stated half-heartedly, placing his other hand behind his head as he tousled with his own black locks.

"N-no! I can't fucking stand this," I ran my fingertips up his front, opening his shirt wider to get a better view of his skin. The way it shimmered with a light layer of sweat, practically begging me to kiss it.

So I pressed my lips onto his skin, one kiss after the other across his collarbone, then his neck and jaw. Whining between every soft peck, my hands remained planted on his pectorals where I could feel the simple beat of his heart. Steady and completely average. Meanwhile all he did was continue to glance at his phone screen, silently enjoying the desperation lacing through my erotic words. The mumbled misconstrued "please" and "baby" that would leave my mouth between a sloppy open mouthed kiss secretly did a number on him.

He was just really fucking good at hiding it.

My lips met the best place to kiss his skin, just below his jaw, right beside that little crescent shaped beauty mark that reminded me of the moon. Finally I heard a nearly silent grunt from his lips; that's what's getting him off? A simple kiss to his beauty mark?

I had to secretly roll my eyes. I peppered that spot with ruthless, moist kisses. One by one, kissing that spot more until they became desperate love bites. My teeth nipping and playing with his skin between my teeth, my tongue swirling in whiny circles around the bruising flesh. I would pull away to admire it and get a better listen to his heavier breathing, his oh-so delightful groans. It was music to my ears, finally indicating that he was just as needy as I was. He was just good at acting. A little too good.

His cock deep inside of my body didn't lie either. I felt Jeongin's dick twitch, allowing my own walls to drip and clench in retaliation. I'd begun to think maybe I could have the upper hand here. I smiled against his skin, breath warm to match his own.

He grabbed my shoulders as I tried to bend down to place more smooches, cheeks burning and sweat creating a decent shine on his skin. Jeongin glared at me, right hand leading to my face and placing firm fingers around my cheeks, "You think you're cute, huh?"

"I am." I said between my squished cheeks, his eyes watching mine harshly. I knew what he was thinking; it wasn't that hard to read him anymore, I knew he loved to fuck.

"Not with your attitude," Jeongin leaned into my face, hands brushing the sweaty bits of hair off my neck. His words made my cunt feel desperate, the silent sitting position I had on him wasn't enough. Lust was a greedy emotion.

"You want my dick so bad, don't you?" He taunted, snarking into my ear. Oh, his minty breath coated the side of my face, hands still entangled in my hair and beginning to pull it tighter, out of my vision but probably reddening my scalp from the force.

I mewled in response, back arching to match his pull on my hair.

"Yeah you do," Jeongin pulled back, just as his lips were less than a millimeter away from my face. Jeongin sat back in the couch, hands behind his head as his eyes glazed over, looking at me like a piece of me. A look I didn't know could be so sexy on him, "Go ahead them. Fuck yourself on it. Go on, baby."

I tilted my head in confusion. Was he really letting me get my way?

"Really?"

"Hurry up."

My eyes scanned his face, then his body. Red nail indents lining his skin, hickeys upon his abused skin, ever his milky skin was covered in sweat. Pale in comparison to his dark crinkled shirt, matching his even darker hair. God, the sight was so hot. I couldn't resist the way my hips wanted to move, to bounce and grind upon him. See him groan along with me to create a harmony of pornographic sounds.

Skin on skin slapping, wet noises of our sexes colliding, sweaty bodies rubbing. Everything.

I placed my hands upon his shoulders, legs raising me up before I plopped back down. Whines and groans filling the air, all from my own mouth. My eyes couldn't see straight, dizzy stars and glowing orbs clouded my vision, only pushing me forward.

My movements were sloppy, but how could I not be sloppy when I could feel every inch of him glide against my walls in such easy, wet motions.

When my eyes finally focused, I caught the look in his eyes, bored. I moaned helplessly, the nonchalant look on his face never changing. I would've been embarrassed by how worked up I was had it not been for how good it felt.

"That's it baby? That's all you got?" Jeongin clicked his tongue, not giving me a single ounce of gratitude. Not a bit of saccharine emotions leaking from his words. And, god, it was addicting. I pumped myself upward faster, eyes fluttering to the back of my head with every little mewl I made. "C'mon, try harder." Another whine left my lips, swollen from kissing his skin feverishly, eyes watery. Yet, he looked relaxed, only sign that he was into this was the rock-hard feel of his cock inside of me. "More. Are you even trying? So sloppy." Jeongin grabbed his phone and stared at it boredly, vision telling he could care less by anything that was happening to him.

What was addicting to me was nothing to him. At least that's what it seemed.

"Fuck... ah, Innie... I cant-"

"I know you can't," Jeongin interrupted, a smirk tainting his face and giving him a domineering glow. A sheen of sweat upon his skin, the sound of skin slapping fueling his intense stares. Yet he didn't do anything. He liked to watch the struggle in my face; sadistically, chuckling to himself at how easily I unraveled, "But you better fucking try."

A few more sloppy bounces on his cock had me shaking, yet my orgasm wasn't approaching as I'd intended. I could barely taste it on my lips, but I couldn't. Not with him staring me down like I was a stupid puppy, incapable of doing anything but making a mess of myself. I felt drool pooling in the corners of mouth, babbling moans and hot breaths around me.

I was pathetic, and he loved it.

"What's wrong baby?" Taunting was his entire personality at this point, his teasing stares, the way his hands snaked at my waist yet did nothing to help me. It was addicting the little bits of joy I got from it. Right now, losing myself on his lap while he just watched had to be the hottest thing ever.

"Can't..." I panted. Breathless as I stopped fucking myself up and down, hair draping in front of my eyes, lips wet with drool. His hand at the small of my back, unamused.

"Do you need me to do everything for you?" He groaned as if annoyed yet the stir of excitement in his body knowing I just needed him was exactly what I wanted. He knew my body inside and out, every mark on my skin, every part of me he's kissed and worshipped.

"Please," I begged, hands at the back of his neck, lovely lips parted as he breathed down at my face, "I just need you. Can't do it.“

"Aw, so desperate," Jeongin cooed, hand beginning to trail down my stomach, pressing into it and feeling his own cock through the tender skin of my belly. His eyes seemed to ignite, "Poor baby can't even fuck herself right. All this cock and you don't know what to do."

"So pathetic," Jeongin groaned, working me up even more than I already was, "Need me to fuck you right, huh?“

I nodded, eyes fluttering as I slowly ground down on his hips, looking for validation in his eyes. He stared at me, hands holding me still.

"So bad," I slurred, barely valid words.

"I know you do," He helped me raise my hips, manifesting a steady pace for our bodies. His breathe slowly deepened, longer, unstable breathes filled the air between us. Nearly silent groans from the boy. Finally, a verbal reaction.

"So let me help my helpless baby out, yeah?" Jeongin cooed at me, raising me out of his lap, sliding out of my desperately wet hole. Leaving me empty and useless. All that time I'd sat in his lap with his full dick inside of me made me forget how it felt to be empty. And now all I wanted- no, needed was to be full of him again. In every way possible.

His body looming over me left only one thought in my mind, my hands clinging to his undone shirt, begging with silent moans and whines. Nothing to satisfy me, only the tease of his tip at my swollen clit, his precum seeping onto me.

Just in an instant, I was full again. His dick eliciting the loudest sudden moan I'd made. Somehow, his dick felt better when he was in control.

The smell of salty sweat on our bodies, his dick pumping in and out of me at a generous pace. It was fueling the orgasmic fire burning inside of me. My back arched each time he rammed his hips into mine; the hunger for more finally being satisfied.

I moaned and whined, incapable of forming words- incapable of forming thoughts. The only thing on my mind was how he managed to kiss my cervix with his dick, deepening with every delicious stroke each time. Perfect.

My nails attacked his back, luscious nails breaking his skin and drawing enough bloods to form a red wound. Crescents and lines of perfection, probably gonna leave a sting, but it was a reminder of how good he was making me feel.

Jeongin hissed, grabbing my thigh and holding it up, angling my hips just right. And then a new part of me was unlocked, my moans became desperate and loud. Helpless and I refused to shut up; I needed to show him how good I felt. I probably wouldn't have been able to stifle those moans either way, the rush was too good.

"God, you're such a slut," Jeongin grunted, staggering breath, heated cheeks, "You like it when I use you don't you?“

"Mhmm, love it," A moan left my lips, drawn out and erotic.

Jeongin scoffed. My hands dragged down his back, scratches painting his skin pink and red. He hissed again, yet pain turned to enjoyment, and then he used it to fuel his fire.

"Gonna let me cum inside, babe?" Jeongin tilted his head back, exposing the sweat glistening upon his neck; his Adam's apple bobbing with every gulp and breathe he took. Then he looked back down at me, raising a hand to my tummy to feel my skin. Pressing his hand down into it and feeling himself within my skin. Every pump, every twitch inside of me. Though he looked so dominant and large, I could see the desperation in his face. The slight twitch in his lip, the furrow in his eyebrow, even the way his cheeks burned even harder.

"Fuck, yes, c-cum inside," My back arched, livid rush of pleasure engulfing my body. My climax was drawing near, I felt my entire body shiver, once, twice. It was overwhelming, the stimulation felt overpowering.

"You close?"

No words left my mouth, my jaw went sack, my eyes scrunched tightly closed. My orgasm decided to make a sudden appearance as his dick abused my gummy spot; the spot inside me that sent me over the edge into relentless mewls of bliss.

"That answers my question," He groaned as he felt my cunt clench around him, cum seeping and squirting out of me like a leaky faucet. His eyes watched, the feeling of it only driving his own orgasm forward. Lips parted, he hit harder and deeper, dragging out my orgasm by a few hits until he filled my cunt up. Soon, my insides felt full and a bit sore, my thighs aching and knees red from the work I'd put in originally.

Everything ached yet my orgasm made me forget the pain. My eyes fluttered open to see Jeongin between my legs, fingers poking my sensitive hole as he shoved the leaking cum back into me, my silent whimpers filling the air. His gaze was intense, his full of adoration.

He was mesmerized by the sight of his and my own cum seeping from within me, drenching the soft fabric of the couch.

"Fuck, you're so hot."

"I am... so tired."

"You barely did any work," He taunted, bending to my lips and finally giving me a kiss, a soft one that made my heart flutter. Despite the burn in my inner thighs, everything was fine. And perfect. And right, "All you had to do was look pretty for me."

"I did some work..." I retaliated half-heartedly, cheeks red as my eyes lingered off to the side.

"Some," Jeongin kissed beside my lips, "You're a good cock-warmer." He teased, kissing my face everywhere.

I glanced down between our bodies, eyes instantly falling to his new hard-on, "Again?"

"Just gonna put it in," He chuckled, "Like i said, you're a good cock-warmer."

[jinwoosbabyboo]

“My Apologies You Must Have Me Mistaken For Someone Else”

+Synopsis+

AU where MC(You) remembers everything, but the LADS Men forget everything. Guess it's your turn to make them fall in love all over again. You did it once you can do it again. Right?

How do you tell someone they've loved you for centuries? In every lifetime? You don't. You love them in silence and do your best in hopes they'll reciprocate those feelings you're trying so hard not to show too soon.

Zayne

Your memories of everything with Zayne came flooding back one day. So fast that you actually almost passed out. The pain was excruciating who would have thought remembering could be so painful. Even worse it was in the middle of a battle with a wanderer. In the midst of you holding your head to try and subdue the pain you were pierced straight through the chest.

It was as if everything seemed to slow down. So much blood you could feel your vision darkening while your head was swimming as you lay there on the ground. Your life, no your lives literally flashing in front of your eyes.

"Y/N!" He's yelling. Zayne is yelling. You've never seen this much emotion on his face. Your face is soaked his tears must be dripping onto your face. No wait those are your tears. You're crying.

"I'm sorry" Your voice is nothing more than a raspy whisper. You can feel the pressure of his hands on your body. Why is he so cold? No wait. You're the one that's cold. He's warm.

So warm. You're no longer in pain anymore. You must be dying yet all you could focus on was the fact that Zayne has sacrificed himself again....and again.....and again.

For you. Always you.

That's the only thing that hurts now.

You try to curl into his body but you can't feel your own. It takes everything and then some to reach a hand up and caress his face. That stoic face, which isn't stoic at all now, just one last time. "I'm so sorry Zayne" I'm so sorry I keep forgetting you in every life. You deserve to be happy. I hope we meet again in my next life since I can't seem to die correctly. I'll come back to you and I'll remember you this time. I'll make it right. I'll do whatever it takes to get to you. Don't give up on me.

You died in Zaynes arms that day. The God Astra was pleased by your declaration so he figured he'd give you a little.....gift.

You woke up in the hospital with a jolt almost head butting the person standing over you. It was Tara. "You're awake! oh my gosh you're awake" She ran from the room in a hurry yelling down the hall for a doctor.

She came back shortly with two nurses and ..... Zayne? Your heart rate shot through the roof as he approached the bed taking a seat next to you. You couldn't help yourself the biggest smile plastered on your face as you wrapped you arms around his neck and hugged him tight.

It felt so good to have him in your arms again.

He sat there frozen not moving an inch. You noticed the confused stares of his colleagues and Tara behind him. Was he just being professional? You figured he'd at least be happy you remember him this time.

You died in his arms why is he acting like this? There was a quick double pat on your back as he slowly removed your arms from his neck. "Glad to see you're awake Miss..." He trails off as he looks at you chart "....Miss L/N. You were out for quite some time"

You stared in disbelief there was no way he forgot you. It had to be because there were others in the room with you. "Can I have a word with you alone Za- .... Dr. Zayne?"

His expression gave away nothing as he dismissed the nurses and Tara followed close behind. "I'll be right outside" You gave her a curt nod and a tight lipped smile. As the door closed behind her you turned to Zayne who was already getting started on checking your vitals.

"Zayne" He raised a hand cutting you off.

"Your vitals are stable we should be able to discharge you in two days tops." So professional. "Now what is it you'd like to speak to me about?'

"You- you don't remember? The wanderer and me in your arms and the blood" He stops you again.

"Ah yes your co-worker said you were pierced center mass during battle and hit your head pretty hard." He flips a page for your chart giving you nothing but professionalism. This isn't the Zayne you remember. "Luckily she got you medical attention in time. The attack grazed your heart and managed to puncture a lung in the process which saved your life in a way. We will need to do regular monitoring on your heart and lung just to be safe considering your profession as a hunter"

"You don't remember me do you?' You question with a shaky voice.

"My apologies you must have me confused with someone else." He stands and switches your IV bag before settling his gaze back on you. "Two days. We'll schedule your first two appointments on your day of discharge now please get some rest your heart rate has been elevated since I arrived." With that he turns and exits your room and just as soon as he leaves Tara is hurrying to your side to hug you with tears in her eyes. You stare blankly at the wall as tears slowly stream down your face.

So this is what it feels like. The love of your life doesn't remember you while you remember everything. It almost feels as though everything you two once had was never real.

He doesn't remember, but you do. You've switched places. But you made a promise and you intend to keep it.

"I'll come back to you and I'll remember you this time. I'll make it right. I'll do whatever it takes to get to you"

Rafayel, Xavier, and Sylus coming soon....

[sylusjinwoon]

{ 204 }

of painful auras and cute boys.

university au

jinwoo sung x fem.reader

there was an incredibly cute student who was in your class, and you could not seem to look away from him. each time you attended your morning classes, you would take note of how diligent he remained, always sitting near the front row while writing / typing out his notes on his slender laptop.

you assumed that he was a freshman like you, since his presence was not quite known by the upperclassman-

however, that didn't stop students across all classes from admiring him. from what little you gathered about him, you knew that his name was sung jinwoo, and he had plans of pursuing a degree in criminology after completing the required general education courses for the first few semesters. and despite how boring these classes were, each and every one of the professors were pleasantly surprised at how much he excelled in each and every one of them.

by the end of the fall semester, jinwoo had already reached the dean's list at the college, earning quite a few envious glares from his peers (which unfortunately, included you as well). it was odd, but, through the classes that you shared with him, you became aware of how his drive to succeed seemed to be taken up to the next level.

even if it was mildly infuriating to you, at the same time, you found a great source of motivation in him. throughout your high school years, you managed to scrape by with average grades (making plenties of c's and b's here and there, with true a's coming once in a blue moon)-

but seeing how devoted jinwoo was to his studies made you want to change your outlook on your university life. after classes, you would usually catch sight of jinwoo settled within the library with his textbooks spread across the tables as his hands diligently scribbled some notes within the confines of his notebook. he never seemed to carry that typical laziness seen within most freshman students after experiencing their first few weeks of college-

and you greatly admired him for it.

so... using your crush role model as your sole inspiration, you began to change your study habits and did your best to work just as hard as jinwoo. you would find a quiet corner in the middle of the library, (making sure you kept a safe distance from said role model and motivation), as you began your studies for the day. your eyes would glance up at him every so often, using his focused expression as a means to further motivate and inspire you to work harder.

your session starts out normal enough, with you comparing your written lecture notes to what the textbook chapter says. but the more you kept reading your textbook, the more you slowly began to feel a slight ache taking over the forefront of your brain. you shut your eyes for a few minutes, counting down the seconds that make up a minute by tens before reopening your eyes-

only to realize that your vision had gotten considerably worse.

for some reason, your eyes could only see weblike illusions, further marring your vision as you let out a soft moan in response. due to what you knew was an aura hindering your vision, you could feel the familiar pulse against your temple coupled along with the wave of nausea.

the lights used to brighten the library suddenly became too bright, making it painful for you as your breathing slowly became labored. the pain felt all across your head just kept mounting, becoming even more excruciating as you let out a soft moan, trying to relieve the ache by massaging at your temples, but to no avail. you were completely rendered helpless from the severity of your migraine, uncertain of what to do as hot tears were felt spilling from your eyes.

"hey, are you okay?" a gentle and calm voice calls out to you, but you could only manage a tiny whimper in response.

"no... i'm not okay... i think i'm having a bad migraine right now."

you hear someone, (a young man), click his tongue in response to your admission and try to meet his gaze, only to have that same aura place what looked like a static filter across your eyes, keeping the boy's identity hidden from you.

you listen as he lets out a hum before gathering your textbooks and notebooks together, placing them all neatly inside of your backpack along with your pencil case. "come with me, i'll help you."

clinging to his arms, you try to walk beside him, only to run the side of your hips against one of the tables as it made you wince in response. a rich chuckle was heard close to your ear when a smooth voice tells you, "hang on tight."

not even bothering to wait for your reply, you found yourself picked up by this mystery boy, gasping as you tried to fight against the powerful vertigo that courses through you. "w-whoa! d-did you just pick me up?"

"i had to... i couldn't have such a vulnerable girl continue hurting herself when she clearly can't see." amusement was heard within the richness of his voice, and had you not been feeling so nauseated and sick, you would have protested against his playful words.

with your vision still ruined by such a powerful aura, you could only put your trust within this perfect stranger as he carried you out of the library and back onto campus grounds. with your eyes clenched shut to avoid the intensity of the sunlight, you felt him walking to a more secluded area, hearing the grass crunching beneath him with each step that he takes before settling you down beneath what felt like an oak tree.

the shadows provided by such large branches was enough to help ease the ache on your eyes. your savior ends up joining you, kneeling down close to you as you felt the way he brushes back your hair before gently massaging at your forehead. at first, his touch makes you let out a soft hiss in response, but the more he kept caressing at your head, the less pain you felt-

like he was purposely soothing your migraine away with his gentle touches.

your eyes go wide, finally seeing the way the static clears away from your vision as you came face to face with sung jinwoo himself. you begin to tremble at the mere sight of him, tilting your head slightly at how his eyes seemed to glow a faint purple while he kept his hands against your head.

he sees your gaze and the way your lips remain parted for him, smiling down at you before removing his hand from your forehead. "do you feel better now?" jinwoo asks you with a gentle smile, and seeing such a beautiful sight up close was enough to make your heart pound.

you gingerly touch at your forehead and temple, the searing headache finally gone along with the sense of nausea. your expression was a bewildered one, yet it was filled with gratitude when you thanked him.

"t-thank you. i feel... so much better now... h-how did you do that?"

jinwoo simply gives you a tender smile and a wink, "sorry, that's going to be a secret for now. can't have you knowing everything about me too soon... because how else are you going to keep chasing after me?"

his teasing words make you lose all of your senses, for not even a single, coherent word could come from your parted lips. as you were left practically gaping at him, jinwoo hums before standing back to his full height, placing both hands within the pocket of his jeans while looking down at you.

you remain silent, seeing the way jinwoo's gaze seemed to flicker with an unknown emotion before becoming darker-

as if he wanted to look within the very depths of your soul.

the sheer intensity of his gaze was enough to make a sudden heat rush to your cheeks in response. yet as soon as that intense expression appears within jinwoo's stormy grey eyes, it disappears the next moment. a gentle smile paints his handsome features when he offers a hand to you, "would you like to join me for some coffee? i feel like you deserve a treat after suffering from such a bad migraine."

you were still unable to speak, simply nodding at him as you placed your hand within his, allowing jinwoo to help you up. he grabs both his and yours respective backpacks with little complaint, simply keeping his fingertips interlocked with yours as he walked with you to the nearest cafe.

as he walks with you, jinwoo could see shadowy wisps dancing around him excitedly, speaking to him:

"ah, it is such a great honor to be in the presence of our queen once more... congratulations on finding her, my liege."

and despite how you were unaware of jinwoo's beloved soldiers talking amongst themselves, he could hear them perfectly while letting out a secretive smile in response, giving your hands a gentle squeeze as proof of the happiness that he felt at being able to find you in this lifetime.

a.n. - i am so sorry; i still have the worst block for jinwoo,,, but i hope you readers will enjoy this little drabble 🥹

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.