#also I tried matching the amount you wrote but for some reason it feels so inadequate

[iceiclehorned]

Has it always been possible to fall in love at first sight?

When you’re young, or simply listening to the stories of a family member or friend, and they talk about their love story, there is usually a few weeks, perhaps even months, before the intensity of the connection brings the two people together in an intimate bond, but there was something that screamed at the Halovian to make her move as quickly as possible, defying the logical conclusion that most others, including her brother, would follow, in order to procure a “longer lasting” relationship, or to appear less… socially unacceptable.

To Robin, if you could not be happy as your authentic self, then there was especially no reason to wave a mask in front of your face so blatantly. Hiding the most wonderful traits about having the ability to express oneself should never have to happen, and she was also aware of the endless possibilities the two could traverse through if either of them felt even the slightest sense of rejection, though knowing her brother and The Family, they wouldn’t enable any discriminatory acts to occur in the first place, much less tolerated. In their own eyes, Penacony is a symbol of freedom, and self-expression was part of that, whether it was liked or not.

The way RED’s lips felt was heavenly, and it made her want to dive right back in for more of her. However, there was a momentary hesitation once she heard those shakily expressed words, her thumbs brushing away the tears as they fell from her eyes in an affectionate manner, before pulling away to get a tissue for assistance. Seeing those authentic emotions running through her partner like that only mede her own heart throb in her chest as she dabbed the tissue across the soft, pale skin. “I’m so happy, too.” Her expression of it was through a shy smile, as if this exploration had brought out a more modest side of her to the table, too. When needed, she could be quite brazen herself. But right now? In this very moment, with the sugary goodness she felt internally, it had weakened that resolve to assert herself over the other for the moment.

A slight fear had always existed in her mind from the moment this connection came to fruition, and she realised that she would have to actively compete against others for her. What if she had lost? That overwhelming anxiety had lived within her mind for a few hours, contemplating ways to ensure she ended up winning the girl’s heart fair and square. Having the ability to release that through one hot, ragged breath, was more than enough for her.

Feeling RED take an assertive stance this time around had left her surprised, but it had not been unwelcome. Rather, there was something quite soft about the way she leaned in, placing her lips against her own, closing the gap that had been created for only a moment. The feeling of warm hands exploring her upper body only encouraged her own hands to move from the beautiful face they had been holding, to her torso, as a means to bring the adventurer close as her back hits a brick wall, resulting in a breathy gasp to be released from her throat, barely making much noise among the intensity of the kiss. Her thighs parted enough to allow that access, choosing to give her beloved enough room to be free with however she wants with it all. There could never be a moment where her beloved felt rejection like that.

Yet, there was still an understanding that seemed to transcend the physical touch between the two that her lover was overwhelmed, so with every passing moment, Robin did her best to avoid getting too touchy, despite the way she yearned to feel her all over.

Pinned against the wall, there wasn’t much she could do, other than to slowly sink to the ground after the kiss ends, a result of her knees buckling from under her. Her hands grip onto the munchkin’s torso, breathing hotly at the compliment given to her through heavy panting. Her heart was nagging her for more, a temptation thickly layered between them. With a soft nudge, she brings RED close to her, looking into those grey eyes with nothing but raw, unfiltered love, which was battling against the lust that had been building for quite some time. How dare she be so perfect and lead her down this road, making her lose control of the way her body reacted to every single thing that she did. How could she be so wonderful, yet such a tease all at the same time?

The sensical part of her brain understood that it was not purposely done, and instead, it had been a result of bottled desire that made her think that way.

With one long, lasting look, Robin took RED’s hands into her own, looking up at her with an almost fearful expression. “Please, can I touch you?” The words flow out, a look of desperation lingering, yet remaining dormant, never going beyond a certain point. “And I don’t mean here, in the Dreamscape. I mean in the real world.” The ache between her legs had become so painful. The need to take care of it was growing, and part of her felt almost guilty for wanting to touch her companion in the way that she did. It was never too late to retract those words, but her lips made no move to do so. Instead, there was a momentary silence, before she opted to pipe back up again.

“I’m sorry,” it comes out as a flustered expression, her cheeks turning a hot mess of red. “To be honest, I’ve never experienced this feeling before… can you help me?”

The imagery of the smashed glass and the wasted liquid appeared to mean nothing to her anymore, becoming a faint memory, overshadowed by the scent and beauty of her newfound love.

"Ah-!"

The moments where she waited for a response, right after making her own move, felt excruciating. Despite the courage she mustered, there was still the possibility of it all being rejected, postponed or misunderstood. If there was to be a reaction, she expected it while they were still there, with breath seized and hearts ablaze. But instead, Robin seized her by the wrist and ran.

Red followed suit, keeping up with the pace, and not even minding if they were leaving the beverages behind in a pool of broken glass and sweet liquids. Despite the abruptness of it all, she trusted Robin already, and even had an inkling of what she was doing. After all, Red herself had briefly worried about how public the location they were had been. And there was something enchanting about dashing off with your loved one into the unknown, where all they would have was each other.

When the short jog came to an end, Red looked up to lock eyes with her angelic companion. The tone had changed, as did the rest of her demeanor. Surprise gave way to excitement, and Red felt the reverberations of it all throughout her body.

Her breath sharpened, both in anticipation and from the rushed move over to their place of seclusion. She had been painfully aware of how attractive the Halovian girl was, and how her voice made her feel, but the newfound confidence of her actions along with the undertones of need in her voice made her shudder even more now. Her ragged breathing was also making her so much more aware of Robin's scent, and how much it had been there all this time, understated but comfortable, putting her at ease much like the whole demeanor of the girl. And she already knew how nice and smooth Robin's hand felt.

She could associate Robin with every sense she had, except one. And as if on cue...

“I’m going to kiss you now.”

Red swallowed. Her panting made her all too aware of the dryness of her mouth, and the hotness of her breath. Robin's hesitation was only temporary, but it was enough for Red to curb the furious thumping of her heart, part her lips slightly and angle her head aside, just to make it easier (and more inviting) for Robin when she leaned in. Even non-verbally, she hoped this was clear indication for the other to keep going.

All the while, she did her best to control her breath. She needed oxygen. But she needed Robin even more.

When their lips finally met, it was airy and light, warm and inviting, passionate but gentle. Red was mostly reactive to each caress of the lips, moving them when led, and enjoying the distant sweetness of the Pika White along with the natural feeling of Robin's mouth. She might have been a bolder explorer, but being held by Robin's hands in the meantime really kept her under control, until their lips parted.

So far, Red's head had been fuzzy, her mind lost in the moment and intoxicated by all the feelings involving Robin, internal and external. But the pause made something snap to her awareness.

It had happened. She had finally found someone that wanted her just as much, and perhaps more than she wanted them. Even if the whole thing was a crime of passion, or something that would not otherwise last, this was tangible proof that all the maker wanted was possible, instead of an unreachable ideal.

And that was why, when Robin complimented how she tasted, Red's answer came through incredibly shaky breath, and her half-open eyes caused a small pool of tears to form under each one.

"R-Robin..." She suppressed a sniffle as a shaky smile took over her face"... I'm so happy...!!"

The metaphorical dam in her heart, once having only one hole poked into it, cracked and broke down with surprising speed. The clear shows of affection and the underlying sense of need and lust was making her feel pleasantly warm and wet. Red took a moment more to regain her composure, the tears finally rolling down her cheeks (and Robin's hands, if they were still there), but with her smile still present and prevalent in her expression.

And then, she was the one to lean in, to kiss Robin again. Only, now she was trying to lead the pace. Her hands, lost and idle during the first kiss, now rose towards Robin's exposed shoulders, to caress them and also gently inch the pair towards the nearest wall, where Red could up the ante; she could press a bit harder against Robin's body with her own, hoping her chest wouldn't exert an awful more amount of pressure, but also unable to resist the temptation to feel Robin with her whole body. Even one of her legs inched closer, aiming to add to the feeling of the pin, but instead just ending up helplessly in between Robin's legs and with no upwards reach towards making the sensations better.

When Red drew back, it wasn't for lack of want to keep going, but moreso because the feeling of being wanted had been so enthralling that, in the middle of her own passionate trance, she wanted to see those kind and yearning eyes again, and really drink in the situation as it had been unfolding.

"And you," she whispered back, in a more stable voice, "you taste amazing. Ahh, I could-- I could get addicted to this..."

There was no regret in her tone. Not even resignation, if anything, there was contentment and peace, which didn't betray the swirl of emotions that still raged in her heart, flooding her with positivity.

[monzabee]

the smallest man who ever lived - cl16

masterlist || part 2 || part 3 ||

Summary: The one where you’re thrown into a conundrum when you learn the news of your husband, Charles’, infidelity.

Pairing: charles leclerc x wife!reader; carlos sainz x reader

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: angst, cheating, crying, manipulation(?), charles is an absolute asshole (but so is the reader) (but she’s kinda also badass?) (toxic relationship?), even more assholish carlos (gasp), blackmail, mention of pregnancy, mention of sex and sexual acts, physical confrontation (literally just pushing someone off but still)

Request: “Hey girl can I request something angsty with Charles? Maybe Charles cheating on Y/N (we’re already famous and have been married to Charles for years) and the fighting, the finding out, his guilt, angst, etc.”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! thank you to the anon who requested this because i had the time of my life working on it, and it might be the first fic i wrote in one go for the last six months or so!! also thank you to the getting cheated on playlists i found on spotify and amy dunne for giving me the inspiration to make the reader as toxic as i could. special thanks to @norrisleclercf1 and @percervall who had to listen to me talk about this fic NONSTOP. this is definitely something very different to what i usually write, but i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

There are moments in life where you feel like a complete and utter idiot. Although it could be for no apparent reason at all, there is a perfectly explainable reason why you feel like that right now, in the middle of your trailer on the set, with your manager and publicist both looking at you like you could explode at any given moment. It took you a good amount of time to wrap your head around the news, the news that wrecked you into a million of pieces which left you as the only person who can put them back together.  

“Let me get this straight,” you start, still trying to wrap your head around the news, “they were photographed leaving the club, and there’s a–?” 

“Sex tape, yes.” Your manager mumbles, earning himself a side-eye from your publicist. “It was so kindly attached to the email.”  

“And it is anonymous?” You ask, earning curt nods from both. “Well,” you manage to get out, pressing your lips together not to let out a sob, or a laugh, both? “That is very ambitious of him.” 

Your publicist shares a concerned look with your manager, then turns to you, “I guess so? How would you want us to handle this? I can buy us some time until these are released to public, but I think getting a statement ready just in case is essential given the fact that both of you are public figues. We can say that you’ll attend marriage councelling–” 

Your loud laugter cuts her off in the middle of her sentence. “And just why would we do that?” 

“I–” She gives you another concerned look as she softens her voice, which is quite uncharacteristic for her, you realise. “How would you want us to approach it then?” 

“I don’t want you to approach it at all.” You voice cuts through the tension, your gaze fixed on her. “I’ll handle it.”  

“But Charles–” She tries to reason, but you cut her off again.  

“Decided to get his dick wet where it certainly didn’t belong, he’s a big boy ��� he’ll survive.” Fixing her with a final look, you turn to your manager instead. “I don’t want this going to Charles or his team’s ears, that’s what the email said, and we should honour it, no?”  

His expression turns into a smirk, matching the one playing on your lips as he nods in thougt, “Would you like us to do anything else? We can talk with the production if you need a couple of days to… well, recuperate. Greta would understand.” 

“No.” Your answer is final as you shake your head. “She thinks this is an Oscar worthy project, I’m not throwing it away because my husband decided to think with his dick and not his brain. Just call my lawyers and tell them to be on stand by.” 

“Should I also book you tickets to Monaco still?” He asks in a monotone tone. 

“Well of course,” you reply in a sweet voice, widening your eyes for dramatic effect, “it’s a family event.” 

Your publicist eyes the both of you, “Okay,” as she drags the word out, “are you sure you don’t want to take a couple of days off?” 

“Positive. I have an EGOT to win.” Raising the script you have in your hands in the air, you announce, “I have lines I need to go over, is that all?”  

And as they leave your trailer to give you some space to ‘go over your lines’, you let a few tears escape your eyes, promising yourself that you would make Charles feel a thousand worse what he made you feel in the moment. 

It is not surprising or a sudden revelation that Monte Carlo has good weather all year around. But as it happens with the last few weeks following you learning about your husband’s infidelity, all you feel is cold – and no amount of warm weather is enough to make your heart feel warmer again. As you stand at the terrace of Café de Paris, overlooking the cityscape of Monte Carlo, all you can think about is how you just want to get this part of you plan over with as fast as possible.  

“Chérie!” The voice you hear makes a lump perpetually situate itself in the middle of your throat, but you brace yourself for the worst as you turn on your heels to face the person you’re most scared of facing in this whole situation. “Look at you, you look incroyable! You had me scared when you told me you were catching the redeye, and that we just had to talk!” 

“Pascale,” you breathe out as the woman pulls you into her arms with the warmness of any mother would do, and for that brief moment, you feel better than you have in weeks. “It’s so nice to see you again,” giving her the warmest smile you can muster up in the circumstances as you pull back, fixing your gaze at the figure behind her as you nod your head in acknowledgement, “Arthur.” 

“Maman is right,” Arthur says as he opens his arms, “you do look good.”  

“Well, thank you.” You reply as you give him a quick hug, and motion the table as you pull back. “Shall we?” Call it common curtesy, or cowardice, the fact that you don’t directly get to the point. Either way, you talk about what you’ve missed in the couple of months in which you’ve been away filming. You’re not necessarily paying attention, though the endtail of Pascale’s sentence catch your attention. “Excuse me, can you repeat that?” 

“Well, I was just telling how sad I was that Charles doesn’t come home as often this season. Though I understand he’s coming out to see you on set, distance can be so hard even for–” 

“He’s not coming out to see me, Pascale.” You voice is softer, and appears more broken than you would want it to be, but your words convey the message enough. It takes you a couple of moments to organise your thoughts, and Arthur calling out your name, to get you back into the moment. “There’s something I need to talk with the both of you, something I’ve already talked with Lorenzo, but I thought it would be better for you to hear it from me.”  

“Okay?” Arthur mumbles, then gives you a supportive smile, “You can tell us anything. Though don’t tell me I’m about to be an uncle because I don’t think my ego can take it at the–” 

You attempt to swallow the lump in your throat as you direct your words to the woman sitting across from you. “I’m divorcing your son, and I thought you should hear it from me and not him.”  

It takes a few minutes for both Pascale and Arthur to say something, and it concerns you that you somehow managed to give your mother in law a brain aneurism, but eventually, she manages to get out, “What? How? Why? Are you okay?”  

“I’m… fine.” You reply, albeit it comes off calculated. “I found a couple of weeks ago that he was cheating on me, I’ve came back to give him the papers myself.”  

“He what?” Arthur exclaims, then realises the level of his voice, and lowers it down as he asks, “Are you sure this is not a misunderstanding? The guy has been in love with you for over a decade, he wouldn’t do this.” With a resigning sigh, you find what you’re looking for in your phone and hand it over to Arthur. Who then, upon seeing what you have pulled up, immediately hands it back to you and turns to his mother, “Trust me you don’t want to see it.” 

“I’ve came to tell you the news, and well, to apologise.” You turn to face Pascale again.  

“Apologise?” She repeats, “Why on earth would you apologise to me when my son cheated on you?” 

“You’ve been nothing but kind to me ever since we’ve met, both of you.” You acknowledge Arthur with a look, and then focus your attention back on the woman, “Though I will make sure you don’t get caught in the crossfire in any way, I wanted to apologise for what I’m about to put your son through.”  

You honestly don’t know how you manage to act as if everything has been going fine in your life during race day. Given the fact that your husband doesn’t expect you to be at his race due to your rigorous filming schedule, and his family members being willing to hide your existence from him, you have no obstacles in your way to carry out the rest of your plan in motion. Which is exactly why you’re sat in the dark, waiting for your husband to walk through the doors of your apartment overlooking the city. With you seemingly being absent for the weekend, he has no reason to not believe that he is coming to an empty house.  

So, imagine his surprise when he enters his home; with his girlfriend in his arm, no less, and sees his wife sitting on the couch with her legs crossed and a drink in her hand. The look on his face is priceless, and despite all the pain and frustration you’re feeling, it manages to bring you some semblance of joy, knowing that it’s going to hurt him just as much as it hurt you.  

“Ma chérie,” Charles stammers, eye wide as he looks at you like a deer caught in headlights, “I – I didn’t know y–you were coming back this weekend.” 

“Well obviously,” you scoff, taking a generous sip from the drink in the glass tumbler in your hand, “otherwise you wouldn’t bring your little girlfriend into my house to fuck her.” You hear a gasp from the scaredy brunette wedging herself closer to your husband’s side, and for the first time you take a good look at her – young, much younger than you, tall, leggy; all the telltale signs that she is exactly your husband’s type. Tilting your head to the side, you rest the glass on the arm of the armchair you’re sitting in, “If you could leave now, I would greatly appreciate it.”  

You hear Charles whisper something in her ear, probably telling her to leave and that he’ll contact her tomorrow, and watch as she gives him a scowl, screeching, “You’re just going to let her throw me out?” 

“Well, considering the fact that this is my house, yes.” You give her a look of pity, watching her face light up with anger.  

“Listen to me, you bitch–” She starts, but your husband quickly cuts her off.  

“Mon cœur!” He exclaims, “S'il te plaît!” 

“Yes, listen to him, like a good little girl,” you egg her on, a smirk widening on your lips as you start swinging the leg resting on your lower one, choosing to focus on your nails instead of your husband trying to soothe his lover. 

You hear her scoff, take a few steps as her heels click on the marble floor of the entrance, “I wouldn’t be so calm if I were you, I’m not someone you want to be on bad terms with, considering the fact that he’s going to leave you for me!” 

“Oh, honey,” you coo, focusing your attention back on her and seeing the look of concern in your husband’s face through the corner of your eye, “and when did he tell you that, like a year ago? Two? Three?” A realisation dawns on her face as the smug expression starts to fade. “Don’t worry, though, you can have him when I’m done with him.” Pushing yourself off the armchair, you down the rest of the drink in the glass before slamming it down onto the glass coffee table. “And not only do I not care if you think I'm a bitch, but I hugely prefer it. Now get the fuck out of my house before I call security and get your ass thrown out.”  

You watch as she looks at Charles with indignation, lets out another screeching sound and slams the door behind her as she stomps out of your apartment. Only then you turn your gaze back to your husband, who has the guts to look at you with a worried look on his face. “How long have you known?” Is the first thing he asks you, taking a few steps closer.  

“A couple of weeks, a month, maybe?” You answer him, leaving your place to get to the small bar in the corner of your living room to get another refill of your drink. “There’s a video of the two, it somehow got into my hands, and it has very graphic details of the two of you having sex.” Popping a lemon into your cup, you make your way back to the armchair and sit down, “Are you stupid enough to cheat on me and make a fucking sex tape, Charles?” 

“I-I didn’t mean to–” He tries to plead, but you cut him off with a shake of your head.  

“You didn’t mean to what?” You ask him; your voice soothing, almost understanding, and it does the job of fooling him. “Cheat on me? Fuck another woman in my bed? Break the vows you’ve made?”  

“Ma chérie,” he whispers, “please.” 

“No.” Your voice is colder all of a sudden. “Tell me how long this has been going on for. Was I right? How many years?” 

“It started five years ago,” his voice is soft, somber and he tries to appear as genuine as he can in the situation, you suppose, “but I knew her, from before...” 

“Before what?” You’re seething now, the complete opposite of his calmness, “Did you fucking cheat me when we were dating, Charles?” 

“Ma chérie,” he gives you another pleading look, “please, I can change. I’ll go to therapy.”  

Now that, manages to get a bark of laughter from you. It’s ripped from the back of your throat, making you throw your head back as you lose yourself in the laughter to the point that there are tears in your eyes when you finally manage to calm yourself down. Putting the glass down on the coffee table once again, you wipe them off, mindful of your mascara, as you shift your attention back onto your husband. “Are fucking kidding me right now?” He gives you a concerned look, hands on his hips as he opens his mouth to answer you, but you quickly shut him down again. “You were bringing her into my house to fuck her, I caught you, I have your fucking sex tape – which is going to be streamlined for the world to see within twenty-four hours, do you honestly think I would go back to you?”  

“Wait, what?” He exclaims, looking at you with wide eyes and a shocked expression. “What do you mean they are going to streamline it, why didn’t you go to the lawyers? 

“I did go to the lawyers,” you shrug, innocently, “my lawyers,” you point out. “Why would I cover up your mistakes after everything you’ve done?” 

“Because I’m your fucking husband!” He barks, his arms widening to his sides as he finally loses his mask and his composure.  

His little tantrum only makes you let out another laugh, “Now, you’re my husband? Not when you’re cheating on me when I’m away shooting, but when you need me to clean up after your mistakes?” 

“How did you even get the video?” He asks, eyes narrowing down, “Who- who– who?” 

“Who? Who? Hoo? What are you, a fucking owl?” You exclaim, this time raising your voice. “You’re honestly more concerned about where I got it and not about the fact that the entire world is about to see you fucking someone other than your wife?” 

“What are we doing to do?” He asks, “Fuck, I have a race tomorrow.” 

“We’re not going to do anything.” You shrug, leaning forward to grab the glass and take another sip, “Or scratch that, we’re actually going to do something.” You stand up from the armchair, walk towards the table and hand him the file. “Congratulations, we’re getting a divorce.” 

“That is not happening.” He scoffs, not even bothering to look at the papers.  

“I don’t think you’re in the position to bargain with me, Charles.” You seethe, “You’re going to sign the damn papers, and you’re also going to sign away your rights to the baby.”  

“What the–?” He looks at you in disbelief, “You’re pregnant?” 

“Congratulations, it’s a boy.” You bite out, “Like you wanted.” 

“You’ve been drinking the entire night.” He points to the glass, “Do you expect me to believe you’re pregnant?” 

Offering him a sweet smile you hand him the glass, tipping it towards him, “It’s soda water, would you like a sip?” 

“Don’t make me do this,” he pleads, “give me another chance.” 

“I would’ve, if you were honest with me from the start.” You resign, a sincere look in your eyes. “I’ll give you a choice: us, or her.”  

He rears back with the offer, looking at you in disbelief. “What?” 

“You either choose me and the baby or you choose to be with her, and in that case, I will never let you near my baby, Charles.” You shake your head, wrapping your arms around your stomach protectively.  

For a second, his eyes linger around your stomach.   But you know his choice when he meets your eyes again.  

“What have we done to each other?” He whispers, and you can barely see the tears in his eyes.  

“We didn’t do anything, Charles. I gave up everything for you, but you just took me for granted.” Walking back to the dining table, you grab your coat and bag, and when you come face to face with him again, your voice is soft despite all the anger you still feel towards him. “You, Charles Leclerc, are truly the smallest man who ever lived.”  

The hotel lobby is calm and empty as you sit at the bar, and it’s surprising when you consider that fact that it is the weekend of the Monaco Grand Prix, meaning that there must be hundreds and thousands of motorsports fans visiting. Not that you’re complaining about the silence, of course. After the night you’ve had, silence and calmness are all you could ask for.  

“I’ll get a whiskey, please, whatever top shelf stuff you’ve got.” A voice cuts through the moment you are having, and you instantly recognise the distinct accent of the stranger sitting next to you. “Thought you were in the States, finishing off filming.” This time, the comment is directed to you, and you roll your eyes as you push the empty glass towards the bartender on duty.  

With a sigh, you turn to the man on your right, “What do you want, Carlos?” Your voice conveys your lack of energy, and Carlos is not dumb enough not to notice the dark circles under your eyes beneath your makeup.  

“I came to check on you.” Is his answer. Simple, curt and to the point. You’d certainly appreciate it more if you had the patience for his antics.  

“Well, you did, have a good night.” Slamming down a hundred-Euro bill onto the counter, you make a move to get up from your place, but a gentle hand on your wrist stops you. “Let me go.”  

Though there is no venom to your voice, Carlos knows that it is not the time, nor the place, to test your patience. “I’m sorry,” he starts and when you take a good look at him, you can tell that he’s being sincere, “I really did want to check up on you, and considering the fact that you have a perfectly good penthouse but instead in a hotel, I think I was right to do so.”  

Crossing your arms across your chest as you get back onto the barstool with a huff, you glare at him lightheartedly, “I didn’t want to stay in the same house as him,” raising your eyebrows, you continue with a lower voice, “thanks to chilisade5594@gmail.com, but I’m sure you know what I’m talking about.” The way his cheeks redden under the dim lights of the lobby bar would make you chuckle under normal circumstances, but you push the thought aside, “Honestly, what were you thinking? You’re lucky it was me who realised it was you, if it was my agent or publicist, we’d have another scandal to deal with.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” he brushes you off with a swat of his hand, “I’m sorry I put you into that position.” 

“Don’t be,” you mumble, tilting your head to the side, “I wouldn’t have known if you hadn’t sent me the video. Just tell me why you did it.” 

“What?” He turns you with a confused look on his face.  

“Why, Carlos?” You ask, voice encouraging yet soft, “Why did you send it? Why now?” 

He keeps quiet for a while, not answering your questions but not taking his gaze off you either. Eventually, he exhales a deep sigh as he gives you a sheepish shrug, “I didn’t like the way he treated you. And I didn’t want to make you worry about it without concrete proof, so I guess everything just... worked out.”  

“Huh,” you let out a small hum in agreement, “I guess you’re right.”  

Expecting more than the words you chose to answer him with, he raises an eyebrow as he takes a big gulp of whiskey from his glass. “That’s it?” 

“Well, what more is it there to say?” You ask, sheepishly shrugging. “We’re getting a divorce; he’s going to move out and I’m gonna make sure the entire world knows just why.” 

Carlos flags down the bartender as he mumbles, “I feel like you need a stronger drink if we’re going to talk about your impending divorce, cariño.” 

Taking a deep breath and exhaling an even deeper sigh, you shake your head. “I can’t.” Thank God Carlos is one of the people who is the proud owner of a braincell around you, because he catches your insinuation quickly.  

With widened eyes, he quickly turns towards you, eyes softening as you offer him a sad smile. “Dios mío,” he murmurs, eyes running over you worriedly, “are you okay?” 

“Well... no.” You let out an unexpected laugh at his expression, patting him on the shoulder lightheartedly. “I’ll be fine, Carlos, I’m a big girl. I can handle this.” 

“I know you will,” he assures you, “but does Charles know?” 

Now that manages to bring a grimace to your face. “He signed his parental rights away along with the divorce papers.” The look he gives you after hearing your words has you worried that his eyes are going to pop out of their sockets, but you try to calm him down as best as you can. “Carlos, it’s fine.” 

“It’s most certainly not!” He exclaims, his voice echoing in the almost empty hotel lobby. “Is he out of his mind?”  

You give him an awkward smile and another shrug of your shoulders. "I... feel like whatever I’m going to say is going to be wrong. So... yes?”

“Cariño,” he says, exasperated, “how are you so normal about this?” 

“Lots of women raise their kids as single mothers while working, Carlos.” Your expression quickly taking the form of a frown, “I can handle this, I don’t need Charles or anyone else to hold my hand and tell me I’m doing such a good job.” 

“I know you can do this alone, tonta,” he rolls his eyes as the endearment making you roll your eyes, “but you’re not going to be alone. Because I’m here.” There’s a certain finality to his words. And just as you’re about to object to his words, he quickly shuts you down. “I know you can do this on your own, but you don’t have to, okay? I’m going to be with you every step of the way.”  

“What if I need waffles in the middle of the night?” You ask, your eyebrow raised in a skeptical way.  

“I’ll adjust my pancake recipe.” His reply his immediate, and he shrugs lightly as he adds, “Pancakes are better, anyway.”  

Rolling your eyes you continue, “What if I need someone to hold my hand in the delivery room? It can get quite gruesome, you know?” 

He provides you with another nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. “I’ve never really been affected by it.”  

“Okay, this is ridiculous, Carlos!” You exclaim, pushing yourself off your seat as you turn your body to face him. “I don’t need you to bail me out, I don’t need your help!” 

“I know you don’t,” he nods.  

“I am capable of doing this on my own!” You shriek, and the fact that your face is starting to get progressively redder worries Carlos.  

“I know you are, but–” he tries to reason.  

“No buts! I’m going to be a good mother, okay?” You point an accusatory finger towards him. “I’m going to choose him!” 

The way your voice breaks at the end of your sentence has Carlos instinctively pull you into his arms, which is not that hard given the fact that you are almost the same height as him as you stand in front of the bar stool he’s sitting on, and he doesn’t say a word as you sob into his chest – letting out all the emotion you’ve bottled up over the past few weeks, no less. He doesn’t you offer you empty promises or tries to soothe you with cliché phrases. Instead, he stands still, holding you between his arms as you sob continuously into his chest. Giving the bar tender an awkward smile over your shoulder, he hands him his card to close out your tabs.  

He only starts talking again once you’ve pulled away and trying to wipe the remnants of your tears from under your eyes. “Do you feel better now?” He asks, handing you a napkin.  

“Yeah,” you mumble, sniffing as you play with the corners of the napkin. Then, you flip your eyes toward his, and fix him with a glare. “You are not becoming my kid’s stepdad.” 

“Of course not, cariño,” he assures you, “I’ll be the dad that stepped up instead.” 

You let out a teary chuckle as you slap him lightly on his chest. “I’m serious, Carlos.” 

“So am I.” He replies softly, and you can see the genuine look on his face. “You’re not alone anymore, I’m choosing you.” Tentatively, he presses his hand softly against your stomach as he maintains your gaze. “Both of you.” 

And though the last thing you want is a promise, this one seems like a real one. So, you let yourself believe that he might just keep it up. 

[chaos-in-deepspace]

L&DS Zayne: Sugar Zaddy | 18+ Headcanons

So I didn't write this. You heard me right, this was not written by me. Instead my discord kitten, my lil meow meow, wrote it. Well...kinda. We were discussing something that happened earlier and she was like "Consider a Sugar Daddy though..." And then went off on Discord. She's too shy to actually post this herself, so she gave me permission to. The green text is my contributions on discord that she included in the doc. Small note: This is an 18+ post, however the first part is mainly SFW (except for one bullet in particular that warns with NSFW beforehand). The more raunchy ones are under the "NSFW" part. So again, this is 18+ but the first part isn't as bad.

/ᐠ - ˕ -マ Ⳋ Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+. /ᐠ - ˕ -マ Ⳋ Warnings: Dom/Sub Dynamics, Spanking, Begging, Possessive Behavior (Hot), Zaddy /ᐠ - ˕ -マ Ⳋ Pairings: Zayne x Reader

Blog Information | Masterlist

Zayne

Daddy Zayne , to whom if you ask him to cut your food for you because you feel like having a butler or doing something so you won't get your hands or nails messy, would do it immediately - He would peel and cut an apple for you, feed you an orange, just doing everything for you if you ask.

Zaddy Zayne who, sometimes when you beg enough or have been behaving well enough, would let you show him off - But he might tease you while doing so.

Zaddy who would feel bad if he picked out the wrong gift for you, because he's like, "Nah, my Jimmy Neutron brain really thought this was a good idea?"

Zaddy who grips your thighs when sitting together, even at restaurants.

Zaddy , as usual, Zayne doesn't like risk like public.

Clothing wise, would he let you dress him up to match with you? We’re not talking about him dressing us up because DUH, IT'S Zaddy . It depends on what you’d be wearing to be honest. If it’s something too flashy, then no, but if it’s something classy, he would definitely match with you. Not to mention that means when you’re out in public, if for some ungodly reason you leave his side and someone tries flirting with you, he just walks up next and you can just TELL y’all are together with your outfits.

It depends on what you’d be wearing tbh. If it’s something too flashy then no, but if it’s something classy? He would definitely match with you. Not to mention that means when you’re out in public, if for some ungodly reason you leave his side and someone tries flirting with you, he just walks up next and you can just TELL y’all are together with your outfits

Zaddy who, when someone mocks you, just pulls you closer subtly showing off. If you seem upset, he buys you double the things he usually buys for you.

Zaddy who uses his busy schedule against you and in your favor. Sure, he may take off some activities to spend time with you, pampering you, but he also uses it against you when you're most needy, suddenly taking over Dr. Grayson's next surgery just because he is a "kind soul." This man likes and loves hearing you beg, and it gets worse if you try to backfire it on him. Trying to make him jealous or sending him a naughty picture will just make him take even longer, but not enough to make you cry of frustration or simply just get turned off, just the right amount because after all, he knows you like the back of his hand and knows how to keep his pretty princess behaved and happy.

Zaddy who would give you another copy of his credit card.

You wanna live in another place? Sure, as long as it's not too far from him

Moving into the apartment under his.

NSFW: You wanna travel? Gotta squirt five times to make him consider it and make up for lost time…time which will also be taken back when you come back.

Zaddy who buys you a present wherever he goes out, going out of his way to buy something for you after surgery before going back to the airport.

Zayne who dislikes you talking back.

Zaddy who cooks for you.

Zaddy who (this is more based on me, I dunno you) pampers you triple when you bake for him.

Zaddy who, if you practice any kind of sport, isn't the kind of pervert to just watch to get off, but maybe occasionally, depending on the mood, if you're doing yoga in such a position, will not need to bend you down since you already do it for him.

Zaddy who occasionally starts the act if you say you're not in the mood, will give you tons of kisses just so you don't feel bad.

Zaddy who loves when, during shopping sprees, you make a quick stop by the pastry shop for a sugary treat or ice cream.

Zaddy who is the silent jealous type but is a gentleman and would not take it out on you.

Zaddy who thinks it's just established how your relationship with him works and if you ever doubt it, he will make you learn it word by word.

And if you say, "Heck nah, get away," he will understand your wish and get away.

Zaddy who has nurses and girls after him, and he gives them the cold treatment.

Zaddy who, depending on his mood, sticks to you, gives you the side eye if it's a dumb jealousy, makes you suck it up or indirectly humiliates the other person.

Now, would Zaddy brag about you? Like comparing you with others (you on top, of course, you're his pretty princess). He knows you're the best so he doesn't need to brag or compare. He may compare to make you feel better if you're sad though. It's literally the phrase, "if you need to talk about power then you don't have it." I think dating Zayne would be 90% of your relationship, married life comes later, after all, he's just like your husband the day he started pampering you.

Zayne who, when he has a crush on you, gives you mixed gifts, some little cheap things and some very expensive, to see your reactions and study your reactions to win your heart.

Zaddy wouldn't let his money do all the work though; this man will rizz you up HARD.

Zaddy who does his skincare with you 💋.

Zaddy who, if you ask him to or if you're tired, will do your skincare for you.

Zaddy who cuddles you the first night even if he did or didn't rail you before sleep.

Zaddy who, if you're a gamer ass, as long as you keep him happy, will buy you the best PC or consoles.

Zaddy who isn't interested in video games but if it's a cozy one and you ask him to play, he will and will surprise you with little things in the game.

NSFW

Sugar daddy Zayne who gives you sweet kisses when you cry while he's pounding you ❤️ - Telling you how good you are for being able to take him. Telling you how it’s fine if you can’t walk tomorrow, he’ll carry you wherever you need to go.

Zaddy with both cock warming kink and breeding kink.

Zaddy who wants to beg for you to try and come back and tried just one time against his ego to get you back with gifts, and if it works, he's going to hold himself back until you finally have sex with him starting it.

Zaddy who, if you catch him not in the mood, will keep it in mind later to give you what you need and make up for it.

Zaddy who, duh, loves edging you; it's Zayne .

Zaddy who, if he's desperate, would have masturbating sessions with you over the phone.

Zaddy who has a secret folder on his phone for your intimate photos.

Zaddy who, of course, loves seeing you in lingerie.

Zaddy , the panty stealer, when work hits too hard.

Zaddy , the mother who nudges you to go out by going shopping if you've been in too long and fucks you to keep you inside if you've been out too much.

Zaddy who would tie your hands and have you sit on his face while he eats you out *

This guy has all the cake he ever needs so he doesn't need yours for anything other than spanking..

Zaddy who, if you spanked his butt like in the bongo headcanons, would, depending on his mood, have you lay down on your lap and slap your ass or would just give you the side eye and retrieve the gift he was going to give you, making you beg for it. And if you're masochistic, make you beg (optional, depends on horniness).

Zaddy who seems to be the most horny one but in reality is not. Zaddy , that has you start reaching for his cock.

Zaddy who reeducates your bad habits by edging you or making you cum twice the amount you messed up.

So there it is! All written out and lovely! Thanks again to my dear friend who just went feral over this idea. She gave me permission to let y'all know who she is so it's @nati-cutie-patootie she did such a good job, ya? I think she did.

[amagellaniccloud]

Ghost NSFW alphabet

Here's a Self-indulgent thing I wrote 'cause this man has me in a chokehold I wish he actually had me in one

Also, I tried my best to make this as GN as possible, if I made a mistake, pls let me know.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

This post contains sexually explicit content. If you are a Minor please respect this rule and scroll past and DO NOT ENGAGE WITH NSFW POSTS. NSFW under the cut

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex) I feel like he would fall asleep pretty quickly after sex. I hc that he has some form of Insomnia so I think after he's done with everything, he would bring his s/o water or anything else they wanted but would prefer to fall asleep before cleanup.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) For his own body part: His hands + arms. I think he likes how they make him visibly look strong and intimidating, scaring people off which he'd love and his hands for a similar reason. Plus his hands can also be………… utilized in great ways As for his partner: Probably their waist. I think he's the kind of guy to have a hand around their partner's waist 24/7. Doesn't matter which size, he would just love to hold his s/o close to him in every situation and its also a nice way to show affection

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically) Amount; probably a lot. I think it depends on where he's coming though, like on your belly; a pretty good amount but inside? probably will empty enough baby maker for the next ten generations as for consistency; I think it is a little thicker than watery but pretty in the middle and Taste (my fav part); a bit sweet but with a salty aftertaste, I think (I just think the taste is so hot idk why)

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) Brat taming. Not him doing the taming but the one being tamed if you catch my drift. wink wink.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) Most likely as experienced as a teenager, so barely. He didn't have enough time after his teen years and didn't really make any real effort to go out and meet someone

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying) Mating Press: His partner's legs in the air while absolutely annihilating their hole and they become a moaning mess under him would turn him on immensely Back-shots possibly???? anyone with me on this?

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous? etc.) He's extremely serious. He might unintentionally do something but for the most part, very serious.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) Pretty well groomed. He takes good care of his hair, not that there's much. He's blond I'm pretty sure and also white, yeah I don't think he has much hair. BUT, I think he has pubic hair that he keeps trimmed whenever he has the time. Otherwise I think he's pretty hairless in terms of body hair, I'd say he's almost hairless

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect) Very intimate, he sees sex as an intimate act with his partner. That being said tho, he will like it rough if he's in the right mood for it.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon) I don't think he masturbates when he can be with his s/o. Like if you are in the army with him and are on deployment at the same time then he wouldn't jack off really. But, if his s/o aren't with him on deployment or even the military, then he would jack off when in the mood.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks) Size kink Breeding kink some light bondage maybe maybe begging to and I also think he'd be into sub/dom dynamics (dk if that's a kink tho)

L = Location (favorite places to do the do) Probably in the comfort of his own bedroom. He prefers the darkness and familiarity of it.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going) Any form of intimacy would get him hot and bothered. The man seems very touch starved to me, so if his s/o for examples puts their hand on his inner thigh etc he would get a boner pretty quickly

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) Something that would cause any pain to him or his s/o in any capacity. He deals with enough pain and suffering in his job, rather not have it in his love life

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) Probably more of a receiver, idk maybe it's his mask but I cannot Imagine him giving most of the time. He'd do it if you'd beg ask tho

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.) Think snice slow and sensual in the beginning but towards the middle and end, would probably become rougher and would quicken his pace

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.) Prefers to have sex but, if there isn't time for that, why not?

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.) Not much of a risk taker, again, he deals with a lot of that at work and would rather not bring it into his sex life.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?) I think three, maybe four on some days. He's got good stamina but isn't y'know… Hercules

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?) Doesn't own toys himself but is open to trying some with his partner

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) I think he'd tease a fair bit, but not too much. Think will enjoy it more if his s/o is easily frustrated and begs for him to do something or stop the teasing

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.) Pretty quiet. Will let out a lot of groans and a few moans here and there

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character) I think he'd like to get his ass eaten more than getting a blowjob. Like his s/o's wet tongue rimming him while stretching his hole and muscly ass while his bent over a couch will drive him crazy

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) Think a nice 7 in are hiding in those pants. He's British so maybe uncut? and also pretty thick

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?) I think he doesn't have that high of a sex drive bet when he does wanna have sex? He will be a beast in every way

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) I hc that he as some form of Insomnia and sex while relax him, so he'll fall asleep pretty quickly. Especially if he has his partner in his arms

──────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────────────

Hi again, I've got a week 'till college starts and Monsoons are happening which is making me horny. Idk why but rain makes me so horny. ANYWAYS. How was your day, mine was fucking tiring. Also, has anyone reading this ever played the game Rain World? That is literally THE most PERFECT game I've played. It's incredible. If you like open-world games, then definitely check it out anyway, I hope you enjoyed this... have a lovely day, and may you see Ghost from CoD in your dreams (Ik I want to)

[thefirstknife]

Seeing some of the latest whining over on Twitter, I think I've realized part of the problem: the content creators who have made playing D2 their life think it's "too easy" and that "toxic casuals are ruining things" because they refuse to admit they're simply too skilled to find a huge challenge anymore. But instead of rebranding to something else and moving on to learn a new game where they'll face challenge and struggle they continue to insist that the game is bad foe catering to "the lowest common denominator". Some of them also seem kind of entitled? Lime the idea that any no-name players (aka people who aren't Big Names in the fandom) could possibly do amazing snd outplay them feels like they're being cheated out of what they're "owed" as their Top Player Bragging Rights? But not everybody who puts in the work to get good at the game engages with the fandom, either. It just feels a lot like some of them think "I put in the work to master it, so nobody else should be allowed to match me and also it needs to keep up with me because I made this game my life". Feels very weird and entitled to me. And I say this as a person who has played some games so much that the highest difficulty settings are a breeze! I just accept that I've mastered it and move on when I want challenge.

Oh yeah, the new elitist dickhead whining is live in the community and it's the same thing as always. Agreed with what you wrote! I think streamers just literally want things to only be "difficult" for them and impossible for everyone else so they can feel special. They can deny it all day long, but there is no logical reason to want FEWER people to play an exciting competition and for FEWER people to feel like they can complete it. Because if people feel like they can't, they won't bother. Why would I waste my time? I'm not getting paid to play the game.

Day 1 raid race is a community contest, meant for the community, aka all players. It's not "special contest for top players only," it's a contest for everyone. It's supposed to be something everyone tries out and does their best, as well as something that is reasonably achievable for more than a grand total of 12 players.

Over the years, Bungie has been hard at work turning raids into an activity that more people will want to play and finish. Including adjusting the way day 1 race is happening and when. They WANT more people to participate which is evident through lowering the amount of grind needed to be ready and moving the race to the weekend, and now extending it to 48 hours. This helps everyone; the community and the devs.

More below:

The moment the day 1 raid race is accessible, that means more people will attempt it and more people will realise that they ARE good enough to raid and complete the contest mode. When the raid race is locked to a power level grind that nobody outside of people playing the video game for a living can achieve, that drastically reduces the number of people who will enter the race. When the raid race is releasing in the middle of the week, nobody outside of streamers will be able to compete. Now, day 1 raid race is no longer limiting in ways that we, the players, can't control.

This means more people can attempt it and at that point, we're dealing with pure numbers. More people attempting means that more people will finish. So when streamers are whining about "numbers," they're whining about the simple hard cold unchangeable logic of math. More people than ever are playing, more people than ever are attempting, more people than ever were able to watch the whole race and figure that they have a chance, and then they had plenty of time to try. This resulted in more completions than ever. Very little to do with the raid being "easy." It wasn't. It was accessible.

There are probably incredibly good players out there who couldn't participate before because they didn't have time or weren't available off work or couldn't ruin their mental and physical health over a 24 hour video game contest. There are probably perfectly average players who can still complete the raid race if they have more time to practice.

And this bothers content creators, because it's telling them that they're not special. Some Joe Shmoe with a 6 year old PC and $5 headset might be incredibly good at Destiny, possibly even better than them, but he didn't have time to compete before. Now he does, because Bungie removed the limit that a player can't control and the content creators are fucking mad as hell because Joe Shmoe, 47, a dad of 3, can finish the contest mode.

They keep insisting this is not the reason they are mad; they're mad because.... uh.... Contest mode is supposed to be SUPER HARD and it's an EXCLUSIVE EVENT that happens TWICE A YEAR!!!! And like. Yeah? Joe Shmoe has the same feeling about it. Joe Shmoe also gets two days a year to participate in a community event. Again, content creators are slowly learning that they're not special and it's a hard hitting truth. Also if more people are playing the raid race, then they're not watching them. That's gotta hurt as well. It's at least 5 fewer subs.

I am so fucking done with their bullshit and their repeated attempts to demean everyone's accomplishments by yelling about the raid being easy and bad and whatever. They are sad people with a void in their hearts.

The raid was absolutely hard. More people than EVER attempted it and MANY haven't been able to complete it. The raid wasn't "easy" in the sense they mean it (they mean easy = bad), it was different. It required different skills and it had a different goal and a different fantasy to invoke in players. Every single one of those bitches used every known cheese and meta tactic to brute force every damage phase and every mechanic, to the point of many of them not figuring out an entire mechanic in the final encounter. They straight up did not understand a mechanic and then dare to say that it was easy. But yeah. They were grasping at every broken build possible and then whining about it being easy. Well I did it with 30 resilience. I am better.

They are absolutely entitled. They feel like they are owed everything in this game because they've been here since 2014 and that if the game is not catering to them, then it's objectively bad. Literally, as you said, they've mastered the game and they're bored of it. But hey, there's money in clickbait about negative stuff so they will keep being miserable playing something they obviously don't like anymore.

I'm so done with those assholes. The raid was an absolute BLAST for me. It was super fun, it was really difficult and it took a long time to get it done, but my team did it, even through a horrible bug that cheated us out of a clear 10 hours early. The raid is SUPER fun, it's an excellent new addition to the raid roster, super helpful for newer players and newer raiders. The mechanics are really smooth and simple, they don't require a lot of callouts, but still rely a LOT on coordination of the whole team. Incredible work threading the line between an incredibly fun raid that is also accessible to everybody. I'll be doing it a lot, it's a really chill experience that still gets your adrenaline going. Bungie did an amazing work with it and I absolutely love it.

I cannot FATHOM a mindset that people have where they want people to NOT be able to experience raids. The most bizarre thing in the world to me. Raids are PEAK content in the game that devs spend a lot of time making and that is currently not being played as much as they want, which is actually a problem resource wise. Since they take so much resources to create, but aren't being used, it's a shame.

This raid was absolutely made with that in mind. They want more people to play to raids. This raid is "easy" in the sense that it is accessible. And there's nothing those assholes hate more than accessibility, I guess. God forbid people who paid for the expansion get to play the expansion. That includes the day 1 contest mode race absolutely. It's for the whole community, not for 50 people with a twitch.tv account.

Every content creator whining about this is a bitch who does not care about the health of the game or the community. They want a game made for them, and only them. They think they own it and that it's good when only 3% of the players play raids. They want every regular player to suffer and leave, to not have fun and to not experience these amazing activities.

They want the game to die.

[uchihakeimei]

The simp-ification of Kaisagi is my 13th reason, I'm not even gonna lie chief. Why, whyyy are most Kiis fics like that. Why is Isagi always the poor submissive uke who cries and begs, like, have you seen THEM?? Are y'all sure that any of them would be screaming and crying?? Let's be real, if Isagi saw Kaiser choking himself he would lend a helping hand 😭 God they're so amazing. And crazy. And sick. And batshit insane. I love them a normal amount, I swear-

And I love red-flag-Kaiser. Him being a total asshole, the master of gaslightining, of poor excuses and ghosting. The dude does NOT know how to handle a healthy relationship. He would go crazy if Isagi ever tried to ghost him for a whole day, though. Like, the nerve.

I'm absolutely living for the current Kaiser, crumbling and falling into desperation. I need to see him at his lowest, where not even Ness can help him up. I need to see Isagi step on him and rise. Yet I don't know how this will conciliate with my desire to see PXG win… My boy Rin needs to step on both of them and take his rightful crown. Ugh, I just love all of them. Can't both teams win?? Ego can change football rules, right??

(You brought up two ships that I absolutely despise too, NaruHina and SasuSaku. I barely consider them canon since it's just a poor attempt of catering to heteronormativity. To me they don't even exist. Yes, I do dislike Kainess, but not this much, at least it makes sense somehow. But Kishimoto straight up decided to pull these two ships out of his sorry ass lmfao) I sure would love to say that I miss Naruto, but then I end up remembering that shitty ending and the nostalgia fades… I do really miss its villains though!

Facts, sister.

I have never really understood the attraction in one person of a pairing being absolutely down bad for the other- like, is it really fun when it's so one sided?

In some fics, you can just see the author bias, like its so blatant- one partner is absolutely on their knees for the other.

(Although, I don't exactly mind if it's a pwp, iykwim, it's okay if that's Isagi's kink, no kinkshaming here ;p

Is it unrealistic? Possibly.

Is it kinda hot? Yes)

What really grinds my gears are the character driven fics in which none of them are actually in character.

I see this a lot in Victuuri fics too- some make Yuuri a total BAMF Badass and Victor's completely down bad for him- to the point that Victor's always the one apologising, no matter if Yuuri is in the wrong too.

Kaiser and his everything- character style, arc, personality- is so delicious, I just wanna gobble him up lol

If only everyone could win in a football match... (Ego make it happen please)

NaruHina and SasuSaku... I could rant about these two ships and the travesty that was the ending all day.

Hinata and Sakura and their obsession over those two was so pathetic. The fact that the boys were given to them as reward for persevering in their love makes me want to kill something. And everything after the war arc ended was a way rapidly drive off all the fans of the series.

Like, even if you somehow look past their shitty marriages of convenience and the sheer insult that was The Last, what the fuck was that Hokage Inauguration episode. The sheer anger I feel at the thought of that episode and the fact that people defend that bullshit is going to make me end up at the therapist. Naruto not getting to attend his own inauguration as Hokage was a garbage joke and nothing and no one will ever convince me otherwise.

Sasuke and Naruto deserved to end up together- and no, them being spirit brothers is a garbage reason to not ship them because it's not even fucking true. Transmigration and reincarnation are not synonyms, people.

Personally, I think Kishimoto also wanted them to end up together, but he wasn't allowed to do that. The official art is so couple-y, it's not even subtle. To say nothing of what he wrote in his own series.

Indeed KaiNess makes a hell of a lot more sense then SasuSaku and NaruHina. Atleast Kaiser and Ness are friends- toxic yes, but still friends.

[brianlesshetaliawritings]

if you're still taking requests - nsfw alphabet with Austria

Austria NSFW alphabet

i couldn’t tell whether i wanted him to be submissive or not.. so i kinda did both. also i wrote this in a he and you sort of way and i dont know if i like it or not..?? feel this stuff isnt that accurate but whatever..

warnings: nsfw obviously, kinks vary alot, nothing too intense unless spanking counts. just say if you want me to add one since i cant really think of anything really in here

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He either goes right to sleep or he might drink some water then take a bath after a bit of time laying with you. It mostly depends on what happend, how long it lasted, and how his day went.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He likes his hands alot, theyre help him play instruments, plus you seem to like them alot when he uses them on you.

Roderich's an ass guy, maybe thighs. But his favoritee part yours is your lips, they can do all sorts of things and that makes him feel drawn to them often.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Prefers pulling out and cumming on ur tummy, it's easier to clean that way. Also, even if he's not a big fan of cum, the image is really nice when he sees it.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He wants to masturbate to the sight of you touching yourself, but it'll take awhile for him to admit that to you. Oh, and he wants to try out some roleplay but that he'll probably never admit it.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Yeah, only with being submissive though since Hungary used to dominate him a lot. Probably not much experience domming with his partner though, maybe he slept with a couple other people beforehand.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

I don't think he's a fan of really complex positions so he usually goes for cowgirl or missionary, lazy doggy too possibly if hes being penetrated.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Roderichs serious during sex, he'll chuckle at anything silly that might happen for a bit though, then continue on like normal.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He isn't all that hairy to begin with but he shaves once it becomes noticable to him.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He's not too romantic during sex but he does make sure to sneak a few kisses in, he also tries to have a good amount of eye contact with you too.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Not too often, maybe once a week or less if you two have been together alot that week.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Roleplay

Spanking(on you, bare hands or with a riding crop. both work.)

Pegging (him)

Wax play (both)

Lingerie (both)

Food play (both)

Bondage (you, he would try it maybe once or twice.. ten times so far)

Edging (you)

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

In bed, just more convenient for him and also more comfortable. Maybe in the tub, but you'll have to be in charge.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

I feel that he has sensitive thighs that like getting rubbed, so keep a look out for that. Likes hair pulling as long as it isn't too rough on him, gentle tugs make him excited. Sitting on his lap would end with interesting results too.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything gross, I think he really really hates spitting and stuff like that. He can't hande it.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

I would say he's pretty friendly with oral, isn't it's biggest fan but never against it. He's real good at it, and this is a good opportunity for that hair pulling I mentioned earlier also. Not against getting his dick sucked at all.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Can't go all that fast for various reasons, so his speed can go from slow to about average. He likes to take his time though, so slow preferrably.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Not a fan. He has once probably, but it just isn't his thing. He'd rather savour these sorts of activities for as long as possible, like he does with other things he enjoys.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

No risks, but would experiement. He's willing to try things you mention most of the time, and things he might be interested in. Risking getting caught isn't something he'd do, actually, it'd probably haunt him if he did. Just a bit.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He can up to 5. He'd do it for even more if he didn't get absolutely exhausted. Rounds last for awhile too. As mentioned, he likes to take his time with these sorts of things. Results can vary depending on if he's dom or sub, or on how he's feeling that day. Usually tries to get more than one in.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Hmm.. Excluding that riding crop from earlier, not too many. And there's also the bondage too, if that counts. Once bought you a vibrator so he could watch as you use it.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Oh, definitely. Just enough to make you want more. He finds it really entertaining to see you all riled up.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He ain't quiet. No screaming, just mostly moans and groans. He would also talk quit a bit, not constantly, but he will. Pants everytime he finishes because he's tired.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Horny guy when drunk, like really really horny. This has ended in chaos for him multiple times.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Uncut, average size. No hair, he just doesn't really grow it.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Pretty high, would like to have sex four times or maybe even more a week. Masturbates otherwise, although he really prefers to have sex instead.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

fifteen minutes to two hours. Depends if he took a bath or not, even if he doesn't he still does need time to relax afterwards and catch his breath. Plus he'd talk with you a bit, most likely on whos cleaning this in the morning.

[thessalian]

Thess vs Valid Critique

For all I am still hugely excited about having Silent Hill 2 (and frustrated beyond all reason at some of the bullshit going on around it, which I will go into momentarily), I'm a little less mopey and a little more accepting, if grudgingly, of my various limits. I pushed too hard the last few weeks and I need an actual rest, so today was largely about putting together some homemade instant hot chocolate mix (because 'tis the season for the warm drinks to come out) and playing Wildermyth.

Part of those limits is the bloody flu vaccine. My left arm still hurts, mostly around the injection site, and while I'm feeling a bit better after way more sleep than I suppose most people tend to need, I'm still a little wrecked. I mean, don't get me wrong - if the vaccine hits me this hard, it's just as well to get it because a bad case of flu would probably be a nightmare. Just ... you know. Same old "everything bad is intensified and I hate it" complaint. So after measuring and sifting and cleaning various powders off my countertops, a game with relatively simple gameplay and still a reasonable amount of story was pretty much just the thing.

As to Silent Hill 2, obviously I still want to keep playing it, and I will, once I feel a little better. I don't know how long that'll take, but it will still be there. I think part of my grumpiness about it is wanting to in some way stick it to some of the aforementioned bullshit surrounding it. The neckbeards are one thing - even if "vandalising the entire Wikipedia page with false review scores and incel rants" just makes me roll my eyes so hard they're in danger of falling out of my head. Like, they're pretty clearly taking a leaf out of the current Republican Party handbook - if the facts don't match up with their beliefs? Lie your ass off. They're just getting louder and angrier lately because of how obvious it is becoming that they are no longer the majority, and honestly never were. While corporations are never going to be anybody's friends, they do at least acknowledge that half of the people doing the bitching about how "woke" gaming has become either had no intention of buying the game in the first place or will buy it regardless of how "woke" it is, and thus actually being inclusive will get them more money in the long run. The neckbeards tried a certain amount of lying with statistics in the form of, "Look at this huge percentage of people who don't really care about that DEI shit!" but the wording they're using makes it pretty clear that that huge percentage of people may not be desperate for it, but certainly aren't against it either - not the way the neckbeard assholes are. Most of us can put up with a game that doesn't go out of its way to be inclusive because we've been doing so for decades - we're used to the eye candy and the carbon-copy YAGWD protagonist, anyway. The thing is, most of us also understand that it's not "shoehorning in minorities where they don't belong" because ... y'know, people who aren't Yet Another Grizzled White Dude do actually exist, and seeing them shouldn't be the end of the fucking world.

Then there's the Guardian review. Now, I mostly trust the Guardian on reviews ... but I admit that a lot of those are for lesser-known indie titles. Whoever wrote the review for the Silent Hill 2 remake seemed to have been going out of his way to look at nothing more but the surface level of the game. Honestly, it's not that the reviewer didn't like the game that bothered me; it's that the review itself was apparently just an excuse to shit on a game from a great height and get paid for it. My old Theatre Studies teacher would have looked over his review and not only given it a failing grade, but read it out to the entire class as an example of what not to do. It was fairly clear that as someone who had heard all the hype but was "too young to play it at the time", that he had very different expectations of what "an excellent video game" looks like. If he'd talked at all about his expectations instead of "I don't care about Angela; I've got enough to do looking for my two-dimensional maybe-dead wife and for some reason doing busywork like gluing together records", or if he'd explained why he felt those elements didn't work, I'd respect it, even if I didn't agree. But for fuck's sake, if you're going to critique something, critique it; don't just lob a few insults at it and call it a day. Especially not when you're getting paid for it. You want to just insult a game you didn't like? That's your right, but go do it on Steam or Metacritic like everyone else.

I mean, is it wrong that the main reason I get upset about this type of behaviour isn't out of protectiveness of a game / book / franchise / even person I admire and more out of wanting a better debate partner than this? Like, I will hear you out all day if you give me some kind of explanation; I will be grateful for the new perspective, even if I don't agree, and then we can at least have a discussion about how our respective viewpoints affect our enjoyment of the ... whatever it is we're discussing. But just insulting it leaves no room for discussion--

Whiiiiiiiich is why they do it. It's harder to challenge a definitive but subjective-as-fuck statement. They don't want a debate; they want to be right. Well, fine. I like being right too. But things you like aren't things to be 'right' or 'wrong' about, and if I'm going to feel obliged to justify my enjoyment of something, I want a decent debate with a rational human being, not a kid on the playground using offensive language as an everything-proof shield against an opinion that wouldn't even really hurt them if they were as firm in their opinion as they make themselves out to be but which they can't even listen to for some reason.

Gods, some people's egos are weird.

[anulithots]

Happy Sunday!! A few questions about The Land of The Fallen Fairies to start off your week!! 💚

What's your favorite part about writing Anuli's story? What's your least favorite part (if there is one)?

How does Kamari's life change after all that occurs with Anuli? It seems fae is affected most directly by faer choices. It's very interesting!

Lastly... please tell me more about Ankh. So mysterious. So intriguing. I must know everything. 👀

HAPPY SUNDAY!! Thank you for the questions. (I love them)

Question 1) Favorite and least favorite part about writing this one:

My favorite part about writing Anuli is faer ridiculous prose. Fae will talk to faerself, go off on tangents, spent an obscene amount of time describing the stories of dust and spiders and fae will have morbid descriptions of feelings. (Bad feelings get metaphorical body horror, whereas good feelings get nature surrealism.)

I basically get to take a feeling or a random thought and explore it as Anuli, and I can pretty much do this whenever I want.

(I also like Anuli and Kamari scenes because they are so so silly... before they get tragic... which is also fun!)

My least favorite part about writing Anuli is something I hope to stop doing, because it isn't really part of writing Anuli inherently, but more so because of the storytelling method I was following before.

Basically: I hate writing long scenes/like a normal novel.

I prefer episodic snippets.

For Kamari, this isn't an issue, faer prose is direct and concise, so I can get through scenes within a day.

I spend months writing one Anuli scene because of how much fae thinks/how different faer prose style is.

The workaround I'm trying to employ is writing small snippets. So any one of Anuli's tangents counts as one 'scene' (similar to how I write Kamari's snippets, except for Anuli it would be a lot of these snippets in one larger 'scene')

(I'm not going to rewrite my long scene to be snippets unless it works out that way tho... this could be one of those 'multi-part episodes'. )

The funny thing is that I was doing this (a bunch of Kamari and Anuli fluff) before I got to a 'pivotal scene' (everything changed when the fire nation attacked)... and I wrote a long scene. Granted, I was writing multiple sections of it at once (Anuli's prose is soo weird, I'm basically doing multiple drafts on different pages at once and I'll have to puzzle piece them together later)

TL;DR - the plan for Anuli is to get faer storyline to a place where I can write one 'scene' in a longer arc. (Again, similar to Kamari, but Anuli takes a LOT longer to have any plot development because of Anuli's thinking.)

2) How did Anuli's decisions affect Kamari?

Anuli pretty much ruined Kamari's life.

Because of this one decision (hence my long scene because this one moment literally changes everything) Kamari's entire life went downhill, and Anuli never stopped regretting it.

(And Anuli didn't even know what fae did was wrong until Kamari got upset... and ANULI HAS HIGH EMPATHY SO IT FEELS LIKE FAE IS DYING WHEN KAMARI IS UPSET WHOOPDEDOO <3)

Kamari's life as the High Protector? Gone. All for nothing.

Kamari's life with Ankh? Gone. Now Kamari would have to kill Ankh. Wonderous!

And the thing that does it for Anuli is that (once Anuli realizes that it's faer fault) Kamari did everything for Anuli, and fae ruined everything.

Yet Kamari still cared afterwards.

Fae shouldn't. It would've turned out better for faer if fae didn't.

And Anuli will never be able to fix it. No matter how hard fae tries.

3) the mysterious Ankh

(When I wrote that 'Ankh's smile did not match faer face', I did not think that it would actually be hard to draw. I was a fool.)

And I think part of the reason that Ankh is so ~mysterious~ is because

I

don't

have

much

for

faer

so I hide that <3

But anywhosies! Here's what I have for faer so far, I'm still figuring faer out though, so some things are subject to change!

(Also I'm almost to the point where both Kamari and Ankh get to Ankh's tree and that should have some more information about faer.)

Ankh doesn't show much emotion. Fae doesn't feel anything that strongly for it to show upon faer face. Rather, fae is practical and observant, and fae cares so so much.

Ankh shows that fae cares with advice and suggestions. Fae also trained to be a healer.... and a comforter apparently... so both! Fae can do both!

(Healers and comforters are two different roles. Healers will heal wounds and more short-term ailments. Comforters help with long term issues and general health. Ankh wanted to be a healer, but the others pushed faer to be a comforter, because it didn't match faer personality. It made faer look cold and heartless compared to other comforters.)

Ankh doesn't realize that fae comes across as cold and heartless to others, nor does fae particularly understand why others get so hung up about their emotions. ("Why would you feel sad about that? It's only [logical explanation])

A lot of younglings love Ankh though. Particularly the ones that are more fallen fairy-esque than the rest. Ankh does like being around them, and faer tree. Fae doesn't understand how someone would fret over such small, small issues: like the way Ankh phrases things Everything is fine. Why ruin that?

Ankh comes from the Receiver territory. And in the Receiver territory, they value independence and a lack of influence from outside forces.

And Ankh doesn't seem like the best influence to some of the guardians. (Why is fae so harsh!? Why would we let faer be around our younglings!?

Meanwhile the younglings: you are our favorite fairy ever.

Ankh: None of you make any sense.

The younglings: *laughter*)

And this is the RECIEVER TERRITORY. It's so so rare for them to out a fallen fairy because they value independence so much.

But if someone makes them uncomfortable....

Yea so they collectively gave Ankh up to the ambassadors.

Ankh, being practical, decided to make them regret that. Fae would chew faer claws to sharp points if it meant fae would survive. Fae would kidnap/convince the High Protector to stand down because this entire system is so ridiculously dumb. Fae would....

Well, fae can't exactly distance faerself from the Receiver Territory. Faer tree is there. And Ankh needs to regulate the ~weird feelings~ when fae is away from faer tree. Fae hates that.

... so perhaps not a revenge plot. Maybe a 'forget you all I'm doing what is right and fixing your mess... your welcome' plot.

(I'm still working on Ankh, but I think faer thing is supposed to be about society, that you can't really be satisfied without society accepting you. That Ankh has to fix it first... but by the stars that is difficult.)

__________________________________

THANK YOU FOR THE QUESTIONS!!!!

Let me know if you wish to be added or removed from the tag list! <3

@waitingforthesunrise @sm-writes-chaos @holdmyteaplease @full-on-sam @osbob-the-existent @awleeofficial @clearcloudlesssky @gummybugg

more ramblings

I JUST REALIZED THAT IF KAMARI'S RESPONSE TO SOCIETY IS THAT FAE NEEDS TO COMFOM, AND ANKH'S RESPONSE IS TO FIX IT...

then they juxtapose each other!! YAY!!

(And Anuli doesn't really care about anyone other than Kamari, so faer response to that is to ruminate and regret and punish faerself)

[tomurasprincess]

Kinktober Day 24: Monster (The Asylum)

Day 24: Monster Title: The Asylum Pairing: Mothman Shigaraki x Reader Word Count: 3.1k Warnings: Noncon, monster mind control stuff, oviposition, cumflation, belly bulges, breeding, forced orgasms, some slight descriptions of gore and blood, yandere Note: The Trans-Allegheny Lunatic Asylum is a real place, although parts of what I wrote is fake, mostly the part where they close down a second time in the fic. IRL, they’re still open and doing tours. Tagging @ichor-and-symbiosis​ and @kazooli​ as two of the OG Mothura writers 👀

Sequel: The Brood

Kinktober Masterlist

You’ve always loved urban exploring, going to old mental asylums and hospitals to look around and see the decay of places that used to be so bustling with people. You especially liked the places that had tragic pasts, the ones where horrific things occurred. It sounds morbid to anyone you talk to about your interests, but it was the truth. You’ve always believed in monsters and ghosts just out of sight of humanity, lurking in the dark corners of abandoned places.

That’s why you instantly planned a trip to the Trans-Allegheny Lunatic Asylum the second you heard about it. It had been abandoned years ago due to extreme abuse of patients. A historical society had moved in later, renovating the place and making a history tour of it that also did ghost tours at night.

But even they ended up abandoning the place due to the fake ghost tours apparently starting to become real ghost tours. People began to see creatures out of the corner of their eyes, something they said was much larger than a human, with wings on its back and piercing red eyes.

It was initially dismissed as overactive imaginations, people who wanted to see ghosts so badly that they were seeing things that weren’t there. Or people who just wanted to start tall tales  for attention and were flat out making things up in order to scare the rest of the group.

But then the disappearances started to happen. It was almost always young women who got separated from the tour group, although a few times it was a boyfriend and girlfriend who got lost together. The tour guides scoured every inch of the asylum looking for the missing people, but they found no trace of them. At first it was dismissed as the people getting scared and running off without telling anybody.

Until one day, a regularly scheduled tour group stumbled across the bodies. Not the bodies of the missing girls, but their partners. They were viciously torn apart, with limbs scattered all over the room. Their blood covered the walls, the floor, even the ceiling of the room. The women were alive but traumatized, rocking back and forth in a corner of the room absolutely covered in blood, none of which was their own.

They told the same tales that the rest of the people did. They were captured by a monster, around 8-9 feet tall, with large moth-like wings and red eyes. The creature was surprisingly gentle to them, they said, at least until they saw that they were with someone. The creature had become enraged, tearing their partner to pieces as they watched. They knew for certain that they would be next, their eyes squeezed tight as they waited for their death.

But the creature did nothing, simply turning away and leaving the room like they were not what the creature wanted.

Although everyone agreed that something horrible had happened to the young women, none of them believed their story. They had stayed in that room for several days, covered in the blood of their loved ones, not knowing if they were ever going to make it out. Of course they were traumatized, thinking they saw monsters. But monsters aren’t believed to exist, and so everyone began to look for a human murderer that was never found.

The asylum tried to recover from the tragedy, but it was never able to. The amount of bad press they got for having lax safety standards and not taking care of their tour groups caused everybody to stay away. Finally, having no other choice in the matter, the asylum had closed.

When you heard this story, you were over the moon excited. Not just a historical landmark, but also a place with a possible real life monster sighting. Nothing was going to stop you from going there and seeing the place for yourself.

And now here you stand, in front of the building with a backpack full of supplies slung over your shoulder. You had your phone, flashlights with spare batteries, a spare change of clothes, matches and lighters, even a rope and various other tools should something happen inside of the building.

And so, with a deep excitement bubbling up in your stomach, you find your way through a hole in the fence and walk through the front door. The first thing you see is the reception desk with various odds and ends left over from the closure. There are even still brochures describing the various types of tours and listing prices.

You walk down the first corridor you see, going past various closed off rooms that look to be basic examination rooms. There is surprisingly little decay, mostly everything still looking rather clean and intact besides a thick layer of dust and cobwebs covering everything. You’re a bit discouraged but decide to continue on to see if things get more interesting.

After all, the murders occured in the basement, and you’re not anywhere close to that yet.

Soon you find yourself in the medical ward where the patients were kept, and you instantly realize one of the reasons this hospital was so nightmarish. The rooms are even smaller than jail cells, leaving barely enough space for patients to lay down in. There are so many rooms of that exact size that you wonder how the staff could accurately take care of the amount of patients there had to be. But you remember your research, remember the fact that they couldn’t.

That was why so many brutal procedures were performed such as lobotomies, in order to keep the peace at the asylum and make things easier for the doctors and nurses. You give a quick shudder and begin to move on, feeling a strange sensation that you desperately want to get away from.

The decay gets worse and worse the closer you get to the basement, rust and decay beginning to cover every surface you see. You walk past some of the surgery rooms and feel horror at the utensils and instruments you see in them. The historical society tried to keep things as accurate as possible, and as such, they had kept most of the equipment that you would see back in those days.

You’re beginning to wonder if this is a good idea, as that strange sensation continues to worsen and worsen. You realize with a start what this feeling actually is.

It feels like someone is watching your every movement. You whirl around, shining your flashlight in every direction as you try to see what’s watching you. But there’s nothing but darkness and the decaying walls of the hospital. You shake your head, laughing quietly at the fact that you’re spooked out by a few weird shadows and an odd feeling.

You’re not going to let it stop you from your goal, however, and you continue forwards until you get to the doors of the basement. The feeling here is overwhelming, simultaneously telling you to run and move forward all at the same time. The conflicting emotions leave you off balance and light headed, and you reach your hand out instinctively when you sway on your feet. You touch a section of the wall and instantly pull your hand back.

The wall is warm, not cold like it should be. A sense of unease crawls up your spine, and you decide then and there that it’s time to go. Making it to the basement is not worth this, whatever it is you’re feeling. But then you hear a soft humming and the flapping of wings, coming from deep within the basement of the hospital.

Instead of being terrified, however, you feel entranced. It’s one of the most beautiful things you’ve ever heard, and it’s calling you. You open the basement door without even thinking about it, walking down the stairs in a dreamy haze. You don’t even pay attention to how heavy the rot here is, how the walls are entirely blackened by decay that spreads out like veins on a body.

You don’t pay attention when the door slams closed behind you, locking you in with whatever is calling you closer. All you can think about is getting to that beautiful sound, that lonely haunting call that seems to burrow deep into your brain. You walk as if you’re in a trance, turning corridors that you’ve never seen before but somehow know where they’re going.

Finally, you get to a door that is deep within the bowels of the basement, a bright red door that seems to beckon you inside. You push open the door with no hesitation, walking through and letting it close behind you.

And you finally come face to face with the creature. He is about 9 feet tall, towering over your small form. He’s not overly muscular, but he has a thin wiry look to him that says he is deceptively strong. His red eyes bore into you like they’re staring directly into your soul. On his back are two massive wings, spread to their full wing span and utterly gorgeous.

The creature makes a small chittering noise as he motions you towards him, and you follow like he’s a puppeteer holding your strings. He pulls you tightly into his body, burying his nose into your neck and taking a deep whiff of your skin. His hot breath on your sensitive skin pulls a shudder from you. and he tightens his grip as if he’s worried you’ll get away.

A long tongue pokes out of his mouth, licking at the pulse point that is frantically beating. “Mine,” he groans into your skin, sharp teeth grazing you. “Mate.” You’re lifted up off your feet before being laid down on the ground, hips in the air and face down on the floor. He rips your pants off easily, leaving your panties on as he lowers his head down. You feel a flash of embarrassment as he sniffs them like he sniffed your neck, groaning again as his tongue drags across the wet abric. “Fertile,” he whispers as he pulls your panties aside, “fertile mate.”

The haze parts from your mind long enough for you to feel a sharp flash of fear, and then his tongue is lapping at your folds and the fear is quickly chased away again. You dig your nails into the floor as you feel him work his tongue inside of you, using it to fuck you like a cock would. You gasp when he hits your cervix with his tongue and keeps going, wiggling against the barrier like he’s trying to break through it.

Something in his saliva causes your body to heat up and your muscles to loosen enough for him to batter his tongue harder against you and push through. Your scream echoes through the walls of the room, but not of pain. Instead, a fierce pleasure overtakes you as your cervix gives way to the creature’s tongue, allowing him to enter into your womb.

The feeling of this tongue wiggling around in your empty womb causes you to tip over the edge and cum around the creature’s tongue as he eagerly laps at your juices. He withdraws his tongue, causing you to let out a whine of disappointment, only to be surprised when you feel something prodding at your entrance. It doesn’t feel like a human cock at all, with ridges and bumps along the length and much thicker than a human cock would be.

You have a single moment to wonder how it will fit inside of you before it’s pushing in, stretching out your tight outer ring of muscles and causing a sharp burning in your lower stomach. You whine and try to pull away, only for the creature to let out a snarl as claws dig into your hips, causing your blood to drip down onto the pavement.

Even though there is no pain, only more pleasure, you learn your lesson and don’t try to move away as the thick cock slides even further into you. It’s so much thicker than anything you’ve ever taken before, and you’re shaking like a leaf when he finally bottoms out inside. You think he’ll start thrusting like a human male would, except that he doesn’t.

He keeps pushing, humping into you with sharp movements designed to force your cervix open even further. You squeal as the cock makes it past the barrier, burying deep inside of your womb. You glance down and let out a choked sob at the bulge in your stomach where the tip of the creature’s cock is.

“Pretty - pretty mate,” the creature says hesitantly, rolling his hips experimentally into you and drawing a groan from your throat. “Tomura,” he adds, and it takes you a second to realize that’s the creature’s name.

“Tomura,” you murmur, and the creature chitters happily at the sound of your voice saying the name. You try to think of something else to ask, maybe even to beg to be released as the haze seems to clear a bit, but Tomura begins to hum again, and you instantly smile in bliss as all of your concern fades away.

You feel something else pushing into your entrance, and it takes a long moment to realize what it is as you feel it slip up your stretched out tunnel.

Eggs. The creature is filling you with eggs. Instead of being horrified, however, you moan as they continue to move inside of you. There are multiple eggs at once, small and gooey, and they coat your insides with wetness as they make their way to your still stretched out cervix.

You feel them pass through the opening to plop down into your womb, and you cry out and cum hard, pussy wildly fluttering around Tomura’s cock. He lets out a deep grunt of pleasure as he rocks his hips against you, and you feel more eggs pushing into you. This time, a few of them get stuck against a spongy spot inside of you, and you scream out your orgasm, legs shaking and eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“Fuck, oh god, shit, Tomura - “ you babble mindlessly as more eggs push into you, “it feels so good, why does it - “

Before those eggs can push fully in, there are already more entering you, and you feel so incredibly full. They drop down into your no longer empty womb, wringing another orgasm from your tired body. The skin of your stomach is stretching, making you look bloated, and Tomura still isn’t done.

You lose track of time completely, only aware of your body twitching and convulsing as more and more eggs push up into you, settling into your womb with the rest of them. Your stomach already looks 9 months pregnant, and you can barely hold yourself up.

Tomura sees this, and he gently picks you up and lays you down on your back. “Pretty mate,” he leans and kisses your forehead, “look so good with my children. Our children.”

“Oh god, no more, please no more, I’m so full Tomura,” you whimper as more eggs push into you. “Please, so full - “

Tomura hums softly at you, and you smile with bliss as the final eggs plop down into your womb.  His movements become more savage, thrusting hard into you as he grunts and groans. The force of his thrusts has you sliding up, breasts bouncing and your belly jiggling. The feeling of the eggs moving around inside of you has you howling out your orgasm, blackness dotting the edge of your vision as you almost lose consciousness.

Finally, Tomura is finished, and his cock begins to twitch inside of you as hot ropes of cum fill you up, shooting directly into your womb where the eggs reside. You sob as you watch your stomach bulge out even more as the creature’s cum fertilizes the eggs inside. You can no longer see the dents and valleys of the eggs along your stomach, and you reach down to gently run your hand over your bloated stomach.

You can feel the eggs through the barrier of skin, and it causes your eyes to roll back at the pleasure. Tomura gives a soft, happy chirp as he places his hand over yours on your belly, rubbing it gently. He pulls out slowly, causing a mixture of your cum and his to gush out of your now gaping pussy.

He reaches down to pick you up as he walks towards a door in the back of the room that you hadn’t noticed before. You’re shocked by what you see when you walk through. It’s an utterly untouched room, still looking brand new and with none of the decay that covers the rest of the basement. There is no bed, but there is a pile of clean blankets and pillows in the corner, piled up high and in a circle.

A nest, you realize. It’s a nest. For you. He tucks you in gently, chirping again as his clawed hand runs over your pregnant belly. “Mate,” he says happily, “my pretty little mate.” He stands up and walks towards the door, turning to you one last time as his gaze narrows and darkens just a bit.

“No running. Don’t want to have to tie mate down.” He continues to gaze at you, as if waiting for something.

“I won’t run,” you say quietly, and the dark look on his face is gone instantly as he beams at you.

“Good mate, good.” And with that, he’s gone.

With his absence, some of the haze lifts and you’re able to realize the horror of the situation you’re in. Nobody knows where you are, and you’re trapped. Even if you wanted to run, you don’t think you could with how large your belly is. No escape and no help coming for you, and the creature already seems so possessive of you that he’s not going to let you easily escape.

If only you had listened to your instincts earlier, if only you hadn’t been so fascinated with the grotesque, if only you had simply chosen to stay home.

You’ve always believed in monsters. You just never thought you would find one.

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

Kinktober: @thewheezingwyvern​, @vixen-scribbles​, @katsukisprincess​, @hisoknen​, @trafalgar-temptress​, @leeswritingworld, @burnedbyshoto​, @bakugotrashpanda​, @dee-madwriter​, @kittycatkrissa​, @reinawritesbnha​, @yanderart​, @dabilove27​, @anxietyplusultra​, @flutterfalla​, @angmarwitch​, @nereida19​, @babayaga67​, @fromsunnywithlove​, @dabis-kitten​, @bakugos-cumsock​, @yumeneji​, @the-grimm-writer​, @iwaizumi-chan​, @slashersheart​, @bunnyywritings​, @bakarinnie​, @angie-1306​, @lalalemon101​​, @videogameboiwhowins​​, @f4nficbaby​​, @tenkoshimmy​, @baroque-baby​​, @bbyspiiice​​, @thirstyforthem2dmen​​, @blissfulignorance2000​, @bluecookies02-main​

[chateautae]

flirt | pjm. (m)

➵ summary :  park jimin is a notorious flirt, but so are you. when you both meet at a party after weeks of back and forth, it’s a matter of time before somebody gives in

➵ pairing : jimin x reader

➵ genre :  college!au, sexual tension, smut, pwp

➵ rating : 18+

➵ word count : 4k

➵ warnings : super suggestive flirting, alcohol consumption (both parties able to consent), swearing, light dom and sub themes, soft dom!jimin, brat!reader, little bit of brat-handling, dirty talk, praising but also degradation? it’s hot i promise, use of slut, slight body worshipping, mentions of oral, jimin is hot and yes that’s a warning in itself, breast play, unprotected sex, penetrative + rough sex, bit of angsty sex, creampie cause i seem to not like it any other way

➵ a/n : and my first jimin fic is here!! dear god i love this boy to the moon and back so i got a bit carried with him lmao, hopefully this isn’t terrible cause i still need to edit it but your support and feedback are always appreciated!! <3

2 hours.

2 hours since you first came to this party. You’ve bumped into at least a hundred people, danced your legs numb, God knew how many and what concoction of drinks were inebriating your system and still, you hadn’t seen Park Jimin the whole night. 

The only reason you even dragged yourself to this party was because of him. You were initially bailing on the annual ‘one-last-hurrah-before-midterms’ party because you, like everyone else here had midterms haunting them Monday. It was Friday night and as the ever diligent student, you were planning to study over the weekend.

Though your nagging best friend Hoseok had other plans, threatening you to come with every piece of dirt he had on you until he finally sprinkled Jimin’s name into the mix. You couldn’t lie, it was the only reason you decided to hell with your education, wiggled into a barely-there dress and waltzed in with Hoseok ready to take the night on.

But when you hadn’t seen Jimin at all, you were left annoyed, pissed off and with a headache raking your brain.

Seeing him was a selfish desire, one you’d develop after realizing you had met your match when you first encountered Jimin. You were always fairly notorious for your flirtatious habits and touchiness, a sort of trademark of yours and the same was always said about a ‘Park Jimin’ unknown to you, sometimes described to be an even bigger flirt.

It automatically intrigued you, curious of what kind of rival you secretly harbored until one day, you chanced upon Hoseok who just so happened to be with Jimin. 

At first, you didn't think Jimin could be a daring flirt. He had this sweet smile and disciplined way of speaking that screamed innocent to you, his mannerisms and demeanor shy and introverted. He didn’t make big moves and so you wrote him off as just that. 

But it wasn’t until you started seeing him outside your class’ building, alone, and multiple times after that, enough for you to realize he was anything but shy or innocent.

You ended up observing that a) he was sex on legs, b) easily flipped between the persona of an angel and a demon and c) anything he did could seem flirting. 

You two hit it off without a hitch, your flirtatious tendencies meeting to form a relationship of mutual interest. It was clear as day, both your actions almost always held some sort of unknown intentions behind them, your every saying a double meaning. 

It became the norm between you two, anytime you met turning into a conversation riddled with innuendos, suggestive lip-biting or eyes that couldn’t help but wander. And you weren't stupid, you could tell he wanted you just as much as you wanted him. You two were dangerous, testing the limits of either’s control, hoping someone would give in and only left disappointed when nobody did. 

So when Hoseok mentioned this party, and graciously added Park Jimin’s name to it, you knew this was your chance. A party with buzzing bodies, loud music and copious amounts of alcohol was bound to set him off, especially if you were dressed scandalously and felt bolder with liquid courage pumping through your system.  

But it’d been 2 hours, and you hadn’t seen him all night. You were taking another shot in the kitchen, sulking by yourself and reflecting on the fact that you’d been duped by Hoseok. This party became useless to you, a mere waste of your time as you quickly discarded your cup and began stomping out of the kitchen.

You ventured further into the house to look for Hoseok’s 5’10 ass, tell him he’s the worst best friend for lying to you and that you were leaving this disappointment of a party.

You stepped around people mindfully, dodging them until you rammed smack dab into someone’s back, scrambling for an apology before looking at the unaffected victim.

Park fucking Jimin.

“Y/N!” Jimin beamed, holding a drink in his hand as he smiled widely.

“Jimin, hey! I thought you didn’t come tonight.” You attempted biting back your smile from finally finding him, shouting over the bass of the music as you met him on the dance floor.

“I just ran late. You know me, of course I’d be here!” Jimin raised his drink to his plump lips and sipped, stepping side-to-side in rhythm with the music. 

You couldn’t make him out that well, the disco lights of whatever lights system the only means of seeing him in the dark, but you swear the smirky grin on his face as he scanned you over wasn’t just a figment of your imagination, ecstatic that you already seemed to be reeling him in. “Do you want a drink?”

“No, I already had-” You didn’t get to finish your sentence as someone’s raging body stumbled into yours suddenly, sending you off balance until Jimin reached out for you cautiously.

“Woah, easy there.” Jimin’s arms quickly held you, flashing a scolding look at the person who bumped into you and pulling you towards himself. “Are you here with someone tonight?”

“Yeah, Hoseok! I was looking for him.”

“Why’s that?”

“I.. wasn’t having fun, so I wanted to leave with him.” You swiftly masked the real truth, your voice becoming less of a shout as Jimin encased you, just a few centimeters between your bodies as you peered up at him, cheeks flushed with heat and alcohol.

“Leave with him? Damn, didn’t know you two were like that.” Jimin flashed you a suggestive look, raising his eyebrows.

“Shut up, you know we’re just best friends.” You both erupted into a fit of chuckles as you hit his chest, your hand smacking against his jacket and now that you were close, registered what a meal he looked like tonight; ripped black jeans, plain white t-shirt underneath a distressed jean jacket, all pulled together sexily by his tousled hair, small hoop earrings and a Chanel necklace decorating his neck.

Dear God, how many times you’ve ached to kiss that pretty, pretty neck.

You internally groaned, habitually drawing closer to him as you enjoyed the warmth of his body, nostrils filling with the familiar scent of his intoxicating cologne.

“So I hear you wanna have some fun.” Jimin perked up, eyes amused and hands smoothing over your sides slowly after faltering from your arms.

“Are you suggesting I’ll have fun with you?”

“Of course, gorgeous, but up to you how we do that.” Jimin stepped dangerously closer to you as his voice lowered, your face tucked into his chest as his body blocked other people from touching you.

Excitement shot to your center at his use of a pet name, a common occurrence during your exchanges though his choices of which always an added thrill. 

“And what if I just want to leave and eat at a diner instead?”

“Then I’d definitely take you, food and you? A win in my book.”

You cocked an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “Adding me to the mix suddenly makes it a win? I’m not the one on the menu, Park.” 

Jimin’s eyes seem to blow out, leaning down as his plushy lips ghosted your ear as he spoke, tone darkened, “We can change that, princess.”

A thrill shot throughout your body, hyper aware of his lips mere inches from your face as your heart began to race, turning towards him expectantly.

You began advancing slowly to decrease the gap between your mouths, feeling him inch forward in response, letting him hover just above your lips for a tease before you stopped, “I’d like to see you try, Park.”

Then you abruptly turned out of his hold and walked away, making it through a few people into a hallway, allowing yourself to breathe. You loved teasing Jimin, it was an incredibly entertaining pass time but dear God, did it knock the fucking wind out of you. 

You were mentally recuperating from the fact that he almost let you kiss him, distracted as you stepped away until someone suddenly snatched your arm and pinned you against the nearest wall. You were honestly shocked to see Jimin, surprised he actually took your bait and stayed on your trail to stop you. His dancing eyes held nothing but greed, evident even in the darkness of the party.

“You know just how to test people, don’t you?” Jimin warned as he narrowed his dangerous eyes at you, holding your hot-skinned wrists against the cool wall. 

“Of course I do, it makes things fun and last time I checked,”  You brought your face to his and left only an inch between you two, “that’s just what I want.”

Jimin visibly grew less tamed, glancing down towards your lips as he tried breathing controllably, “Careful what you wish for, princess. It might come true.” 

“And if that’s what I want?” You titled your head expectantly, licking your lips as you watched Jimin bite his own. He eyed you the whole time, making it a statement to drink you in every inch of you. 

You could smell the alcohol on him, assuming liquor was the only driving force behind his actions but then contemplated his level-headedness, his coherent speech and clear judgment in this moment.

Jimin was choosing to chase after you, choosing to not let you go after weeks of incessant back and fourth and you knew you were finally getting closer to exactly what you wanted. 

Park Jimin giving in. 

“You’re fucking hot.” Jimin commented, eyes eating you up hungrily.

“You’re hotter.” You grinned and leaned back against the wall, cleavage unintentionally popping out for him and Jimin’s look immediately shifted, bringing his body closer against yours.

“You look submissive as hell right now, is that what you like? To be dominated?”

“Only if you like to dominate.” 

Jimin could feel the reigns on his control snapping, biting down to contain his raw desire to fuck you. He’s been holding himself back, knowing you seemed willing on your end of the interactions but never wanting to take the leap in case it was all just an act. 

But as he watched you go along with his every comment, staring back at him with the same devious eyes and practically offering yourself to him in his hold, he knew you weren’t acting at all. 

“You talk a big game, but can you put your money where your mouth is?” Jimin leaned his hips against yours, ensuring you could feel his growing hardness. 

“My mouth can do a lot of fucking things, Park.” You jutted your hips into his.

Jimin shut his eyes frustratedly before he re-opened them, a downright obsidian colour taking them over.

“Go the fuck upstairs.” 

“Wh-”

“I said, go the fuck upstairs.” Jimin demanded, looking at you with conviction so searing you in fact did become submissive. 

“W-which room-” You didn’t complete your question as Jimin’s deft hands encased you and lifted you off the ground, bridal-style.

“Jimin-!” You exclaimed.

“Say another word and I’ll make sure you feel me in your throat.” 

You immediately swallowed your mouth shut as Jimin cluthed you to him, core alighting with desire as he carried you up the stairs. Jimin arrived at the second floor and rushed towards the first room with an ajar door, shutting it with your feet after entering.

He made towards the bed and practically threw you onto it, stepping away to lock the door before leaning against it, arms crossed and serious. 

“You sure you want this?” His voice came out considerate, no haste or pressure.

“Yes, Jimin.” 

“You’re completely sure?” 

You nodded incessantly. 

“I need your words, Y/N.”

“Yes.” You affirmed, unintentionally becoming submissive as you awaited him, and Jimin couldn't resist you, not any longer. He made towards your smaller figure on the bed and immediately crashed his lips onto yours, knee sinking into the mattress as he leaned over you, splaying you onto the bed.  

He held your wrists against the sheets, kissing you open as his plump lips worked tirelessly against your mouth. He continued to swallow you, opening up to catch all of you as he sank further downwards to feel your body arch into his.

His wet tongue glided over your lips and you welcomed him in lightspeed, letting his muscle entangle with yours hastily and you instantly loved the taste of him. 

Jimin’s kisses began deepening, exploring your mouth like he was dehydrated and your mouth was fresh water. His thigh began pressing against your core and you moaned into his mouth as Jimin disconnected from you, panting for air. 

“Don’t fucking do that.” He voiced frustratedly, his full lips swollen and pink as he tried to contain himself. 

“Do what?” 

“Fucking moan, it does shit to me.” 

“Sucks for you, I’m responsive as fuck.” You snipped as his sudden confession made you hot, squishing your thighs together. Jimin took notice and he flashed a look at your core. 

“Responsive, huh?” Jimin let go of your wrist, sliding his hand down your body before pressing his fingers to your heat through your dress. You instantly gasped, arching as you felt your walls clench around absolutely nothing. 

“J-Jimin.” you warned him weakly. 

“Mm?” Jimin paid no attention as he lowered himself to your neck and began kissing, tonguing, sucking at a spot that had you cowering and squirming underneath him. 

You groaned as your free hand tangled into his hair, hugging him to your neck as you basked in the glory of his plush lips devouring you. He was laving and nibbling at your skin, continuously kissing the area of your carotid all while rubbing his hand against your clothed cunt. Jimin began rutting his body against yours, the tip of his cock prodding you the more he moved.

“Fuck you, Jimin. This isn’t fair.” You moaned breathlessly

“As fair as it gets, princess. You wanted to see my try, yeah?” Jimin suddenly stopped his movements on your core and slid his hand up your bare thigh, only to shift your stained panties to the side and glide his fingers all over your bare pussy. You gasped Jimin’s name and tugged at his hair harshly, the alcohol hazing everything over with sensitivity and trying to sustain the sheer amount of pleasure he was rewarding you.

“N-nothing’s fair about this.”

Jimin smoothed the pads of his fingers over your slick core, eliciting your incessant gasps, “Fuck with my ego and I fuck with you, baby.” 

He was leaving purple marks all along your neck and chest, moving down to the valley of your breasts and you whined headily, hating that he had such an advantage in this position. 

You immediately grew bold enough to push him off by his chest, detaching him as Jimin looked at you confused. “Y/N, what the fu-” was all Jimin could get out before you stood up and gripped his cock through his pants, his breath immediately hitching. He looked at you with surprised eyes, growing weaker in your hold as you walked him back against a vanity in the room.

You had no clue who this room belonged to, but you could care less when you were minutes away from getting fucked by Park Jimin.

He let out breathy little moans as you palmed him, shutting his eyes in bliss as he turned harder by the second, leaning back against the counter. You planted your lips to his neck and mouthed fervently, making sure you embellished his skin with your desire for him. “F-fuck. Y/N, this isn’t fair.”

“Fuck with my ego and I fuck with you, baby.” You mocked him and began rubbing at his shaft, sucking hickies onto his pretty neck and licking over the areas your teeth grazed. Jimin continued groaning, hugging you close to him as he fisted his hands against your body, trying everything to cherish the pleasure he felt. 

The person he’s been desiring ever since he heard about you, his every nerve thrilled by your ability to counter him, match his energy of constant flirting and testing the waters, venturing further than him sometimes.

You were just so tempting and Jimin wanted every last bit of you. 

That sentiment increased when he felt your hands snake towards the belt of his jeans, unbuckling harshly with need so apparent he wanted nothing but to stuff your walls, now. 

“No, fuck off, getting inside you first.” Jimin denied your hands, capturing them in his hold.

You instantly whined, “But Jimin, want you to fuck my face.” You pouted into his neck, kissing along his collar bones as you rutted against him. 

“Fucking God, I’m destroying you for that.” Jimin wrapped you up in his arms and switched the positions, shoving you against the vanity, your ass on the edge of the counter as Jimin stood in between your spread out legs, lips meeting yours again. 

Jimin lifted the skirt of your dress up and over your backside, pooling around your waist as his hands slid over your fleshy thighs to the band of your panties. He pulled only to snap them back against your skin, the contact making you gasp.

“Why the fuck are you still wearing these?”

“And why the fuck are you still wearing clothes?” You chastised, hands greedily shoving his jacket off him even with your mouth attached to his.

Jimin didn’t allow the action to compromise your kiss either, practically ripping his jacket off and breathing hard against you as he threw it away. He then pulled his t-shirt over himself, revealing his toned, lean body underneath and only leaving his Chanel necklace hanging over his bare chest. You licked your lips at the sight of his smooth and pretty body, the outline of his abs like a work of art.

You reached out to touch him, his face and skin flushed with lust as he watched you. “You’re so hot, Jimin, so pretty.” You praised, eyes ogling him.

Jimin smirked proudly before speaking, “Your turn.”

He searched for the zipper of your dress and unzipped hastily, peeling away the top to reveal your naked breasts and now it was his turn to ogle at you.

“Fuck me, you’re prettier.” He huffed out, eyes blown out entirely.

“Probably not as pretty as your cock, let me suck.” You pouted playfully and pulled him closer to you with the back of your shins, hands greedily feeling up his bare chest.

“Only good girls get to suck my dick.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me, you’re a fucking brat and a half.” Jimin started kneading your breasts, licking his lips as he watched you spread your legs wider for him and lean your head back out of pure bliss.

“I am not a brat, you just fucking take 10 years to get it on.” You snapped back, moaning in between at the way he groped your breasts, rolling the buds of your nipples with his fingertips.

“Sorry I was a fucking gentleman, didn’t know you were such a cock-hungry slut.” Jimin bit as he planted his thick lips to your perched nipple, eliciting curses from you as his tongue began swirling around, sucking teasingly.

“You just can’t fuck, isn’t it? All bark and no bite?”

Jimin scoffed darkly at that, sucking harder on your sensitive nipples before letting go with a pop. “I’ll fucking break you is why I kept holding off, you’ll regret this, princess.”

“Break me then, Jimin, please. Fuck me like you say you will, I need you.” Your arousal became unbearable as you grew hornier, rocking your hips against him for friction while he laved at either of your nipples.

“I will, baby. Get these off and I’ll fuck you so good.” Jimin tugged at your panties and you lifted your ass for him to discard them.

You unhooked Jimin’s belt and shoved into his pants, pulling his boxers and jeans down until you finally freed his leaking length, thick and throbbing to be treated.

What you always thought was right, his cock was pretty just like him. You graciously pumped him, spreading his pre-cum over the head as you watched him lean his head back, kissing under his jaw.

“So pretty, Jimin, just like you.”

Jimin stopped caring about any and everything and instantly grabbed one of your legs, spreading you wide open for him and situated himself before your entrance.

He brought a hand over yours pumping his member and moved you quicker against his hot flesh, looking down at the lewd scene and your pretty pussy aching for him.

“Look at you soaking, baby, so much prettier.” 

You moaned needily, the back of your shins urging Jimin closer to you again as you whined. “Jimin..”

“Raw?” he breathed impatiently. 

“Fuck yes, birth control.”

Jimin didn’t even take a millisecond before he was pushing against your hole, placing the hand that was pumping his member now against your pelvic bone, pressing down to feel himself sink inside of you.

You instantly careened, moaning out so loud that if there wasn’t music blaring in the house, everyone would know how stuffed Jimin made you feel.

“Fuck-Jimin! Stop doing that, it feels too fucking good..!” You nearly cried, the pressure of Jimin’s hand making you feel any and every ridge, vein and hardness of his thick cock, your walls drinking him in.

“Fuck you, this is what you get.” Jimin blurted as he buried himself to the hilt, groaning satisfyingly at your warm walls hugging him before plunging to make out with you.

Jimin began fucking you with conviction, determination to drive you insane for him as he spread you open. He thrusted fast and hard from the get-go, neglecting to set a pace knowing how much of a cock-loving brat you were. His thumb resting just above your clit dipped down to lightly play with your bud, tease it, all the while licking into your mouth and thrusting into you.

You gasped hard, so much that Jimin’s name was the only thing coherent within them and he swallowed all your sounds with his lips. Your body was on fire at the drag of his cock, shocked at how wet you were when he hadn’t even fingered or eaten you out, his cock doing all the work, leaving you only thinking of Park Jimin’s sheer power.

You wanted all of him so badly, wanted him to ruin you, destroy you like he said he would, fuck you open like he always insinuated he would.

“Jimin, please, harder! Fuck me like the brat I am, teach me a fucking lesson.”

“Princess likes it hard, huh? Want me to fuck this pussy up? Make it all mine?” Jimin’s words were so filthy they had you clutching onto him tightly, arousal gushing from you as Jimin impaled you harder, snapping into you.

His thumb continued its onslaught, your walls convulsing to his every stroke as you gripped his shoulders and kissed him, biting his plushy bottom lip as he fucked you harder.

“Mm, Jimin, fuck!” Your tits bounced as he pounded into you, taking his every thrust like a champ and he damn well shook the entire vanity, continuously drilling your hole as he gave no room for mercy. Your hands snaked into his hair and tugged, making him groan in approval and he only pushed you open wider in response.

“You pretty brat, look at you getting what you want. Fucked like the cock-loving princess you are.” Jimin breathed against your mouth, his skin slicking with sweat as he worked tirelessly against your opening, battering your pussy with an unforgiving speed.

“You would’ve gotten your dick sucked, but apparently-” you shuddered breathily, “I w-wasn’t a good girl.” You felt weak from his repeated onslaught, the bubbling pleasure in your gut keeping you going. 

“Yeah, so fucking behave and maybe I’ll let you choke on my dick.”

“Y-you stop playing games and maybe I’ll let you eat my pussy.”

Jimin only ticked his head to the side as he chuckled darkly, starting to propel his thick cock into your gut and raging at your clit so roughly, you gasped as you carved your pleasure into his skin. Jimin did the same as he bore his fingers into you, a hand squeezing your thigh harshly as he held your leg and your walls fluttered around him, moans growing higher in pitch.

“Jimin! I’m gonna-“ you didn’t even complete your sentence as your walls clamped around him, orgasm washing over you so quickly you barely realized it came. You clenched him like a vice and panted hard against his mouth, Jimin finally coming undone as well, spurts of cum painting your insides and filling you to the brim, certain he’d leak out of you for hours.

You felt stuffed, so full of him you were hazed over with post-orgasm bliss, mind unwinding from any trifling matter on Earth. Your forehead slacked against his shoulder as you both panted for air, sweating as Jimin held your weak body in his arms.

His cock remained shoved inside you, the throbbing letting up on both of you as your highs settled down.

“You..” Jimin swallowed dryly, breathing. “took me like a good girl. Maybe you can suck me off next time.”

“Next time?” You breathed labourly, turning your face towards his.

Jimin peered down at you resting against him, biting back a grin. “Of course, there’s always a next time with flirts like us.”

[starglow-xx]

(About the brother!atsushi) aRE YOU READING MY MIND MISS?! Because that has been on my mind for MONTHS. TYSM For writing it was amazing!! If you don't mind, may I request (if requests are open) atsushi, still an older brother, but with a sister that's 10-13 yrs old? It's totally fine if you don't wanna do it. Keep up the good stories, ily mwuah!

*sobs* you’re so kind thank youu 🤧🤧

i wrote this a bit differently i hope that’s okay anon! at first i planned for this to be mainly abt atsushi and the reader, but i decided to add in relationship hcs with the agency bc i ran out of ideas

if you guys liked this don’t worry! im planning a special part two for this one so be the look out for it hehe

atsushi with a tween! sister

ft. the armed detective agency

like in my baby sister hcs, you’re still the most important thing to him period

the two of you got picked up by dazai and kunikida when he was 18 (obviously) and when you were 12

for a 12 year old, you were a bit small bc of malnourishment (which makes atsushi feel so bad) so both dazai and kunikida thought you were a bit younger than you actually were

they assumed you were about 9-10ish

you and atsushi both share a favorite food !! chazuke :)

so when kunikida treated the two of you, he made sure you got more bowls bc like i mentioned above, he feels really bad that you were malnourished and under weight

(don’t bring this up but kunikida felt bad too hehe)

when dazai went with your brother to the warehouse, you were with kunikida

imagine the surprise of the other ada members when kunikida came in with a little girl dressed in rags that popped out from behind him

kenji was the one who vocalized his thoughts 

“kunikida-san you have a daughter?! wow! i didn’t know that! :D”

when you found out your brother was a tiger, you were a bit concerned but you were actually kind of excited

you were even more excited when you found out the two of you were going to be taken in by the agency

anything was better than the stupid orphanage

and besides!

you got a tiger for an older brother and a bunch of other super powered agents to take care of you! who could want anything else?

at your age, you’re very impressionable and can be influenced easily so atsushi makes sure to teach you more in depth of good morals and the importance of kindness

his heart swells with pride and relief when he catches you being kind to others

pride bc he’s proud that even after all the two of you have gone through, you still ended up being a good kid and having a bright view of the world

and relief bc he hasn’t failed as a big brother

pfftt like he could ever fail

but please, from time to time reassure him that he’s perfect and the only big brother that you’d ever want bc he rlly needs that kind of validation

with his salary and savings, he tries to buy nice things for you

what a sweetheart 🥺

he saw you eyeing that one dress at a store window? fast forward abt a week and half and it’s inside a pretty gift bag for you

you wanted to try that dessert from the nice bakery? that’s dessert after dinner at one point

but other than buying you things, he sets money aside for you

like all the time

(y/n), here have this, you might need it”

“but nii-san you just gave me—”

“take it”

#1 spoiler

also your #1 confidant and source of physical affection

you tell him anything and everything (except crushies and those kinds of things)

atsushi loves it when you talk abt your day and he can see the big smile on your face and the sparkle in your eyes

it gives him the strength to keep going 😖😖

the two of you aren’t as touch starved as you’d probably think, but that’s only bc the two of you had each other

in your opinion, no one can match the hugs of your big brother

and it got even better bc YAYY he has tiger arms now ٩(◕‿◕)۶

if you ask, he’d carry you around too hehe

you also get nightmares quite often so he’ll always be there ready to calm you down, talk if you need to, and rock you back to sleep

god i love him 🤧🤧

atsushi will do everything in his power to protect you and make sure you get to grow up happy, supported, and loved

port mafia attack? oop he’s already taking you to the nearest escape route

someone is starting to harass you? they just got suckered punched into the next week

you want to go out to have some fun? he’ll go ask the president for a day off

you’re not feeling well? he’ll take another day off and take care of you

whatever you want to do, he’ll do it with you! (as long as it’s within reason)

will always be your #1 supporter! and he’s the president of your fan club hehe

he loves you so so much and will do anything for you; your life and happiness will always be more important to him

you are his reason to keep going

agency head canons !!

atsushi is your big brother, but kunikida is most definitely some sort of father figure

everyone can see it

except kunikida of course

kunikida scolds you lightly if he thinks your manners need work or if you make a mess in the agency

you listen to him of course and in turn as some sort of a reward, he’ll give you pieces of stationary

he always gives you the nice, good quality kind and you’re over the moon

atsushi adores it when you come running to him showing your new notebook or fountain pen and blabbering what you’re going to do with it

sometimes it isn’t even as a reward for being a good child; he’ll just give it to you and he’ll say smth like “i noticed you’ve used up your last notebook quite quickly, so here’s another one” or “did you run out of ink? here have this then”

he usually has a soft spot for children in general, but he most definitely has a soft spot (or a thousand) for you

yosano is kind of like a motherly figure to you

she gives you the guidance a mother should and goes on shopping trips with you!

atsushi always gets dragged along by you, but he thinks it’s worth it seeing you look so happy

yosano being a doctor also tries to teach the things you should know, or things that would be helpful to you

she’ll teach you the basics of cooking, sewing, how to treat a cold/fever, etc

also gives you excellent advice 1000% of the time

“remember (y/n)-chan if someone hurts you come tell me and then i’ll chop them into—”

“yOSANO-SENSEI DONT TELL HER THAT—”

fukuzawa is like a father to most in the agency but you see him more as a grandfather figure

bi weekly tea and gossip sessions hehe

along with cat talk!

most of the time though, it’s just you talking and him listening to you, but the two of you enjoy it nonetheless

“and then kunikida-san ended up crashing into a pole and dazai-san started to laugh at him and i did too because it was really funny but we ended up getting scolded—”

“hmm i see...”

he’ll let you stay in his office as he fills out paperwork; you’re usually doodling or drawing in your notebooks

sometimes he’ll meditate and you’ll join him, but 4/7 times you’d fall asleep

you always wake up with a blanket over you

dazai is like a cool but a highly concerning and kind of high maintenance uncle

frequently takes you out with him when he ditches work

walks in the park, eating at uzumaki so he has the excuse of treating you so he doesn’t have to pay his tab avoiding kunikida and sometimes chuuya and akutagawa, all that fun stuff

also tries to not talk abt suicide in front of you especially if it’s just the two of you alone

he knows that you mean the world to his pupil and that said pupil would probably hate him for putting suicide inside your brain

he teaches you random but useful things like how to pick a lock, how to steal kunikida’s notebook if you’re looking for some information, how to sweet talk your way out of things, etc.

is also the one to tell you that if you ever get a significant other to introduce them to the agency first

he always wants all of your gossip; some of them work pretty well for blackmail

“dazai-san! dazai-san! did you know that kunikida-san lost his glasses and he was looking for them for nearly an hour when he was just holding them the entire time??”

“woah really (y/n)-chan?! hey hey can you say it again into this recording device so kunikida-kun would believe me when i tell him—”

always ends up giving kunikida a heart attack when he says that you’ve been with him all day

ranpo is also like a cool but a highly concerning and kind of high maintenance uncle

will share some of his snacks, but don’t push it or you might not get anything at all

loves it when you compliment him

if you tagged along with him and your brother on a case, he will show off to impress you

“...and that’s how the crime happened”

“UWAHH RANPO-SAN YOU’RE SO COOL”

atsushi is lowkey and kunikida is highkey stressed that ranpo’s eating habits will rub off on you

“ne (y/n)-chan do you wanna try this highly caffeinated drink and this concerning amount of sugar filled snack?”

“can i really?!”

“rANPO-SAN NO—”

ranpo definitely does stuff like that on purpose 

the tanizakis are like siblings to you!

a weird set of siblings but siblings nonetheless

the two of them adore you and think you’re precious

atsushi definitely knows how to do your hair whether it’s long or short but he got even better at it when he asked the two

hehe braid trains are definitely a thing + kyouka and kenji (and maybe even dazai)

sometimes you have sibling swap days

you’re with junichiro for most of the day and atsushi is with naomi

strange i know

each of the tanizaki siblings try to make it fun bc they know that the two of you did not at all have a happy upbringing

junichiro likes spending time with you by taking you out to different places that naomi likes to frequent

like the mall, different stores and restaurants, the park, places like those

naomi does the same thing with atsushi so if you ever bump into them, you go out and eat together :)

besides atsushi, the next one in line who spoils you the most would be junichiro (and yosano & kunikida both coming in at a close third)

he honestly can’t help it; you remind him of how naomi was when she was younger

and besides

he’s always been a sucker when it came to the happiness of a little sister

“would you really buy this for me junichiro-san?!”

“of course! don’t worry about it” :)

wanna talk abt boys/girls/celebrity crushes things like that? naomi is your girl

you feel a bit embarrassed to go talking to yosano or your brother abt that and kyouka does not know a thing abt them either

“uwahh naomi-san look at all these people in this magazine! they look so good!”

“right?! but of course onii-sama is still the best—”

you get along with kenji and kyouka quite nicely being roughly the same age as them; they’re also like siblings!

just pure, wholesome vibes from the three of you

you’re over the moon when she finds out that kyouka is staying with you and your brother

atsushi is twice as happy seeing you talk your mouth off and finally having a girl around your age to talk to

“do you think demon snow can change how she looks?”

“hmm... im not sure...”

you and kenji talk abt anything and everything

he even teaches you how to take care of plants!

sometimes the two of you are kind of in the same boat bc you don’t know much abt yokohoma being stuck in the orphanage and kenji doesn’t know much abt cities in general

“wait where are we again kenji-san?”

“ah we’re close to the ports! but im not really sure how close because i don’t know what the symbols on this sign mean”

“don’t worry! neither do i!”

bonus things!

yosano was kind of too late teaching you abt you know what

“NII-SAN IM BLEEDING IN BETWEEN MY LEGS”

you’re sobbing in the agency’s bathroom and atsushi is panicking trying to get you to open the door

“Y/N?! H-HOLD ON LET ME GET YOSANO SENSEI”

ranpo overhears and cackles making everyone around him confused

suddenly atsushi bursts in the agency basically on the verge of tears rambling incoherent sentences abt the bathroom, you, and blood

it just clicked for everybody in the room

(im going to pretend that kenji has sisters back home so that atsushi is the only one who remain oblivious here hehe)

atsushi is genuinely confused and sort of concerned that no one is freaking out with him

yosano waves her hand saying smth like that she’d take care of it and junichiro pulls atsushi to the side to talk to him

fast forward like half and hour and dazai and ranpo are cackling on the looks of both of your faces

honestly not sure who’s more traumatized, you or your brother

“why does this have to happen” :(

“ne ne (y/n)-chan!~ you’re too young but at some point you’re not going to have it!”

“uwahh really dazai-san?” :D

“yeah! but first you have to have ANFK—”

next thing you know your ears are being covered by your brother and dazai is thrown across the room by kunikida

you know

the normal

you’re twelve and have never gone to school, but the agency takes care of that

it’s too dangerous to go to school so they teach you what’s necessary and whatever else they can

kunikida takes care of math (obviously)

yosano takes care of science/biology/anatomy/health (whatever you wanna call it)

ranpo even dragged poe to help you with english

atsushi even got lucy to help you out with english too!

as tanizaki and naomi used to be students, they give you their old work books and they try to teach you all the other subjects

sometimes kyouka and kenji are there learing with you too!

sorry if there’s some errors! i’ll read through it again later :)

and as always, reblogs and shares are appreciated! i hope you all stay safe! and just in case nobody told you they loved you today, i love you! you are enough! <3

writing belongs to me! please do not plagiarize! the reblog button is there for a reason

[slashbitch2]

The Very Nosy Neighbour

this fic was 100% inspired by this one here , but I mean it practically wrote itself I couldn't resist

NSFW

You can't remember much past waking up in an unfamiliar room- though 'room' is really a sugarcoated description, as in reality it qualifies more as some kind of cavern. You're sitting in a chair, ankles and wrists bound by an indistinguishable material. Whatever the binds are made of feels strong, so any attempts to struggle against it are futile. Yet, in spite of what really should be an extremely stressful situation, you find yourself completely relaxed. You briefly wonder whether you've been drugged, but with every sense feeling fully operational, that theory is soon dismissed.

Instead of choosing a more logical response to the circumstances you've found yourself in, you decided to focus more on your surroundings: not to form any resemblance of an escape plan, but simply out of curiosity. Although, the investigation is equally as ineffective. You're unable to name anything around you except for stone walls, strange (glowing?) vines and weird symbols carved above a few archways. Everything beyond that is either entirely lost to you, or shrouded in darkness.

With little else to do, you start to think back on the events that led you there, trying to glean any useful information from the blurry memories. The clearest image, therefore the most recent, is the smirking face of a woman, Agnes you realise. Though the malicious glint in her eyes doesn't quite match your perception of the nosy neighbour. But where is she now? Is she also in danger? You may not have known Agnes for very long, but are reluctant to let any harm come to her regardless.

With a clearer head, you consider calling for help, but a small voice at the back of your subconscious warns you against this. And the voice sounds smart, so you elect to listen to it. But what should you do instead? Where did this voice come from? And most importantly, should you trust it? Luckily, you aren't given much time to overthink the decision.

While trying to tune into this voice, footsteps echo in the distance, gradually drawing nearer. You hold your breath as the sound suddenly stops, leaving your eyes scanning the vicinity for any movement. The unpleasant reality dawns on you all too quickly: the footsteps were approaching from behind you.

“Well, well, well.” Someone says playfully, then snorts as they start walking closer. "Sorry to be a total cliché. I couldn't resist." It's Agnes. She narrows her eyes and smirks, folding her arms as she examines your constrained form. Subjected to her scrutiny, you find yourself swallowing, but your throat is too dry. Other small discomforts also become noticeable; your cramped limbs, aching back and the bruises on your hands. Well at least you put up a fight. The more rational part of you, however, realises that your hands are no longer bound. You stare down at them, flexing each finger as if checking they were all still fully functional.

Something suddenly knocks into your head and you grimace. Left reeling from the impact, you realise that you're slightly nauseated. Though not enough to stop you from reaching out to grasp the floating cup of water. The fact that the glass is suspended in mid-air doesn't go unnoticed, rather ignored, since there's too much happening simultaneously to comprehend any of it in sufficient detail. You swirl the liquid round, hesitant to drink, unwilling to trust your captor's apparent mercy.

"Drink up, dear." Agnes drags a chair forward, which seems to have just appeared out of thin air. She sits backwards on it, legs spread and arms resting on the back casually. "That's all you're getting until we're done here." The tone of her voice is both threatening and teasing. You're reluctant to admit it's quite a turn on.

One glance up at her prying expression and you relent, downing the chilled water way too quickly. Though you aren't given a chance to mourn your impatience, as with an effortless wave of her hand, Agnes refills the glass. While you sip at the water, she refuses to tear her eyes away from you for even a second. It's slightly disconcerting.

“Now," She claps her hands, startling you. "I assume you know why you’re here?”

“Not really.” You confess, unable to pinpoint why anyone would go to so much effort to kidnap you, especially Agnes, who up to this point had been an eccentric yet kind neighbour.

She sighs, more for show than anything else, and rubs at her temple. "Come on Y/N, let's not play dumb now."

Embarrassingly, a heat begins to pool deep in your gut, but you quickly dismiss the unwarranted lust. "I don't know what you mean."

"Oh really?" She quirks an eyebrow, sitting upright. "You really have no idea?" The inquiry is ridiculing, and you can see that your naivety is starting to annoy her.

All you can do is shake your head and pray the sincerity is reflected in your eyes.

"Okay." She slams her hands down on her thighs. "I guess we'll have to go about this the hard way then, toots." A sharp gesture and your hands are bound before you once again.

By the time you're looking up, she's striding toward you with purpose, which does nothing to ease the building heat between your legs. Her hands clasp on the armrests either side, essentially trapping you, not like escape would've been possible without the extra precaution. Up close you finally recognize this isn't Agnes- in fact it never has been. There's a feral yet wise appearance to her, the facade of nosy neighbour dissolved in an instance to be replaced by a deranged, frighteningly powerful woman (or witch, you're undecided).

Despite your better judgement, you're unable to stop yourself from asking. "Who are you?" Your voice barely breaches a whisper, but she's standing close enough that nothing less intimate is required.

She looks mildly impressed, the corner of her mouth twitching almost indiscernibly. "Agatha Harkness." She extends a hand, smirking upon realisation that you're a little too tied up at the minute to reciprocate. "Lovely to meet you."

You swallow again, finding your throat to be a little less dry. "Likewise." Then decide to take another risk. "So what do you want from me?"

“Wanda's true identity.” She replies so quickly that you almost miss it, looking at you with an eagerly expectant expression.

Agatha's question confuses you further. “I don’t know what you mean.” Although your answer is honest, something at the back of your mind hisses lies.

"There's no need to lie here." Her patient humour had disappeared. "Trust me, no one will hear you, so drop the act."

For some unbeknown reason, her accusation angers you. "I'm not putting on an act, I don't know why I'm here or what you want from me." The bravery dissipates all of a sudden as you remember that you're not exactly in the position to command such authority. "Please, stop this."

Agatha purses her lips, stands up and turns away from you. She calmly moves forwards a few paces, and in the short amount of time you manage to convince yourself that she's given up. Until in a completely unprovoked move, she swings her hands to the left, sending her chair crashing into the wall in frustration. Whether this is part of her interrogation performance or not, it works. Your heart starts racing, and confusingly, the awkward heat between your legs pulses.

She runs a hand through her hair, still facing away from you. "Don't make this any harder harder than it needs to be." You can practically hear her grinding her teeth, but don't doubt that she was getting some enjoyment out of the situation.

"I can tell you that Wanda is my sister and only real family, that I moved to Westview with her and that I couldn't live without her." You start listing off some basic facts, desperate to prove to Agatha that nothing is hidden. That you're normal.

"What about your brother?" She swivels round, clicking her fingers as she tries to recall something. "Pietro!" She exclaims.

"Pietro..." You falter. Why does the name sound so familiar? The nausea worsens. You shake off the feeling. "Never heard of him."

“Liar.” In one swift movement, Agatha is right by your ear. The feeling of her lips brushing against your skin causes you to close your eyes. The close proximity was becoming overwhelming, and your body had chosen to react in a rather unfortunate way. Admittedly, you'd always had a thing for Agnes, but Agatha was on a whole other level. You dreaded to open your eyes, worried that she'd noticed your current state. Instead, you internally begged for mercy.

“Don't go all shy on me now.” She pushes your shoulder into the chair, compelling you to open your eyes. "If you don't want to talk, I have other methods." Her hand raises, a purple flow emanating from the tips of her fingers. It crackles and sparks, as if the power was barely contained, yet as she shifts closer to brush the hair out of your face, you don't flinch. One finger remained touching your forehead, then traced down to your jaw, and finally along to grasp your chin.

While the vaguely sinister movement terrified you, it also forced you hold your breath and grip onto the armrests for dear life. Why you'd decided this was hot was beyond you considering the many connotations of her words, yet your thighs pressed tighter together as she drew closer. You attempted to turn your head to the side, longing for distraction, but her hold on you kept your head still.

"This won't be much fun for you, dear." She sighed in mock pity, her breath hot against your skin... Which just tipped you over the edge. As hard as you tried to stifle the noise, a broken moan escaped your lips. You'd definitely hit a low point here. Too ashamed to face your apparent arousal, you screwed your eyes shut. Although, at Agatha's silence, you relented and opened them barely a minute later.

To your relief, or perhaps dismay, the woman was grinning like a maniac. Her eyes flickered down to your parted lips as she chewed on her own. Then carefully, as if she were testing the waters, her fingers began to rub against your jaw, and upwards to your mouth. Your breath deceives you by hitching as her thumb slips between your lips, stroking your tongue. At the contact, you can't help but arch into the touch. Agatha chuckles.

"I take it back." She murmurs, removing her hand. "This will be fun." Although the intimidation factor prevails, there's a certain desire mirrored in Agatha's expression which cancels out any remaining common sense. Your entire body felt like it was on fire, and even if you wanted to, there was little you could do to stop her. So, you give into your yearning, sighing as she climbs to sit on your lap. Immediately, her hand switches to gripping the back of your neck as she slams her mouth onto yours. You willingly indulge by opening further, allowing her tongue to slide between your lips. Her other hand lowers to grab at your chest, like she were trying to tug herself impossibly closer.

Without removing her lips, the hand massaging your chest shifts to your thigh. She still keeps her lips firmly pressed to yours, and with the lack of oxygen, you can feel yourself growing lightheaded. It almost feels like a challenge, one which you're determined to succeed at. Though when she eventually does break away, her hand suddenly slips between your thighs, and your breath is stolen from you once more. Wasting no time, she massages you through your clothes, dragging out an inevitable whine. The touch is both too much, and not enough. But judging by her malevolent smirk, that was exactly her intention.

Even though you were currently incapable of producing any reasonable thought, you still noticed that Agatha wasn't entirely unaffected. Her breathing was laboured, hips occasionally jerking against your thigh and eyes struggling to stay open. The influence you were having on her only encouraged you to moan louder, craving to see her equally dishevelled. Your plan seemed to momentarily fail as her hand retreated. But you'd certainly earned her attention.

She licks her lips, then abruptly changes her expression to look disturbingly like that of Agnes. "You wouldn't leave me out of the fun now, would you dear?" Her voice is high pitched as she basically sings her words. Although the question must've been rhetorical as doesn't await a response, instead you find your hands unbound, flung behind your back and bound together all in a matter of seconds. Then, she shifted her position, yanking your bodies closer so that your crotches were pressed together. She grunts, heaving forward to rest against you for a moment and regain her composure. And finally, without warning, starts to grind your hips together.

It doesn't take long for her movement to become more frantic, accompanied by her hair spilling onto her face. She remains impressively quiet, however, or perhaps you were just comparably loud. With the little pride you have left, you decide to take matters into your own hands, and start meeting each thrust with equal vigour. Miraculously, it works. She throws her head back with a remarkably loud moan, proceeded by change in strategy as she starts almost bouncing on top of you, hips losing their rhythm, pleasure overwhelming her. Startled by her lack of self-control, the heat in your stomach begins building exponentially fast. Your eyes slam shut.

A hand grasps onto your face. “Look at me!” She growls, then emphasises her demand by rolling her hips torturously slowly. The movement ceases. She leans her forehead against yours, staring directly into your eyes. “Come with me.” To your surprise, there's an audible plea in her voice.

At a loss for words, you nod. The pleasure had been building for so long that you knew it'd only take a few more grinds to push you over the edge. With your confirmation, Agatha resumes her thrusting, though soon succumbs, throwing her head back and uttering an exceptionally loud, high-pitched moan. She arches her back, pressing herself so far into you that the pleasure peaks. You groan, lurching backwards in a moment of pure bliss. All you can feel is Agatha, all you can think about is Agatha. Coming down from the high, you sigh and collapse forward to bury your face in the crook of her neck.

She tenses slightly at the contact, but soon relaxes into the strange embrace. You gently press your lips against her skin and feel her shiver, confirming your suspicion that it'd been a while since Agatha had received such affection. Motivated by a new, more innocent desire, you continue to pepper light kisses across her throat and behind her ear, simply enjoying the unexpectedly intimate moment.

Agatha finally breaks the silence, leaning away from your touch to look down at you curiously. "Wanda really has you under her mind control too, huh?"

Although still stuck in a post-coital haze, you muster enough brainpower to consider her words. "Mind control?"

"Oh, right." She smirks, a slight sadness perceptible in her eyes. "Forgot to mention." Before you can say anything, she swings one leg to the side, stiffly sliding off your lap and clasping her hands together. "You might want to reconsider where your loyalties lie, dear." She glances at you, then ambles to the opposite side of the room. "That's one fucked up family situation right there." Her voice teasingly calls out.

You feel yourself flush, strangely offended by her comment, and annoyed by her vagueness. "Like you can talk." Your response is a total shot in the dark, but must've hit a nerve since she slowly turns back to you, a suspicious expression upon her face. "Just a guess." You add, unwilling to know the details of whatever sensitive topic you'd just touched upon. Agatha easily shrugs it off, leaving behind a stifling silence. Eventually, it's a mixture of your own boredom and concern that prompts you to end the lull in conversation. "Are you still planning on interrogating me about something I know nothing about?"

"Oh, no I read your mind." She waves a dismissive hand over her shoulder. "Got all I needed."

Again, you're left suffocating in the confusion her ambiguity provokes, with nothing else to ask except. "How...?"

The inquiry must've been exactly what Agatha wanted to hear as she immediately dropped what she was doing to turn around and lean on the wall, arms folded in a casually smug pose. "Sex leaves you vulnerable." She smirked. "All I did was take advantage of the opportunity- but I'll spare you the boring details." With a flourish of her hand and a flash of purple, the binds holding your ankles and wrists disappeared. "You can go now. First door on the left."

Without sparing you another glance, she busied herself with some witchy task, allowing you to see yourself out. Massaging your wrists, you stood slowly, watching her expectantly. Surely she wouldn't just let you leave? Yet as you sauntered over to the door she'd directed you to, she made no move to stop you. "Bye then?"

Agatha looked up at you and winked. "See you around, neighbour."

[depressing-debbie]

Are you still doing the fluff alphabet? If so, could you do Levi?? Thank you 😘

Absolutely! Fluff alphabet masterlist is here

School may be crashing and burning but at least I’ve got time to write :) lmao

I wrote this at 3 AM and I refuse to edit, so enjoy <3

Fluff Alphabet: Levi

A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

I honestly don’t think the activity matters to him. He likes to stay home a lot because it’s easier, and because he feels more comfortable somewhere private. Big fancy dates aren’t super common because he views expensive romantic dinners and such as a cliche that he’s too old and mature for, but if it’s something his s/o would be excited about, he’d be secretly excited to indulge sometimes. He’d also probably enjoy museums and art galleries. But again, for the most part, he just wants to spend time with them, it doesn’t matter where.

B eauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

Levi’s definitely not an appearance-oriented person. Don’t get me wrong, he thinks his s/o is stunning, and he makes sure they know it. But that’s not what he admires about them, their connection is so much deeper than that. He genuinely sees them for who they are and not what they look like, which is why they’re just so beautiful to him, if that makes sense. 

C omfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

He probably panicked the first time he saw his s/o struggling. He’s not the most in tune with his emotions, so he especially doesn’t know how to help others with this kind of thing. But I feel like his protective instincts would kick in and he would actually be really comforting. Most likely, he’d just sit by his s/o’s side silently and make his presence known until they were feeling well enough to talk. At which point he hears them out and offers some advice, of course with the perfect amount of sarcasm and shit jokes to cheer them up a bit. And he’d probably ask them later what they would prefer he do in that situation if it happens again, which of course he would remember in the future.

D reams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

This is a point of internal conflict for Levi, for sure. After everything he’s been through, again, he’s become pretty emotionally closed off. He can’t really depend on anything or anyone staying in his life for too long because they never have. So it would really take a while before Levi can really start to picture his future with his s/o. Even then, he would feel a bit guilty for allowing himself to indulge in those dreams. But at the end of the day, he just dreams about some sort of stability with his s/o some day. He doesn’t really care about the details, he just wants to know that they’re going to be together, and that they can develop some kind of routine and stability that he never really had in the past.

E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

It’s definitely equal. Levi shares any decision-making with his s/o, and he’d definitely prefer that they do the same, just because that makes their partnership stronger. Because they are very much a team.

F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

Levi does tend to have a bit of a temper, but it’s not something that he would ever want to bring into his relationship. He doesn’t let either of them fight over something petty just because it’s not worth it. And with a more serious disagreement, he’d try hard to start a genuine discussion about it. Things happen, though, so they obviously get in fights sometimes. Levi can be kind of rude when he gets really frustrated, which is why he tries to avoid it. But he’d never actually say something to hurt his s/o, even when they’re both upset. Usually, even the rare argument calms down enough to be settled rationally.

G ratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

He is so incredibly grateful for his s/o; he sees and appreciates everything they do for him, and he makes sure it’s known. Explicitly saying something like that makes him a bit uncomfortable, so he finds other ways to silently show his gratitude. He makes sure his s/o’s favorite mug is always clean, and he makes them his favorite blend of tea whenever he sees that they’re stressed out. Just little things that he does to make sure they know he’s thinking about them.

H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

There are pretty much no secrets in the relationship. The past is a little complicated; there are a few stories that Levi probably will never be able to share (or at least, it will take a very long time), and his s/o is more than entitled to keep secrets about their past that they just cannot share. But other than that, it’s an open book. Levi wouldn’t see any reason to lie about most things, unless it’s about keeping his s/o safe, and it would make him really uncomfortable to know that his s/o keeps secrets. Not that there are no boundaries, it’s just that he wouldn’t want to pour his heart out and be vulnerable just to find out that the other person doesn’t trust him as much.

I nspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

I think Levi’s s/o probably helps him a lot, actually. He’s been emotionally closed off for a long time, and being in a relationship with trust and a deep connection would help him to open up a bit and be more vulnerable. He also just lets himself be a bit happier and more optimistic with his s/o, so his life is just a bit easier in general.

J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

He’d never admit it out loud, but he actually does get pretty jealous. It’s mostly just self esteem issues, not a lack of trust at all. He trusts them more than enough to know that they’re not going to secretly abandon him, so of course he’d never make a big deal out of it (although I think it goes without saying that if someone is hitting on his s/o or something in public and they look remotely uncomfortable, he would go absolutely batshit) But, still, sometimes he can’t help feeling sometimes like he’s not enough for them. He tries to hide it, but it’s pretty obvious that he’s sulking when he’s upset, so his s/o would most likely spot it immediately. And all he would really need is a gentle reminder that he IS enough for them.

K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

Alright I’m conflicted on this one. I’m just gonna say it, his first kiss with his s/o was kind of just not that great. He wouldn’t DARE not ask for proper consent, HOWEVER he ended up asking like three times just to make sure it was alright, which made it a teensy bit awkward. Once he finally gave in, he just gave them the teensiest little kiss and that was it for like two weeks. He’s not really great with physical touch so it takes a while for him to get comfortable. His s/o would probably have to take over from there or else they’d never kiss again, but once he gets comfortable, he does fine.

L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

It’s during something incredibly mundane, probably just a car drive or a regular movie night. He’s going about his day when he realizes he loves them, and he’ll be damned if he’s gonna stew on that knowledge for another two weeks just because he’s too nervous. So in the middle of a movie or just like halfway home from the store, he just blurts out “hey, I love you”. It’s completely by surprise, but it’s not like it’s particularly early or far into the relationship, so it makes sense. From then on, he wouldn’t be the type of person to say it all the time (I mean, come on, his s/o should know by now, it’d just be stupid). But he also wouldn’t hold himself back from saying it when he’s feeling particularly grateful for his s/o one day. And hearing them say it back would definitely make him blush just the slightest bit every time.

M arriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

Levi would be absolutely terrified to get married. BUT that’s not to say that he wouldn’t want to. It would take some considering, sure, but especially if it’s something he knows his s/o wants, he’s all in. He’d probably propose in a similar way to how he first said he loves them, except at least just a bit more planned out. It wouldn’t be a cliche grand proposal with doves and rose petals and champagne, that would drive him crazy. Most likely, he surprises them with a homemade dinner, sets the table with candles, and hands them the ring. He’d put on a confident face, but he’s panicking for sure. He’s not really a marriage-y person, so he’s not going to be buying those matching couple towels that have like “mr ackerman” and his s/o’s name on them, and he’s most definitely not giving in to those cheesy weird nicknames (”hubby” makes him glare so hard). But he would love the perceived sense of stability, commitment, and routine that go along with marriage.

N icknames - What do they call their s/o?

Just their name, for the most part. Maybe “love” or “sweetheart”, but he always says that most nicknames are just too cliche. I mean, only lovestruck 20 year olds call each other “babe”, and that is most certainly not their relationship. But, honestly he wouldn’t mind if his s/o gave him one of those cheesy names... not that he’d ever let on to that, of course, but if they happen to figure it out one day... he wouldn’t be mad. Mostly he just loves to hear his name in their voice, so they call each other by their names. 

O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

The token stoic expression Levi keeps in public isn’t going away just because he’s in love. To an outside eye, absolutely nothing is different. But even in public, his s/o can probably tell. Maybe it’s something about the way his eyes are just slightly warmer, slightly brighter. Maybe it’s because he’s just the slightest bit more willing to talk and hold a conversation when they’re by his side. But when they’re alone, he finally lets down that stone expression, and he’s like a whole different person. It doesn’t happen often, but on days where he’s just absolutely lovestruck, he walks around his house smiling, holding his s/o’s hand, maybe even curling up on the sofa together to nap. On those days, he just kind of lets himself be happy. 

P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

Levi’s definitely not a fan of PDA. The relationship isn’t a secret by any means, but he’s also not broadcasting it for the entire world to see. The people close to him know, and that’s plenty. He doesn’t like PDA partly because it’s too vulnerable, but also just because it’s kind of gross and unnecessary to him.

Q uirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

This man has the best memory of anyone you’ll ever meet. It’s honestly a bit unsettling, but he remembers everything his s/o says, and he’ll find a way to bring it up like months later. Sometimes it’s as simple as remembering their favorite food and bringing it to them when they’re stressed out. But it could even be so crazy as them saying in a random conversation in July that they hate when mashed potatoes aren’t totally mashed, and boom, at Thanksgiving that year, they find him mashing the potatoes a little extra just to make sure. (Don’t ask how I came up with that example, my brain is weird.) His mind is a steel trap, and he uses it to his advantage.

R omance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

Cliche romance irritates him so much, he avoids it at all costs, so he’s mostly creative in that sense. He has an eye for picking out ways to make his s/o happy, and even though he doesn’t consider himself particularly romantic, he actually really is.

S upport - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

Absolutely! Levi wants nothing more than to help his s/o achieve whatever they’re working towards, and he’s completely supportive. Anything he can do, any help or emotional support he can offer them, he’s more than willing. 

T hrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

I don’t think he’s AGAINST trying new things, but he really just prefers a routine. Again, it makes him happy to have that connection of stability with his s/o, and he feels so much more comfortable knowing he can depend on that.

U nderstanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

He’s very empathetic. He might struggle sometimes with understanding, just because it’s not very likely that he and his s/o have had similar experiences in life, but he knows them like the back of his hand. What he lacks in immediate understanding, he makes up for in conversations about any issues and an ability to read their expressions really really well.

V alue - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

Honestly, if Levi is in a long term relationship with someone, they’re one of the most important parts of his life. He doesn’t make superficial connections, and he especially doesn’t open up to people he doesn’t care deeply about, so it’s safe to say that he values his s/o greatly. 

W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

He buys his s/o flowers once a week. It’s just a little tradition that makes him happy, and he likes seeing that it makes his s/o happy, so he’s kept it going. If they don’t like flowers, then maybe it’s a little trinket they collect, or a cookie from their favorite bakery. But regardless, he hasn’t missed a week since they’ve been together, it’s really important to him.

X OXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

He’s not necessarily an overly affectionate person. There are occasional days where it really just hits him how lucky he is, and he just wants to hold his s/o for a while and not go do anything that day. But for the most part, he’s not clingy in any means, and his s/o would have to initiate most cuddling. He’ll let them know if he’s really not in the mood, but he usually doesn’t mind (because let’s face it he’s a teensy bit touch starved). But yeah, he shows his affection in different ways for the most part.

Y earning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

It’s not really an issue for him. He’s always been an independent person, so even after he lets himself trust that his s/o isn’t leaving him, he’s not going to be that level of dependent on their presence. He probably would have to fill up his schedule a bit more, though, just so he didn’t have too much down time to get all sad and miss them. He’d also probably clean everything in his sight to calm down until they return.

Z eal - Are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

He’s zealous for sure, he isn’t about to let go of a relationship that means this much to him just because he wasn’t willing to put in the work. He’d do as much as he could to make it work. 

[erdarielthewhumper]

Another OC question, slightly meta this time, if/when ever you feel like it: What were some of the inspirations / influences for creating your OCs? How have their personalities, backstories, and present lives evolved since their original conception?

Oh boy, lemme think... this is gonna get long, so again, everything is under the cut!

Well, Meldie was originally a D&D character, but the campaign kinda fell apart after like 3 sessions bc we couldn't find the time to play. Basics of the character are relatively same; game mechanically the character was a wood elf fighter and kind of aiming for a fairly good balance between dex and strength, but focused on dex a bit more. The basic gear, so sword (game mechanically a rapier, visually a sidesword, but in fic game mechanics doesn't matter), a shield (round metal thing, like a rotella), and a metal breastplate, are all also kind of what i picked as my starter gear in the game. I never really came up with an alignment for her because my group pretty much ignored aligments as a mechanic (the DM didn't like them that much, and tbh I sort of agree, they can be useful but they can also be very awkward to deal with), though I suppose she matches the description of true neutral more closely than anything else. Her backstory is also pretty much the same as what I wrote for the game. The world ofc is different, tho, bc I can't just steal my DM's world for my writing, you know?

As for changes/evolving... well, I think one thing is that Meldie as I write her is somewhat less social and more kind of gruff loner than she was in the game. Which I suppose is fundamentally a practical matter; you can make loners work in D&D, but then you need to go out of your way to figure out a reason for the character to stick with the party, so it's easier to just make the character a bit more social and team player, you know? Whereas in writing, I don't really like juggling big casts of characters, I'm better at writing stuff where the amount of characters that get a lot of focus is pretty small, so it's easier for me if Meldie's a loner because it means I don't have to come up with so many characters, at least not to the same level of detail, as I'd have to if she was a more social person

***

When it comes to Anthony and Elias (and yes, they were always a pair from the moment I made them up; I think I wrote like one fic of Anthony alone before he knew Elias, back in the day, but they were always meant to be together), this is gonna sound strange, but the inspiration behind them was largely space/scifi themed filk music, which I was listening to a lot back in the day. Neither of them are directly based on any specific song (although there are elements I drew from some songs that I still remember, but we'd be here all day if I tried listing all of them), but the characters and the vibe of the world are both something I kind of took inspiration for from filk. It's actually the reason why Elias sings and plays the guitar as a hobby, I threw that in there as a little private nod to what inspired the setting and the characters.

And this is more a setting-thing, but another thing I took inspiration from in the worldbuilding was a couple of tumblr posts I've seen around that make up folklore and stuff for a future scifi universe, like the idea that even in a far-future world where FTL space travel is a thing, there'll still be stories of spirits and gods and ghost ships, there'll still be superstitions and seemingly pointless little rituals people do for luck, things people avoid doing because it's supposedly bad luck. So it doesn't usually come up a lot in the stories, but it's kind of there, this little sprinkle of superstition. I doubt I'll ever actually confirm whether any of those beliefs are true in the setting or not, though, because confirming it would spoil the fun.

Anyway, back to the characters... I don't think Anthony and Elias have ever changed, so much as my idea of who they are has solidified and become more clear over time, espeically once I managed to make up vague outlines for what the places/cultures they came from were like. But I wouldn't really say they've evolved as such, they're still more or less the same as they were then, I just understand what they are better now

[reidecorating]

L'amore Vero È Così (True Love is Like This)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader  

A/N: Woke up with a killer headache after celebrating the end of 2020 and thought writing something loosely based off events that took place on NYE would be a good cure. Hope this year’s been treating you all well!

Word Count: 4.3k

Summary: Summer nights and Spencer Reid make it hard for anyone to keep their hands to themselves. Add David Rossi’s holiday mansion and wine to the mix, and watch a dangerously hot fuse ignite

Warnings: Language (as in cursing AND me just completely butchering Italian), unprotected sex, penetrative sex

Masterlist

Maybe it was the Sauternes. Like a spark igniting along the fuse of dynamite, the sweet sting of white grape travelled down her throat, every sip exploding in kaleidoscopic vision and unfiltered words. Even so, it wasn’t the alcohol she was drunk on. No, not drunk - she wasn’t drunk - she was absolutely intoxicated. Not by anything of substance, but by an overwhelming desire for the man she had arrived with. 

Spencer Reid often felt out of place standing in any absurdly large entranceway, belonging to the old Italian with new money, recurrently settling for shifting from shoe to shoe, before taking a deep breath and pressing the doorbell with the hand unoccupied by a bottle he wouldn’t be drinking from. However, his sobriety was far from the cause of his imposter syndrome. Rather, it was the way he always arrived alone, while, what felt like, the rest of the team trickled in with their spouses or significant others. Whilst pairs would dance to vinyl sounds of Bowie, leaving little room for him and the odd number his presence formed in the abacus of the group, he would loiter in a corner, or, on occasion, entertain his godson with a pack of cards. More frequently, he would rattle off excuses about needing the restroom, only to spend his time exploring the corridors of a rather impressive house. A get together at David Rossi’s holiday home was uncommon, and the last time Spencer had wound up here, he found himself inspecting the tiny forgotten library the man housed, attempting to decipher the various foreign books residing on its mahogany shelves as he heard his friends stumbling their way through the Salsa downstairs. L'isola di Arturo, with sterling lettering on its ageing spine showing a familiar pen name, had quickly become his favourite. When he’d first translated the pages, he had chuckled at the parallels between himself and its disconsolate protagonist. However, after years of his ongoing solitude, and lonely arrivals to a castle full of people, he finally had someone on his arm. 

“Wait, what does this mean? I can make out the ‘amore’ but not much else,” That someone now squinted at the words his index finger underlined as he read her the words of that very book, aloud. “Hm?” He was visibly distracted by the Patchouli blend of orange and jasmine emanating from her skin as she leaned against his shoulder to read the page herself. “L'amore vero è così,” she whispered, unsure of the correct pronunciation but attempting it anyway. “Non ha nessuno scopo e nessuna ragione, e non si sottomette a nessun potere fuorché alla grazia umana,” she finished in a whisper, affecting Spencer in a way he hadn’t anticipated. Through fluttering eyelashes, she looked up at him, awaiting his rendition, and suddenly the temperature felt as if it had risen. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t been here almost as many times as him; she knew her way around Rossi’s holiday home, but Spencer had insisted on showing her his favourite room, claiming she hadn’t seen it yet. Diverting her attention from Emily’s anecdotes, “I kind of want you all to myself for a little bit,” he whispered in a kiss on her shoulder, proceeding to take her hand and pull her away from chatter over a jug of Cuban rum and homemade pizza - making sure to dissect, in explanation, nearly every painting adorning the maze of hallways on their short trek. He cleared his throat, prying his gaze away from the skin her little black dress revealed, unabashedly scanning her lips before using his own to form words. “True love is like this,” he subtly eyed her reaction to his words as he tried hard to not transliterate the European language. “It has no purpose and no reason, and it does not submit to any power except human grace.” Spencer’s voice was a newly inked quill, ebbing and flowing through the hot air of the dimly lit room. The dark winged butterflies that had been floating around her stomach all evening fluttered in a frenzy at his words, and the way the chartreuse of his eyes had been absorbed by black as they laid on her. “For such a dark story, it’s so beautiful,” she exhaled in a hushed tone, stare not leaving his as he slowly slid the book into the hollow slot where it had previously inhabited, too occupied by reading her demeanour to pay the book any more attention. “You think so? The author, Morante, Elsa Morante, was actually considered the greatest writer of Italy’s postwar generation, at one point.” Spencer began to rest his weight against the wall as they conversed. “I feel as if we always hear about Bassani or Parise, and all the unorthodox things Landolfi wrote in the fifties. It’s very refreshing to hear of a woman getting some well deserved recognition in such a male dominated niche,” she remarked. A dimple appeared on Spencer’s cheek as he grinned at the way she sounded a lot like him. “Agreed. In fact, Morante actually claimed she wished she’d been born a boy, so that she could have all of these heroic adventures. Once, when she was asked about the hero of that book,” he pointed towards the worn copy of L'isola di Arturo, “she commented: ‘Arturo, c’est moi!’,” 

“Living vicariously through him? Interesting,” she tilted her head slightly, “I also think its remarkable how beauty can emerge from so much pain,” she mulled aloud. His eyebrows raised at her words and the flux in her tone of voice. Slowly, she stepped towards him, forearms resting on his shoulders, entangling behind him. 

Earlier, she’d had the privilege of styling him as he stood in front of their shared mirror, muttering complaints of how he had 'nothing to wear’. Now, she repeated maledictions to herself regarding the clothing she had chosen, in her head, as she admired the way his black shirt was rolled up at the sleeves - displaying intricate nerves shadowing his fingers and arms - and simultaneously unbuttoned temptingly low on his chest, exposing the silver chain presenting a small initial, hers. The summer night had made sure a thin veil of sweat coated his collarbones, glistening with his movements under the lamp light. “It’s not a surprising process though - I mean, after the year you’ve had, just look at how pretty you are,”

“Did you just-” he gulped, chuckling, “use the copious amounts of semi-resolved trauma I harbour to romance me?”

“I may have,” she whispered into the skin below his ear, both hands now tangled in his hair as he remained pressed up against the wall, grateful that every wound, fight and flaw had led them here. And she never ceased to make her gratitude known. Tonight, though, ever since she’d caught sight of his hand gripping a cold glass, the strong concoction presumably belonging to Luke, she hadn’t been able to stop envisioning his body on top of hers. Unbeknownst to her, his thoughts had been very similar from the second she’d chosen to wear the satin fabric, claiming it matched his shirt, while leaving very little to the imagination. “Y/N,” he spoke, his body involuntarily leaning into hers. “We can’t- Not now.” His body language betrayed his words. “I don’t study behaviour for a living, unlike everyone else here, but Spencer, right now, yours tells me we can,” she brought down a hand to squeeze his wrist, which was resting against her lower back. He couldn’t breathe. Tongue in cheek, he shook his head at her, a smirk breaking way. “You, my pretty lady, are something else,” he caved, switching their position in a more urgent manoeuvre than either of them anticipated. Spencer’s hands grasped her jaw, his breath fanning over her before his lips collided with hers, messily. A hand cradled the back of her head, heeding any impact with the wooden blockade behind her, fingers and hair tangling together. Her hands travelled along his body, pinky tugging on his necklace in pursuit of closeness, while her lips roamed around his bobbing Adam’s apple, eliciting an exquisite string of moans. Spencer’s leg wedged itself between hers, slowly grazing his thigh against her, using a firm grip to guide her hips downwards, her soft sighs and tugs at his roots only encouraging him. 

The euphoria was short lived. A rapping on the library door tore them apart, its hinges creaking and giving way to an astounded looking Penelope Garcia. “Naughty!” she factitiously gasped. “I didn’t think the good doctor and his fine missus had it in them, but I was very, very wrong,”

“We were just-“ Y/N began, only to be cut off by the tipsy agent. “Save the excuses, beautiful lady. I was simply quested to find you two, and let you know that the rest of us are off to take a dip in the spa. Bring your boy toy, and scrumptious self, and join us ASAP - oh! And no funny business! There are children here,” Penelope gestured her two fingers away from her spectacles and towards each of them as a silent threat of ‘I’m watching you’. Y/N and Spencer exchanged a look, both flushed in different shades of red, on their way to creating a colour wheel. As Penelope spun on her heels and rushed to shut the door behind her, “Thank you, Penelope!” Y/N squeaked, Spencer exclaiming a timid “And sorry!” The two of them broke out into a fit of laughter, still frazzled. “I think I’m getting a little too comfortable with your team,” she grimaced, earning a laugh from the doctor. Later, as Spencer led her towards a bathroom, her arms occupied by a stack of towels, his hand on the small of her back, he dreaded the amount of self control he would need to invoke when the two of them would undress to change. 

What she had said wasn’t entirely untrue. She was indeed very comfortable with his team. If Spencer could have met himself, a year ago, anxious to introduce who he was sure was the love of his life to his dearest friends, he would flick himself in the head. She, not alarmingly, managed to get along with everyone, almost better than he did. Somehow managing to find common ground, even with Aaron Hotchner. He recalls, one night, months ago, listening to her and the usually stoic man debate about which broadway production was better: The Producers or The Phantom of the Opera. Spencer also recalls exactly how riled up he became as he watched her put the ex-theatric-gone-lawyer in his place after calling upon Spencer for some Tony Award statistics. Admittedly, he actively needed to combat the green eyed monster on his back whenever she would go jogging with Luke - but the way she kissed him before leaving, on her tiptoes in her running shoes, whispering ‘I love you’, and ‘I’m really only going for Roxy’, helped. She had become family, the invisible stamp of approval having been silently awarded when they all saw the looks the two of them shared, the three subtle squeezes in their woven hands, and the way Spencer now smiled with his teeth - the way they way they would move the moon and the earth for one another. 

Packed into the watery sauna, words exchanged between the group travelled into the atmosphere, a waxing gibbous eavesdropping overhead. She watched as Spencer squirmed across from her at the nearness to so many sweaty bodies, shoulders, elbows, knees and toes, belonging to anybody and everybody, poking him. Her eyes trailed along the dips and swells at the base of his neck, decorated in its usual, dainty, shimmering pendant, the bones there protruding as he slouched forward. Spencer’s hair was matted, condensation ironing chestnut ringlets to his forehead, complimenting his heated crimson cheeks. The butterflies returned, her stomach flipping as he ran his hand through the mop of curls to ease his discomfort. More of him - that was what she wanted. She hadn’t noticed, but she had been biting her lip nearly hard enough to draw blood. Pulling her back from her thoughts, a heavy exhale travelled past her left ear, changing the course of the steam emerging from the water - a stream of air enough to deflate a person, she noticed. “I can’t remember the last time I felt this relaxed.” The blonde rested her head against the barrier of the tub, seeing bright patterns on her eyelids as they shut over her eyes momentarily. Y/N reached over and grasped one of her shoulders in a clinical manner. “Who are you, and what have you done with Jennifer and the gruelling tension in her neck and jaw?” She interrogated, lightheartedly. “What can I say? Stress is my middle name,” she chuckled. “While we’re on the topic, though... Maybe you could give me one of those trigger-point massages,” she opened one eye, an iris burning sapphire, the blue only rival to that of the one from The Tell Tale Heart, finding Y/N’s face. Retreating her hand, having made her point, she let out a laugh at JJ’s words, “I’m afraid that’ll cost y-” Y/N’s eyes widened at the familiar dialect of the words, a charlatan on JJ’s tongue. “Wait a minute, can you repeat what you just said, but slowly?” 

“Oh, I know you heard me perfectly clear,” JJ smirked at her, eyebrows raising as her eyes shifted between the flustered woman and Spencer. 

They had a friendship of unfamiliar closeness, which JJ cherished. After nights of babysitting turning into wining with Merlot and dining on flaming dreaded cheese puffs, stashed away in an airtight container, upon JJ’s arrival home, the two had grown close. The agent was grateful for conversation veering away from work, and for someone seeing her from a different lens; one through which she wasn’t fizzled down to a petrie dish of a mother through a workaholic microscope. Y/N was curious to know how her famous mandatory-Spencer-de-stressing-trigger-point massages had come up in conversation between JJ and her, now guilty looking, boyfriend. She crossed her fingers in hopes that he’d spared the details of the events that usually took place following the neck rubs - another kind of de-stressing altogether. “Do you guys hear that? I think Will’s calling me- and I should go put Henry to bed… It’s quite late…” she exaggerated, wearing a redolent expression as she slunk away with a towel around her cold frame. “We’ll talk later, Jareau,” she looked up at JJ, after the shivering woman squeezed her shoulders in a bid goodnight, waving to the small crowd. Swiftly, Y/N’s gaze met Spencer’s, her figure not having left his vision once. 

The yard and small pool was clearing out, save for Luke and Tara bickering in the corner, so, through the bubbling water, she waded in Spencer’s direction, noticing the way he was evidently mentally undressing her. As if by his telepathy, a thin strap of her bathing suit slipped from its place, causing the gears in Spencer’s head to stop turning as he swallowed thickly. “Hey handsome, long time no speak.” A soft smile graced his lips, adoration for her evident, in place of his muted response. Wordlessly, he slipped a finger beneath the strap, tentatively putting it back in place, refusing to break eye contact in some unspoken play for power. “What’re you up to?” She squinted, wondering exactly what his motives were. “Nothing much,” he pulled her closer by the waist, whispering in a gravelly voice only she could hear, “I’m just thinking about how you didn’t get the chance to finish what you started, earlier,”

“Are you implying that you want me to…” she floated onto his lap, hands draping around his neck to steady herself, “pick up where we left off?” The question left her mouth in a breathy whisper, straight into his ear. He turned to look at her, unblinking. “I’m implying, that I’ve had those pretty noises you make replaying in my head all night, and that I’d like to hear them again,”

“Remind me, doctor, which one of us said ‘we can’t’?,” she mocked his whine, rolling her eyes back. “I have a better suggestion, how about you remind me which one of us struggled to stand the last time we played this game?” The calmness of his voice was the antithesis of the fire she was feeling inside her. Satisfied with her speechlessness, his eyes drifted down her body as she pried herself off him, settling in the plastic indent of a hot tub seat to his side. The attention of the pair of lovers were drawn to Tara’s laughter as she stepped into a robe, calling it a night. “What’d we miss?” Spencer’s clueless innocence returned, as if the words he’d spoken before were now out of mind. Devilishly, Tara responded, “Oh, you know, just me completely destroying this man’s ego,”

“Doesn’t take much does it?” Y/N offered Tara her fist in solidarity. “No it does not,” Tara chuckled, bumping it with her own. “You guys do realise that I’m right here?” Luke scoffed, also drying himself off. “I think that adds to their point?” Spencer offered, pursing his lips, amused. “Well, I’m going to go and catch some sleep, and maybe even shed a few tears over what’s been said about me,” he playfully scowled at Tara walking away, throwing a middle finger at him through the air without looking back. “Trust me, they are very professional,” Spencer promised, turning towards his only remaining company in laughter. “I’m sure they are,” she joked returning a smile. 

The two of them talked beneath an ink sky, stars like pinpricks in a blanket twinkling through their conversation, until she found herself on Spencer’s lap, once again, the ambience shifting to something far more carnal. Throughout the night, like a band of elastic stretching between two fingers, the tension between them had heightened. Now, they both tested the limits, anticipating its snap. His chlorine skin tasted electric on her tongue as she painted his neck and chest with a lilac rendition of the silver initial dangling there, letting his sighs catch in the shells of her ears. Allowing her tongue to explore his mouth, his hands tightened around her waist. “Mhm, no, Y/N,” he spoke, regaining his fleeting conscience. “This,” — kiss — “is a bad,” — kiss — “idea,”

“Spencer, look,” she glanced over at the house, and his eyes followed suite, craning his neck slightly. “What do you see?” She asked. “Aside from a house bigger than my entire apartment complex?” Her face was a deadpan. “All the lights are out, Spencer,” she gave him a look that said, come on, profiler, figure it out. Not a single connection formed in his head as he stared at the way the luminous blue of the night time water cast ripples on her skin - skin which was all over his. “All the lights are out… It’s late… and everyone’s asleep,” he reasoned, more to himself than in response to her insinuation. “We have no real chance of getting caught, plus…” her dark eyes were obscured by the eyelashes sheltering them as she tilted her head. “Would it be so bad if we did?” Two of her fingers danced along his chest, walking towards the damp hair at the nape of his neck, using the strands to pull him closer. “Everyone knowing exactly how good you make me feel?” She purred the last part in his ear, tugging at the cartilage with her teeth. Spencer partially whimpered. “Don’t hold back, gorgeous boy. You sound as good as you taste.” His eyes shut as his head hit the rim of the spa - only briefly losing himself once her mouth was on him again. “Someone’s talking like they’re in charge,” he tilted her chin up towards him, forcing her eyes onto his own. “I seem to be the one doing all the work here,” she teased. He kissed each of her collarbones, eyes still trained on hers. “You shouldn’t speak so soon.” With that, he undid the top of her swim suit, exposing her chest to the frigid night air, compelling a gasp. “Truthfully, I’ve been thinking about doing this a majority of the night.” The bass in his voice reached her core. “For someone who is so fastidious about cleanliness, you sure have a dirty, dirty mind, doct-” She never had the chance to finish the honorific, his lips moulding around a hardening nipple, allowing his fingers to toy with the other. Rolling his tongue around the bud, he smiled to himself as he heard her call out his name, over and over, as if her voice was coming through a scratched vinyl. “Where’s all the talk from before?”

“You’re evil,” she groaned, her hips bucking against his board short clad body. 

Spencers lips travelled along the valley of her breasts, only to hike back up them at a tantalising pace, prehensile fingers covering the ground his mouth couldn’t. Her hands grasped so tight in his hair, he was sure the strands would fall out. A groan of his own left vibrations reverberating through her body, causing her heart to jump. “Alright, you’ve had your fun,” he gnarred, as his hands gripped her wrists, holding them behind her back. With his unoccupied hand, he dipped his fingers into what was left of her apparel. “Is this all for me?” He smirked at the ease with which his fingers slipped over her. “Don’t flatter yourself, we’re in water,”

“You’re so impolite - even when I’m spoiling you,” tutted Spencer. Retroceding his hand, determined to leave her on edge, and her skin a mirror image of his, he continued to pin her fragile hands back against the base of her spine. “S-Spencer, please,” her words struggled to make any sense, “please, I need more,” she panted out, moving purposefully along the growing outline in his shorts. The pleasure was overwhelming. Spencer fiddled with the material still covering her, pulling it aside to make way for himself in between her legs. His eyes softened, silently seeking permission, even as she impatiently pulled down his waistband. When she nodded and eased his ailing with a soft, lingering kiss, he slowly pushed himself into her, never failing to be acutely attentive to her comfort as if it was their first time together. “This was what you were after?” Teased Spencer, his hips speeding up. “So badly,” she uttered out a sigh. “Then take it like you want it.” She craved his adept touch, and she made that known. “S- Spencer, oh god,” she groaned, “you feel so fucking good.” His breathing became heavier, softs grunts and hisses filling her ears with every movement. She buried her face in the crook of his neck, whining in a destitute way at the full feeling. At a slower pace, one of Spencer’s hands guided her hips along himself, while the other traced infinity on her sensitive nerves. “Sweet girl- fuck, you feel like a dream,” he moaned as she tightened around him. Her toes curled, the warm water of the pool splashing her bare skin. Spencer occupied all of her senses, the same way she did his. “I’m so close,” she whimpered, before he used his nose to nudge her face upwards, her momentarily open eyes reflecting constellations. Spencer kissed her once more. Her hands long freed from his grip, she left traces of herself in the form of tiny red sickles on his freckled back as her nails released some frustration. 

Dragging her fingers along his torso, she felt the muscles of his stomach tighten, hers doing the same. Shaky sighs wavered from her lips at the bliss Spencer was providing. “Keep your eyes open for me, angel,” she tried her hardest to focus on his lustfully blown pupils. “That’s it. Just look at what you do to me,” he gasped out, head falling backwards, eye contact broken - only for a second - before he gulped and looked back at her. “You’re breathtaking,” she whispered, hoarsely, stroking his sweaty cheekbone with her thumb.  She could recognise the golden gates of heaven in his eyes as he came undone inside her, warmth spilling over her in every aspect. The knots in her stomach loosened shortly after his, curses spilling from both of them. She rode him through his release, fond of the way he left light kisses on her temple, whispering compliments and confessions of love. Once he was sure she’d caught her breath, and some air had returned to his own lungs, he kissed her, gently, in the summer sauna heat, beneath the stars.

A loud cough startled the two. Stood in the open French doors of the veranda, scotch in hand, and eyes screwed shut, was David Rossi. Their minds were in the same place, wondering why they hadn't listened to Penelope’s drunken advice. “When you two are done, please remember to turn the tub lights off - and put the filter on high.” She hid herself in Spencer’s chest, heartbeat in her ears, contemplating holding her breath for a really, really long time. Spencer was flushed red, his own nose buried in her neck so as to not face the older man. “Or better yet, put some money together to buy me an entirely new spa,” Rossi, laughed, opening one eye to catch sight of Spencer giving him a shameful thumbs up. Even as Rossi wandered away, their embarrassment remained a fresh burn. Spencer groaned as her tired hand fumbled with his disastrous hair, “I don’t even want to begin thinking about how much of that he heard,”

“Or saw,”

“Don’t!”

“I’m never going to be invited here ever again, am I?”