#and i like established relationships that like each other even more

[hard-core-super-star]

brought you together so nice [W.Maximoff + N.Romanoff]

pairing: dom!natasha romanoff x sub!reader x switch!wanda maximoff

summary: natasha takes care of you until wanda comes back. needless to say, the witch is more than happy about the arrangement you both came up with in her absence.

warnings: SMUT, MINORS DO NO INTERACT -> porn with very little plot but even more feelings; mommy + daddy kink; slightly more established dom/dub dynamics; a dash of pet play (as usual); bondage; gagging; soft domme nat + bratty wanda!!!!; vibrator use [R receiving]; praise + degradation + a dash of humiliation; hair pulling; spanking; aftercare

wordcount: 4.1k

a/n: well, well, well...guess who got too attached to another series? yup, me 😅 these two have taken up more of my mind than i originally thought so here is part three of this little series. i don't have a plan to make another full part, but i might mess around and write a few blurbs here and there. we'll see what happens. anyway, thank you for all your support, especially regarding this little series. i'm thinking of opening my requests back up until the start of the new year so keep an eye out for that ;) [commissions are still more than welcome, though!] okay, i'll stop rambling for now, hope you enjoy <3

* * * * * * *

Natasha could be sweet when she wanted to.

That was the first thing you learned after agreeing to become her and Wanda's submissive. 

The rules and details weren't too clear yet, the redhead promising to answer all your questions as soon as the Sokovian came back from her mission. Still, she did what she could to fill in the gaps of your knowledge, allowing you to ask her as many questions as you pleased before showing you, in great detail, what she meant.

Despite the cold exterior you'd learned to love, she was much softer with you than you'd ever imagined. Sure, she was still a mean domme at heart, but she wanted to show you heights of pleasure you'd never experienced before.

And she went to great lengths to guarantee it.

It quickly became clear to you how much she loved impact play. Even outside of play sessions, she would always come up behind you, landing a hard smack to your ass before pulling you into her arms. You didn't mind, even when she did it in front of the others.

(Although Tony did whistle at you guys once and promptly earned himself a punch to the stomach. He laughed it off but made sure to never tease the Widow about her behavior with you again.)

You knew there were a lot of things you didn't know or fully understand, but Natasha always seemed to find a way to make you feel more excited than nervous about it. It was almost funny how quickly her personality changed once she allowed you to see past her walls.

Sure, she was still a little mean and more than a little snarky (which is exactly how you liked her, if you were being honest) yet there was a softer, affectionate, side that started coming out more and more.

She told you it was simply because Wanda wasn't around and she wasn't allowed to "break you in" without her around. Maybe it was a silly excuse perfectly crafted to keep you on your toes, but you didn't really mind.

Well, except because you really missed Wanda.

Being without the witch was harder than you thought it would be, but the Widow kept you busy enough to forget the empty spot beside you in their bed.

Your bed.

That was the second thing Natasha made you learn. 

Yes, you were technically an addition to their relationship, but you weren't an outsider. You never were.

That was the third thing you learned.

Both Natasha and Wanda had their eyes on you from the very beginning. They loved each other, and their relationship made them happier than they could put into words, and yet they always felt something was missing. A third energy to keep them in check. To stop them from getting too rough, too mean with each other. To help remember how to be soft after spending so much time fighting with the world.

It was...strange, but you couldn't deny what they meant to you. The attraction you felt toward them had always been there and after Wanda opened that door...well, let's just say there was no going back.

You didn't understand how real that was until now.

Because somehow, someway, after carrying guilt you didn't even need to have in the first place, you were here.

You were theirs.

You were waking up in their bed with Natasha's arms wrapped tight around your waist.

A shudder ran down your body as the redhead's lips met your bare shoulder, peppering kisses across the skin. "Morning, detka. Sleep well?"

"Yeah," you reply as a smile forms on your face. "You're a fantastic cuddler."

"Shut up," she mumbles. There's a clear lack of annoyance in her words despite her attempts at sounding tough. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Your grip on me begs to differ."

At your response, her hands move to grip your waist, her nails digging into your soft skin. The sensation makes you gasp, your back arching almost instantly. You can feel the redhead smiling against your skin. It hasn't been that long and she already knows your body better than you do.

"Sorry, were you saying something?" She says, taking advantage of your reactions to grind against your ass. "You seem a little distracted."

 It's a bit of a cruel game but it's one she loves to play with you. Truth be told, she loves playing with you, period. You're so different from Wanda, so much more responsive, more honest about your constant neediness.

"I don't know what you're talking about," you mumble, not so subtly grinding back against her.

Just because you were slowly learning the rules regarding your place didn't mean you didn't love pushing Natasha's buttons whenever you could. Which really only happened in the mornings and during aftercare. Those were the only two moments when the older woman allowed herself to be soft with you, to let you see behind the walls she'd expertly put up to keep everyone out. Everyone except you and Wanda, it seems.

Her voice remains low, straddling the border between a tease and a warning. "Is my good girl trying to be a brat?"

Your heart skips a beat at her words. At the mention of being her good girl. Of being hers.

After the rough beginning your relationship had, you never thought you'd be let into her heart in any way. And yet here you are. You're her good girl, her kitten, her darling submissive.

"No..." You trail off, trying to decide whether to behave or push her buttons a little more. Ultimately, your desire to be a little shit wins out. "...Daddy."

Natasha chuckles behind you, her hands moving from your hips and toward your breasts. She gives them a soft squeeze as her thumbs tease your hardening nipples. "Oh, kotenok, you woke up cheeky this morning, huh? You know what mouthing off like that will earn you, right?"

You do know. She's told you many, many times before, usually while she's praising you for being so good for her and drawing out orgasm after orgasm from your overstimulated body.

However, she's never actually acted out any of her warnings. It's a good thing, you know that, and yet you can't stop yourself from wanting to see what it will feel like. To explore what that kind of submission will do to you.

"Yes, Daddy. I know."

She hums before going right back to kissing across your shoulders, nipping at your skin just to get you to arch into her teasing hands. "I see...you want to be punished, don't you? Want Daddy to remind you of your place until there's nothing else inside your mind?"

You're about to reply when you're interrupted by F.R.I.D.A.Y. "Miss Romanoff, Miss Maximoff has asked me to notify you of her return."

Your cheeks flush, even though the disembodied voice can't see what exactly you're up to this morning. At the very least, F.R.I.D.A.Y. is a lot less nosy than Jarvis ever was. Although, if you're being honest, you liked him better before he turned into a robot.

"I'm assuming she'll be at the Medbay for a while?" The Widow replies, her mind no doubt full of the things she'll do to you to pass the time.

"Yes, it seems she'll be there for the next half hour."

"Good. Thank you, Friday."

The AI doesn't reply and you can practically imagine her making a swift exit out of the room, leaving you to face whatever it is that the redhead has come up with.

"y/n..." Natasha purrs, her breath hot against your ear. "I have an idea. Why don't we give Mommy a nice surprise, hmm? Don't you want to be her pretty welcome back gift?"

You're not sure what being Wanda's "welcome back gift" will entail, but you can't deny your curiosity about it. Especially since the witch has no idea what you and her girlfriend have been up to. You have no doubt she has her suspicions, she is a mind reader after all, but it'll still be nice to surprise her.

You agree before you even know what you're doing, and Natasha wastes no time in springing into action.

In a matter of minutes, you go from lying comfortably under the covers to being spread out on your back, your limbs tied to each corner of the bed. You're exposed, vulnerable, and you love every second of it.

Of course, Natasha isn't satisfied with that. No, to top off the pretty sight you make, she places a deep, dark red ball gag between your lips. You shouldn't be surprised since, after all, you did ask for it.

"There we go," the redhead hums appreciatively, her eyes taking in the beautiful sight. "Now, just sit tight, okay, detka? I'll be right back."

You whine instantly, but she pays no mind to you, quickly making her way out of the bedroom and going to look for Wanda. You're not exactly happy about being left alone yet, there's nothing you can do. All you can do is throw your head back in frustration and wait for your lovers to return.

You're not sure how much time goes by, although there's no doubt in your mind that Natasha does her best to draw out their return just to mess with you, but eventually, they make their way back to you.

The sound of the door opening makes you practically vibrate with excitement, your hips wiggling from side to side without thinking.

"Well, would you look at that," Wanda says as she steps further into the room. "Looks like someone was having fun without me."

Natasha follows her in, standing behind her and wrapping her arms around her waist. There's something so domestic about the action that makes your heart clench.

"I had to get her ready for you, darling," the redhead replies as her chin finds the other woman's shoulder. "She looks good, doesn't she?"

"She sure does. I take it you worked out your issues?"

"We came to an...agreement, yes. I couldn't let you have all the fun."

Wanda chuckles, the corners of her mouth quirking up into a fond smile. There's no mistaking the fire in her eyes, though, the desire simmering below the surface. "And you said I was crazy for wanting her to join us."

The Widow grumbles, clearly not quite ready to admit her girlfriend was right. "You're still not off the hook, you let her believe you cheated on me."

"When are you going to let that go?"

"I'm not sure, maybe you should make it up to me."

Natasha's eyes remain on you but Wanda turns around, silencing her girlfriend's complaints with a fiery kiss. All you can do is watch, feeling left out and far too involved at the same time. You're slowly getting used to their competitive antics.

Their kisses turn desperate in nothing short of a few seconds, leaving you far too desperate and needy while you squirm around on the bed. They take their sweet time getting back to you, though, instead letting their hands wander over each other's bodies.

You'd love to complain but you're still gagged so talking is pretty much impossible. More than that...you can't say you're not loving the view. It makes you feel a little dirty, like you're watching an intimate scene you shouldn't be, and it brings a rush unlike anything you've ever felt before.

They know, because of course they know, and your obvious arousal only motivates them to tease you.

Natasha moves first, expert hands reaching for the hem of Wanda's shirt and lifting it over her head in an instant. "I missed you."

"Are you talking to me or my boobs?" The witch replies with a perfectly raised eyebrow.

"I'm talking to all of you."

"Nice save, 'Tasha."

"Shut up."

There's something comforting about the scene in front of you, even as your frustration builds. You've been with them before, but it's different this time. You can feel the change in energy, the easy chemistry that flows between all of you now that Natasha isn't trying to push you away.

"Come on, I think we've teased our good girl long enough," Wanda says, taking the redhead's hand and leading her toward the bed. "Isn't that right, sweetheart? You're feeling a little frustrated, hmm?"

You nod desperately in response, tugging at the rope that holds you down. Your actions only make both of your lovers chuckle.

"Look at her, she's drenched and we haven't gotten started yet," Natasha comments, her eyes trailing up and down your body like a predator assessing its prey.

"I'm guessing this means training's going well."

"She's a quick learner. A bit bratty sometimes, though."

The way they talk about you as if you're not a part of the conversation has you clenching around pure air. It doesn't help that the Widow is so accurate in her assessment of you. You love being submissive, being under their control, but you can't deny how much fun it is to disobey. To push against the boundaries she's set for you, not to defy her but to tease her. Maybe even test her a little.

It's far too fun.

"Is that right, sweetheart?" Wanda asks, even though your body language makes it clear how correct Natasha is. "I thought you liked being our good girl. Because if you don't, well...you know what happens to naughty girls, don't you?"

Of course you know. It was one of the first things the redhead taught you. Sure, the rules and terms weren't too fleshed out yet since Natasha had wanted her girlfriend to be a part of the whole exchange, but she'd gone over most things with you. Rewards, punishments, hard limits, all that stuff.

You're unable to tell the witch that, though, thanks to the gag in your mouth. Your incoherent mumbles seem to entertain her for a few seconds while Natasha sneaks off toward their closet.

Wanda's chuckle cuts through the air. Your attempts at convincing her you've been good clearly amuse her. "I know, baby, I know you like being good. Otherwise, Nat wouldn't be so attached to you."

"I'm not attached," the redhead grumbles.

A month ago, her words would have made your heart drop into your stomach. Now, though, you know she's only playing a part. She has no problem telling you how she feels outside of a scene, but when you're playing, when you're being their pet, she's right back to being mean. Right back to degrading you and humiliating you until you're riding the edge of pleasure and pain.

"Keep telling yourself that, darling."

"Oh, I will."

Their banter is borderline comforting. You've loved spending time with Natasha, but this, being with them and seeing their personalities come together, this is where you thrive.

Well, it's not like you're doing much. Then again, they like you most when you're like this. Vulnerable, at their mercy, and so obviously loving every second of it.

Wanda climbs onto bed with you, crawling over your body until she's hovering over you with a gentle smile that steals all your worries away. "'Tasha's such a liar, isn't she, sweetheart? It's okay, let her act like she's the big bad."

You want to laugh, but it's a little hard when she's leaning down to pepper kisses all over your face. The action is far softer than what you were expecting and it makes your heart soar.

You were ready for a rougher training session, for a trial run meant to show you what you had been missing in the witch's absence. But this? This is really good too.

Wanda continues her loving assault on your skin, trailing kisses down your jaw and toward your neck. You tilt your head back in response, earning a soft giggle muffled against your skin, as she kisses and nibbles all up and down your throat. There's no doubt in your mind that she's littering your skin with hickies and noticeable marks, but you find you really don't mind it.

The witch steals your attention long enough for Natasha to gather a few supplies before making her way over to you. You feel her set a few things down next to you, but you don't get to see what they are. Not that you really mind considering how busy your mind is.

"Stop hogging her attention, that's not very fair."

"It's not my fault you left her so fuzzy-headed. Poor girl didn't even stand a chance, huh?"

You shake your head, a few muffled whines making their way out of you.

Natasha chuckles as she shifts onto her knees next to you. Her hands find their way between you and Wanda's bodies, teasing your skin as she explores the territory she's spent the past few days claiming.

"Oh, please. This is nothing. You should've seen the state she was in last night."

The reminder makes you squirm in your restraints, trying to get closer to them to no avail. You know how desperate you look, how absolutely needy you are, but you can't find it in yourself to care. This is what you had been waiting for. To be completely theirs. To surrender to them and accept everything they were willing to give you. Sure, it was intimidating and yet it felt incredibly right.

"Are you trying to make me jealous?" Wanda responds, working her way down your body, expertly avoiding the areas where her girlfriend is touching you.

"You deserve it. Wasn't this your fantasy?"

"Maybe. It was hers first, though. Isn't that right, detka?"

The change in topic makes you blush. It shouldn't be surprising to hear that the witch had already known about your feelings for her but it's still a little embarrassing. At least she seems to enjoy it.

You nod, your movements slightly frantic and no doubt fueled by the feeling of her lips on your flushed skin. She takes her time dragging her lips up and down your inner thighs as Natasha teases your hardening nipples.

"Such a good little slut. I bet you're already so fuzzy. Just want your cunt played with and nothing else." The redhead distracts you with her words, leaving you completely unprepared for Wanda's continued assault.

You don't hear the thrumming sound of the vibrator coming to life, but you sure feel it against your sensitive clit. Your whole body shudders in response as your hips buck in a desperate attempt to escape the overwhelming sensation.

Your reaction makes the witch laugh and she leans down to press a few more kisses to your thighs. "There you go, that's what I like to see."

Her words feel more like humiliation than praise and yet you can't find it in yourself to care. Not when it feels so good that it borders on painful.

"Excuse you, we were having a little chat." Natasha's tease is coupled with a firm grip in your hair as she tilts your head toward her. "I'll have to train you if you don't fix that attention span, pet."

"Be nice, Nat, it's not her fault she likes me more."

"God, you're such a brat, Maximoff." Her free hand leaves your body to land a sharp smack against Wanda's ass. "I'll put you in your place too, if I have to."

The witch hums in response, very clearly pushing herself back against the redhead's hand. "You know I'd enjoy it."

Natasha spanks her again and the sight has you bucking your hips faster as you search for more pleasure. You let out a string of whines, already feeling yourself on the edge of an orgasm. It's a little embarrassing how quickly you're reaching your limit but in your defense, you've been worked up ever since you woke up. You were bound to lose from the beginning.

"Don't tell me you want to cum already, sweetheart? We've barely gotten started."

You want to defend yourself, but your attempts are instant failures. Natasha seems to get off on how pathetic you sound, though.

"It's alright, kitten, why don't you go ahead and cum for me? Mommy hasn't earned her reward just yet."

Wanda opens her mouth to object but she doesn't get very far since the redhead goes right back to spanking her.

You're not used to seeing the witch in a slightly more submissive position. She always seem to straddle the border between being fully in control and immersed below Natasha's dominance. This change of pace is more than welcome, though.

The vibrator gets pushed harder against your sensitive clit and the pressure sends you over the edge almost instantly. You don't get a chance to warn them, all you can do is give in to the sudden pleasure as your body trembles beneath them.

They're both distracted by the sight of your orgasm crashing into you so suddenly. So beautifully.

"What a good girl," Natasha murmurs appreciatively. "You could learn a thing or two from her, Wands."

"Whatever." You miss the way the witch rolls her eyes since your eyes are more than a little blurry and there's a soft ringing in your ears. "It won't be my fault when she forgets her place, Daddy."

That earns her another spank, but she's too busy moving the vibrator away from your drenched cunt to care. You whine softly at the loss of contact even though you feel far too sensitive to take much more.

Apparently, you look as out of it as you feel because the older women take a few moments to let you catch your breath.

Wanda's hands gently stroke up and down your legs to keep you grounded while Natasha shifts closer, her hands reaching out to undo the ballgag. "How are you feeling, kotenok? Do you want to keep going?"

Your throat's a little dry, but you manage to form a reply. "I'm okay. Just need to catch my breath."

The Widow nods before reaching over to grab the bottled water on the nightstand. She helps you take a few sips of water while Wanda continues to caress your skin, both giving you as much time as you need to recover. It's such a small thing and yet it's a reminder of why you're so attached to them. Why you need them more and more with every day that goes by.

Your relationship with them might have had a bit of a rough start, but you couldn't imagine a better outcome. Couldn't imagine two better people to surrender your heart to.

"Someone's in a romantic mood," Wanda pipes up with a soft smile.

Her words cause an instant response in you and you feel your face grow warmer by the second. "Why are you in my mind right now?"

"Because your thoughts about me are so loud," she replies almost instantly. "Don't look so embarrassed, detka, I think it's cute."

"Shut up," you mumble, momentarily forgetting where you are and what you're in the middle of doing.

Wanda's smile turns slightly dark and her hand comes down against your thigh before you can even think about what you did wrong. "Where'd your manners go, huh?"

The sensation makes you shiver, but Natasha reaches a hand out to stop the witch from smacking your thigh again. "Time out, darling. I don't think we're quite ready to keep going."

You want to argue with her and yet you make no real effort to. As much as you might want to keep going, you can't deny how overwhelming it all was...and how desperate you are for some cuddles.

"Sorry," you mumble.

Wanda instantly shushes you as she uses her magic to undo the restraints keeping you tied down. "Nonsense, you have nothing to apologize for."

The second your limbs are free, Natasha's hands are on you again. This time, though, she merely maneuvers you onto your side so she's able to slide in behind you. The second her arms wrap around your waist, your shoulders let go of the tension they've been holding. 

Wanda wastes no time in joining the two of you, laying down in front of you and reaching up to play with your hair. "Just relax, we have all day to pick up where we left off."

"Don't rush her, little witch."

Natasha's words make you chuckle and you lean forward until you're practically buried in the witch's chest. "I'm okay, guys. I don't break easily."

A beat of silence goes by as they allow you to soak in the afterglow, in the feeling of their embrace.

But the Widow really can't help herself.

"Are you sure? Maybe we should test that out."

Her words are a tease, but none of you can deny your curiosity...or your arousal.

Needless to say, you spend most of the day tangled up in their bed.

Your bed.

With the two women who mean the absolute world to you.

[spencerreidwifey]

Tied Up - Spencer Reid

MDNI! 18+!

Summary: Spencer reveals his private red room to the reader, but when unexpected guests arrive he’s forced to leave her alone, leaving tension literally hanging in the air.

Masterlist!

Part 2 - Tied 2 You!

Post Prison!Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Genre: Smut 🔥

Word Count: 8.2K

Warnings: MDNI! 18+! softdom!spencer, sub!reader, pre-established relationship, pre-established safe words, SLOW BURN, chains mentioned, whips mentioned, blindfold mentioned, flogger mentioned, handcuffs used, use of ‘Good Girl’, use of safe words, thigh riding, no sex, just teasing (sorry).

WARNING: THIS IS MY FIRST EVER FIC, PLEASE BE NICE

The room felt like it was closing in on her, each item on display mocking her—mocking the reality she’d always known. She was no stranger to the darker corners of the human psyche, but this? This was something she hadn’t expected, especially not from Spencer. The chains, the whips, the cuffs... it was all laid out in front of her, each object far too intimate, far too raw, like a slap to the face. A stark contrast to the quiet reserved Spencer she thought she knew.

Spencer Reid, the FBI genius with a shy smile and a brain that could unravel the most complex cases, had always been hard to understand. But this—this—was not the Spencer she’d known, and yet, in a way, it was exactly the one she’d feared existed beneath the surface. Prison had changed him, she knew that. He’d come back with a quiet storm inside him, a part of him more ferocious than she’d ever expected. But this... this was far beyond what she had prepared for.

Her heart was racing, the intensity of the room’s atmosphere mixing with the intensity of the moment itself. She could feel the weight of his presence behind her, his breath brushing against her neck, as he stood close enough to make her skin tingle with a strange combination of dread and anticipation.

“Spencer…” She whispered, more to herself than to him, the words barely escaping her lips. Her mind was spinning, trying to make sense of everything. She wasn’t sure if she was afraid, or if curiosity was beginning to outweigh the fear.

He was so close now, she could feel his fingers brush the fabric of her shirt, his touch sending a jolt of heat across her skin. His hand snaked around her from behind, settling at the opposite side of her waist. The touch was firm and possessive, and as he pulled her just a little closer, she felt a surge of heat flood her body despite herself. He was patient, letting the moment simmer, his other hand resting lightly on her shoulder as if giving her time to process.

"I understand it’s a lot to take in, but one night is all I’m asking," he murmured, his voice low, almost coaxing. There was an undeniable edge to it now—a darker, rawer version of him she hadn’t known existed. The boy who had always been awkward, and uncertain, was gone, replaced by someone much more confident, much more determined to get what he wanted.

His words made her heart beat faster, but the undertone of desperation—the need in his voice—sent a shiver down her spine. She could see it in his eyes now. He wasn’t just asking. He was pleading for release, and it was clear that he wanted her to be the one to give it to him.

“We don’t even have to do anything, just let me give you a test run.” He spoke with a growl that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. The room was heavy with tension, and she could feel herself beginning to crack under the weight of it.

Her mouth went dry as she tried to process his words, her mind racing for a response. “A test run?” she echoed, her voice barely audible, still stunned by the shift in their dynamic. Her eyes darted nervously over the room again, the chains hanging from the walls, the whips draped over chairs as if all of it were daring her to make a decision.

The silence between them stretched, and still, neither of them looked at each other. Spencer knew better than to press her immediately, but his presence was undeniable. He was waiting, and though she felt that familiar sense of control over herself slipping away, she was too caught up in the moment to make a move just yet.

Her breath hitched as she felt the undeniable pull of the man behind her—no longer the shy, reserved Spencer, but something darker, something that called to a part of her she’d never fully acknowledged. Something she couldn’t resist.

Her mind was spinning, the tension in the air thick enough to cut with a knife. Spencer’s words hung between them, heavy and deliberate, his tone steady, but there was a hidden hunger underneath it, something primal. He wasn’t asking anymore; he was offering something—daring her to accept, to take a step into a world she had only seen glimpses of, a world she wasn’t sure she was ready to enter.

She looked at him, his features sharp in the dim light, his posture exuding confidence, like a predator who had set its sights on its prey. Spencer Reid, the brilliant, often timid genius of the FBI, had always been a puzzle to her, but now, standing in front of her with that cold certainty in his eyes, he was a puzzle she wasn’t sure she wanted to solve.

“We’ll do something light for tonight,” Spencer continued, his voice unwavering, almost as if he were reading a script. “If it’s something you’re not interested in, we’ll never speak of it again. But if it is something you want…” He trailed off, leaving the rest unspoken, knowing the weight of it hung in the balance.

The offer, the challenge, the invitation—it was too much for her to process at the moment. She wasn’t naïve, she knew what he was asking, what he was proposing. Spencer had always been a curious soul, someone who explored the depths of the human mind, but this was different. This wasn’t a case to crack open, a mystery to be solved with intellect. This was something visceral, something rooted in control and power, and she was the one he wanted to bend.

Her brow furrowed as she tried to wrap her head around it. Spencer was brilliant, yes, but he was also deeply sensitive, a man who had been through so much, and who had struggled with his own demons. How could he possibly want her, of all people, to be the one he could dominate?

She couldn’t help herself. “But why me?” Her voice cracked slightly, caught between disbelief and a tinge of hurt. “You know me. I’m not the one you want to be your submissive. I’m the complete opposite.”

She could feel the heat of the room pressing in on her, the walls lined with tools and items meant for pleasure, for control. But none of them made sense to her. They felt foreign. She was a woman who took charge, who fought for what she wanted, a woman who refused to bend to anyone's will.

Spencer’s gaze didn’t falter. He understood her hesitation, but it didn’t make him waver. In fact, the challenge only fueled his desire.

“I know you’re strong-willed,” he said, his voice low, almost a whisper against the backdrop of her doubts. “That’s exactly why I want you. I’ve had plenty of submissives before, but they were always too easy, too willing to give up control. I want you because you’re different. I want to break through that hardness, make you see things from my side.”

His words hit her like a wave, and despite herself, she felt a strange shiver of anticipation. The thought of submitting to him, of allowing him to have control, was so foreign, so against everything she had known about herself. She was passionate and forceful, a woman who never let anyone hold power over her. But there was something about the way he spoke, the unrelenting force in his words, that made her question everything.

“I want a challenge,” he continued, almost as if he could read her mind. “I want a submissive who doesn’t make it easy for me. I want the fire, the resistance. The satisfaction of breaking down those walls. The pleasure is in the struggle. In bending you, forcing you to surrender just a little of that control.”

She swallowed hard, her heart pounding. She knew Spencer—knew the parts of him that others didn’t. But this side of him? This darker, more dangerous side that wanted to claim her, to make her submit… it was something she hadn’t seen coming.

“You want to break me?” She scoffed, trying to muster some strength, but her voice faltered, betraying the crack in her armor. “I’m not some project for you to fix or control, Spencer.”

He stepped closer, not breaking eye contact, his presence overwhelming. “No,” he murmured, his voice almost tender despite the command in it. “Not to fix. To free you. You’re just as much in control of this as I am. But I’m not going to let you hide from what you really want, from what we could be.”

The air between them was charged now, the boundary between challenge and desire blurred. Her pulse raced, and even though part of her was telling her to walk away, another part—one that she hadn’t acknowledged before—was intrigued, fascinated by what he was offering.

Spencer’s smirk was soft but knowing as if he had already won, as if he was certain that, in time, he would break through to her. His words weren’t just an invitation; they were a promise.

And for the first time, (Y/N) wasn’t sure if she was ready to walk away.

“Just try, for me,” Spencer murmured, his lips brushing against her ear, his voice low and commanding. He pulled back with a lingering look, walking toward the plush red velvet chair. He eased into it with an air of deliberate confidence, stretching out as he sat, his legs parted just enough to make his intention clear. The subtle yet calculated display was meant to unnerve her, to draw her in, and it was working.

(Y/N)’s gaze faltered before inevitably settling on him. How could she not? Every move he made seemed to be a challenge, a dare meant to test her resolve. Her pulse quickened, the crimson glow of the room amplifying the heat already building in her chest. He was playing a game she wasn’t sure she knew the rules to—but she couldn’t deny how much she wanted to play.

“Take off your top,” Spencer commanded his tone firm but not harsh, cutting through the thick tension in the room. The words hung in the air like a tangible weight, their presence making her heart race. She hesitated, her hands trembling slightly as they hovered near the hem of her shirt. The space between them seemed to shrink as his voice softened, yet grew more intoxicating. “Slowly, (Y/N). Play with me a little.”

Her breath hitched, the words wrapping around her like silk, pulling her deeper into his control. She couldn’t help the small smile tugging at the corners of her lips, her nervousness melding with a flicker of boldness. If this was a game, maybe it was time to stop being afraid of losing.

Her fingers trembled as they softly grasped the hem of her shirt, toying with the fabric as though deciding whether to commit to the moment. Slowly, she began lifting it, teasingly revealing the soft curve of her stomach, inch by deliberate inch. The fabric slid higher, grazing her skin, until it passed over her chest and finally slipped free of her head. The shirt fluttered to the floor at her feet, abandoned yet heavy with the weight of what it represented.

She could feel his gaze on her, hotter than any spotlight, tracing every contour of her body with an intensity that made her stomach churn. Spencer didn’t need to move, didn’t need to say a word—his eyes alone held her captive. Shame bubbled in her chest, threatening to spill over as she wrapped her arms around herself instinctively, fighting the urge to cover what she’d just exposed. Her head dipped low, too afraid to meet his eyes.

“You’re gorgeous.” His voice was gentle but unwavering, carrying a reassurance that seemed to cut through her self-doubt. She risked a glance up, her breath catching at the warmth in his expression. He wasn’t mocking her, wasn’t scrutinizing—he was admiring, revering her in a way she hadn’t expected.

“You’re doing so well,” he added softly, his tone both a compliment and an encouragement. But then, he leaned forward slightly, his elbows resting on his knees, and his next words were lower, more intimate, pulling her further into his world.

“Do you trust me?”

The question hung in the air, a fragile thread between them. Her heart hammered in her chest, her body torn between the vulnerability of her situation and the strange, undeniable comfort his voice offered.

She gave him a soft nod, her movements tentative, barely perceptible. Her vulnerability was written across her face, her uncertainty etched into the way her hands lingered at her sides as if still debating whether to shield herself. But that wasn’t enough for Spencer.

“I need verbal confirmation, (Y/N),” he pressed, his voice calm yet firm, each word carefully measured. His gaze didn’t waver, steady and unrelenting, like a lighthouse cutting through the fog of her doubt.

Her breath caught in her throat, and she hesitated, the weight of his demand bearing down on her like a physical force. Her lips parted, but no sound came at first—just a shaky exhale. His head tilted slightly, his patience an unspoken challenge, silently urging her to cross the threshold.

“Yes,” she finally stammered, her voice trembling with a mix of apprehension and resolve. “Yes, I trust you.”

The words came out louder than she intended, almost like a yelp, as though speaking them had taken more courage than she thought she possessed. Her cheeks flushed instantly, the warmth spreading down her neck.

Spencer’s lips curved into the faintest smile, his expression softening. The tension in the room shifted, not lessened but transformed—where once there had been uncertainty, now there was something unspoken yet undeniable: her surrender, her choice.

“Good,” he murmured, his voice a low, velvety hum as he leaned back in the chair, savoring the moment like a victory he’d been patiently awaiting. Then, with deliberate ease, he rose to his feet, his movements measured and purposeful, each step echoing faintly against the room’s silence.

Spencer approached her, his hand finding the small of her waist, the touch firm yet oddly reassuring. He guided her gently but unyieldingly toward a ring mounted to the ceiling. Her pulse quickened as she followed his lead, her eyes darting nervously between him and the strange, ominous apparatus.

His hand never left her waist as he reached up, his other arm brushing against her as he brought the cuffs down to her height. The metallic clink of the chain echoed softly in the space, and her breath hitched when he lowered them to dangle just above her reach.

“You want me in those?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, the tremor betraying the fear laced in her question. The vulnerability in her tone was unmistakable. She glanced at the cuffs, then back at him, her mind a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts. Every fiber of her being told her to run, to escape the unknown. Yet something else—something she couldn’t explain—anchored her in place. Curiosity, perhaps. Or the magnetic pull of his presence.

Spencer tilted his head slightly, his darkened eyes meeting hers with an intensity that made her stomach flip. He could see it all: the hesitation, the conflict, the desperate tug-of-war inside her. And he could see something else, too—that faint flicker of desire she was too scared to voice.

“Yes,” he answered finally, his tone steady but softened by a hint of reassurance. “You’ll have a safe word. If you use it, I promise I’ll stop immediately. No questions asked.”

His words were firm yet kind, grounding her in the moment. For a fleeting second, she almost believed that he could see straight through her fears and into the part of her that wanted to trust him, wanted to let go.

“You’ll be safe,” he added, his voice dipping lower, the sincerity in it undeniable. “I’ll make sure of it.”

She swallowed hard, her gaze flicking back to the cuffs. The urge to flee still clawed at her, but so did the pull to stay. As the silence stretched between them, she realized that it wasn’t just the situation that kept her rooted—it was him.

She hesitated, her breath shallow as she wrestled with the decision swirling in her mind. Finally, with a slow exhale, she raised her hands above her head, her fingers trembling slightly as they brushed the cuffs that dangled just out of reach. It was a gesture of tentative surrender, a signal that she was ready—or at least, willing—to take this step.

But Spencer wasn’t done with her yet. He wanted more, needed more. The dominance he had craved for so long wouldn’t be satisfied by half-measures.

“Take off your bra,” he instructed, his voice low but commanding, the words settling over her like a velvet chain. He stepped closer, his towering presence casting a shadow that seemed to engulf her. The way he looked at her, with that quiet, unyielding intensity, made it clear—this wasn’t a request.

Her eyes widened as his demand sank in, the weight of it making her heart race. “I thought this was supposed to be a test run,” she managed to say, her voice shaky and uncertain, her gaze darting between him and the cuffs above her.

Spencer’s lips curved into a faint, knowing smile, his eyes dark with purpose. “How will we know if you like it or not,” he replied smoothly, his tone carrying a hint of teasing, “if you don’t show some skin?”

The words hung in the air, both a challenge and a justification. He wasn’t just pushing her boundaries; he was coaxing her toward something she hadn’t fully admitted to herself that she wanted.

She swallowed hard, her thoughts a whirlwind of anticipation and nerves. Deep down, she knew this was coming. She’d known from the moment she stepped into his suite that her imagination—the fantasies she’d entertained but never dared voice—was inching closer to becoming reality.

But knowing it didn’t make it any easier.

Her hands drifted downward, brushing against the clasp of her bra as her breathing quickened. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from him, his gaze like a magnet, pulling her in even as her mind screamed at her to stop. There was no turning back now; the pull was too strong. 

In that moment, she let go—let go of the armor she wore so tightly, the hard and unyielding persona that shielded her from vulnerability. She surrendered it all to Spencer, letting him strip away the control she clung to so desperately. Deep down, she knew she could trust him. The knowledge that he would stop the moment she uttered her safe word was her anchor, the thread that allowed her to take the plunge.

With trembling fingers, she unclasped her bra, the fabric loosening its hold on her body. Gravity took over as it slipped from her shoulders, fluttering softly to the floor between them, pooling at their feet like a quiet surrender. Her chest rose and fell in shallow breaths, the cool air grazing her bare skin, sending a shiver racing down her spine.

Instinctively, she wanted to shield herself, her arms twitching as if to fold over her chest. But she resisted. Instead, she lifted her chin and kept her gaze locked with Spencer’s, refusing to break the connection. His eyes were steady, dark pools of intensity that seemed to swallow her whole. They didn’t stray—not even for a second—to her newly exposed form. He stayed focused on her, his stare grounding her, holding her in place.

Her vulnerability hung heavy in the air between them, but his expression wasn’t one of judgment. It was something deeper—reverence, maybe, or an almost predatory satisfaction at her willingness to give herself to him. The heat in his gaze burned away the edges of her lingering shame, replacing it with a strange, electrifying mix of fear and exhilaration.

Slowly, she raised her arms above her head, her movements deliberate, her breaths shaky but resolute. The cold metal of the cuffs grazed her wrists, the chill jolting her skin as she settled them in place. Her fingers curled slightly, her body tensing with anticipation as she waited for Spencer to lock her into place.

Time seemed to stretch as she stood there, exposed and open, the chains rattling faintly with her unsteady breaths. Yet, despite the vulnerability of the moment, she felt an unexpected calm settle over her. She had let go. The control was no longer hers, and somehow, that made her feel free.

Spencer’s hands moved deliberately, reaching above her head to secure her wrists in the waiting cuffs. The faint metallic click echoed in the stillness as he locked her first hand into place, his movements measured and precise. Her breathing hitched when he reached for the second cuff, the soft brush of his fingers against her skin sending a shiver racing through her.

“Is that too tight?” he asked, his voice a gentle murmur, grounding her in the moment.

She gave an experimental tug on her restraints, testing the give of the chains, the slight pull on her wrists making her hyperaware of her position. The cold metal pressed firmly against her skin, but it didn’t hurt—at least, not yet.

“My left one feels a little too loose,” she admitted softly, her voice tinged with both vulnerability and trust.

Spencer nodded, his expression shifting into one of careful focus. He adjusted the left cuff with precision, tightening it just enough to hold her securely but not uncomfortably. His touch was gentle, almost reverent, as though he understood the weight of her trust and carried it with care.

“Try that,” he said, stepping back slightly to give her room to test the adjustment.

She pulled again, her wrists shifting slightly in the cuffs, the sensation strange but not unpleasant. “That’s good,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, yet the words carried a finality that made her pulse quicken.

Spencer’s lips curved into a faint smile, his eyes darkening with intent. The moment hung between them, heavy with anticipation, as the last barrier between her and his desires dissolved. She was bound now, completely at his mercy, and the realization sent a thrill through her that she couldn’t quite name.

He stepped closer, his presence commanding, yet his movements were unhurried, savoring her surrender. She felt the heat of his body near hers, the air crackling with a tension that made her stomach twist in a dizzying blend of nerves and excitement.

“You’re perfect like this,” he murmured, his voice a low rasp that made her knees feel weak. But there was an edge to his tone, a promise of what was to come.

She knew now there was nothing stopping him, nothing holding him back from taking what he wanted—and, as much as it terrified her, she realized she didn’t want to stop him either.

“This will be the only time I give you a choice in what we do,” Spencer began, his voice soft yet unwavering, the firmness in his tone underscoring his sincerity. “Would you like to try a blindfold as well?”

He spoke with an unusual gentleness, a kind of care he rarely extended to anyone in his role as a dominant. But with (Y/N), it was different. She wasn’t like the others who had stepped into his domain, already accustomed to giving up control. This was her first time, her first step into uncharted territory, and he felt an overwhelming need to ensure she felt safe every moment of the way.

As soon as the words left his mouth, he saw the flicker of panic in her eyes. It was subtle but unmistakable—the way her body stiffened slightly, the way her lips pressed together as if to hold back the truth. Spencer didn’t need her to say it aloud; the answer was written all over her face.

He knew it would be a no, and yet it wasn’t a simple refusal. It was a no that carried a weight, one wrapped in a quiet fear of disappointing him. The realization sent a pang through him, a reminder of how much trust she had placed in him and how fragile that trust was.

“It’s your decision,” he said softly, stepping closer, his tone warm and reassuring. “Whatever it is, it will never disappoint me.”

The sincerity in his voice seemed to settle over her like a calming blanket. Still, she couldn’t meet his gaze. Instead, her eyes dropped to the floor, focusing on their feet—the stark contrast between her bare toes and the polished leather of his tuxedo shoes. The image felt oddly symbolic to her: vulnerable and exposed next to his commanding presence.

Her breath wavered as she shook her head, the gesture small and hesitant. She forced herself to speak, her voice trembling but audible. “No,” she said, her tone heavy with a mix of shame and relief, as though the simple act of voicing her refusal felt like an act of rebellion against her own self-doubt.

Spencer tilted his head slightly, studying her with those sharp, thoughtful eyes. “Thank you for telling me,” he said gently, his lips curling into a faint, approving smile. “You don’t need to feel ashamed for setting a boundary. That’s exactly what I want you to do.”

Her shoulders eased slightly at his words, her breathing evening out. At that moment, she realized that he wasn’t disappointed—far from it. If anything, he seemed pleased that she had trusted him enough to speak her mind.

Spencer reached up, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face with a touch so tender it made her heartache. “You’re doing perfectly,” he murmured, his voice like a balm against her lingering doubts. “This is about you, not me. Always.”

And for the first time since she’d stepped into this world of uncharted sensations, she began to believe it.

Spencer’s fingers moved deliberately, brushing lightly against the curve of her hip. His touch was soft, almost featherlike, the kind of teasing that sent shivers skittering across her skin. He wasn’t rushing; this was about exploration, about seeing how her body reacted to him, how far she would let herself go.

Her breath hitched, and a quiet, involuntary giggle slipped past her lips. “That tickles,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, tinged with both embarrassment and restraint. She didn’t want to pull away, didn’t want to break the moment or risk displeasing him. But her body betrayed her, shifting slightly out of instinct, as if it had a mind of its own.

Spencer’s hand stilled for a moment, and then he withdrew, his touch trailing away from her hip. Her heart sank at the loss, but before she could fully register the absence, his fingers were under her chin, tilting her face upward.

The movement was firm yet careful, guiding her gaze to meet his. His eyes locked onto hers with an intensity that made her stomach twist and her knees feel weak. There was no need for him to speak; the demand in his expression was unmistakable.

She swallowed hard, the air between them thick with unspoken tension. Somehow, she already knew what he wanted, what he was waiting for. Her voice came out as a breathy whisper, soft but resolute. “Yes, you can touch me.”

Her words hung in the air like a confession, and Spencer’s lips curled into the faintest of smiles, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. It wasn’t a grin of triumph but of satisfaction—a confirmation that she was willing to give herself to him, step by step, in her own time.

He leaned in slightly, his hand still resting lightly under her chin, his thumb brushing against her jaw. “Good girl,” he murmured, his voice low and smooth, a reward in itself. The praise sent warmth flooding through her, melting away the last of her hesitation.

Spencer’s hand moved again, slow and deliberate, tracing her skin with the kind of care that left no doubt—this wasn’t just about control. It was about connection, about her trusting him enough to let him take the lead.

Spencer moved slowly, his touch deliberate and teasing, each contact designed to heighten the ache, the need growing in both of them. He knew how badly she wanted him to touch her, how much she would beg for it if he pushed her to that point. And yet, he was patient, letting the anticipation simmer, knowing that the slow build-up would make the moment more intense when it finally arrived.

He started at her cuffed wrists, his fingers trailing softly over the restraints. His touch was tender at first as if savoring the sensation of her restrained form. Slowly, his hands moved lower, tracing the line of her forearm, and the soft skin of her upper arm, each motion lingering longer than necessary. The gentle caress was almost maddening—he could feel the tension in her body, how her muscles tightened, waiting for the next move.

When his fingers reached her shoulder, he paused, deliberately drawing out the moment. Her breath hitched in anticipation, her body tensing as she prepared herself for the next step, expecting him to move downward, to give her the relief she craved. But Spencer, ever the tease, left her waiting. He chose to wait just a little longer, knowing that the suspense would make her feel every second of it.

Instead, his fingers danced across her shoulder, up her neck, tracing the curve with a soft, almost reverent touch. Her skin shivered under his fingertips as his hand moved slowly to her face, cupping her chin gently but with authority, guiding her to meet his gaze.

His eyes were dark, almost cold, as he took her in. He studied her carefully, noting the way the microfit shorts clung to her body, and how they outlined the contours of her hips and thighs. He could see the way her breasts stood out, her nipples hard against the chill of the room, a soft flush of color on her skin. Her stomach, ever so slightly bloated from the meal earlier, gave her an endearing vulnerability that only added to the beauty of the moment.

She was perfect to him. Every detail, every inch of her body, was etched into his mind. And as he looked at her, he couldn’t help but wish that she could see herself the way he saw her—vulnerable, beautiful, and entirely his in this moment.

The silence between them stretched, thick with desire and the tension of what was to come. Spencer’s fingers lingered on her face, tracing her jawline, his thumb lightly brushing her lips. He didn’t need to say anything. His touch spoke volumes—he knew she was waiting for him to give her what she needed. But for now, he wanted to make her wait just a little longer, drawing out the ache until she couldn’t take it anymore. 

As Spencer’s thumb grazed across her lips, a gentle shudder ran through her body. She couldn’t help herself, the desire bubbling up inside her, compelling her to lean forward and softly kiss the pad of his thumb. She longed for more—wanted to kiss him fully—but the cuffs that bound her to the ceiling kept her restrained, her arms stretched above her head, leaving her helpless in the moment. Still, the kiss she gave him, so subtle, was enough to send a shiver of satisfaction down Spencer’s spine. It was a silent reassurance to him, a sign that she trusted him completely, even in this position.

“Tell me what you want, Darling,” Spencer’s voice broke the silence, low and commanding, yet there was a softness to it that matched his intent. He wanted her to be brave enough to voice her desires, to speak up if she needed something, to never feel as though she couldn’t communicate with him.

Her breath caught as she swallowed, taking in the weight of his words. There was no hesitation now, only the quiet realization of how far she had come in this moment. “A kiss? Please,” she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. She reminded herself of the rules she had read about submissives—about the importance of politeness, of asking for what they wanted with respect.

Spencer smirked, amused and pleased by her request, the politeness of her words making the moment all the more enticing. He moved toward her, bending down to her height with a teasing, almost taunting air. The position she was in—her arms bound to the ceiling, her feet barely able to touch the ground—made her feel both vulnerable and desperate for him. She had to balance precariously on her toes, her body trembling from the strain as she waited for him to make his next move.

When he leaned in, his lips capturing hers with an intensity that sent a rush of heat through her, she melted into the kiss. It was deep and consuming, full of longing, with a quiet urgency. She didn’t want it to end. She couldn’t. Her body responded before her mind could catch up, and her hands instinctively reached for the chain of her cuffs, her fingers gripping it tightly to ease the strain on her arms. The discomfort was sharp, but she pushed through it, lifting herself slightly off the ground. As her legs wrapped around Spencer’s muscled waist, she pressed herself against him, a quiet plea in her actions.

But Spencer was not so easily swayed. He pulled away, his lips lingering just out of reach. “Ah uh. Good girls don’t misbehave,” he murmured, his voice low but firm. The smirk on his lips deepened as he felt her thighs wrap around him, trapping him in place, her body pressing against his with a force that betrayed her desperation.

His hands moved to her hips, steadying her as her legs held him in place. He could feel her warmth through their clothes, the way her breath quickened with need, and it made him pause, letting the silence between them stretch. He could feel her pulse racing beneath his touch, her every reaction amplifying the tension in the room.

For a moment, Spencer basked in the control he held over her, the way her body clung to him so desperately, her breath shallow and uneven as if she couldn’t bear to let go. His dark eyes lingered on her face, taking in every flicker of emotion—the need, the vulnerability, the surrender. She was entirely at his mercy, and he reveled in it.

But then, with deliberate care, he reached down, his strong hands firmly but gently prying her legs apart. His touch was commanding, yet never harsh, guiding her movements as he unhooked her feet from around his waist. Her thighs trembled as they released their grip, the strain and tension of holding herself up now giving way to his control.

As her feet found the ground again, Spencer softened, ensuring she landed with grace rather than force. His hands remained steady at her hips, holding her in place as her weight shifted, grounding her. The contrast between his earlier teasing dominance and the tender way he lowered her back down was enough to send a fresh wave of heat through her body.

“There we go,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing, a faint hint of amusement tugging at the corners of his lips. He lingered close, his presence still overwhelming, his hands resting on her hips for a moment longer before finally releasing her. The intimacy of the moment was undeniable—every movement calculated, every gesture leaving her yearning for what he might do next.

Spencer straightened, his eyes never leaving hers, as if daring her to test him again, to see how far he’d let her go before taking back the control she had so briefly attempted to seize.

 “You need to be punished,” Spencer said, his voice low and eerie, carrying a dark promise that sent a chill down her spine. Slowly, deliberately, he turned away from her, leaving her bound and vulnerable as he walked toward the imposing wall of floggers and tools. The soft rustle of his footsteps on the floor seemed deafening in the heavy silence of the room.

Her heart pounded as she watched him run his fingers along the neatly arranged implements, his touch dragging across the leather strands and polished handles. Each one swayed slightly at the friction of his movements, the gentle creak of leather making the air feel electric. Spencer cast a quick glance over his shoulder, his eyes gleaming with mischief, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Which one should I use?” he mused aloud, more to himself than her, the teasing in his tone unmistakable. His fingers hovered over one flogger before moving to another, keeping her guessing, keeping her on edge. The deliberate slowness of his movements was maddening, a calculated way to build her anticipation—or her dread.

Finally, he stopped, his hand resting on a flogger with sleek black leather strands and a braided handle that looked almost elegant in its design. His fingers curled around it as he pulled it from the wall, his eyes flicking back to her. The way he studied her, the intensity in his gaze, made her stomach churn with a mixture of fear and something else she couldn’t quite name.

Her breath quickened, her chest rising and falling as she tried to steady herself. Deep down, she knew Spencer wouldn’t actually use it on her tonight. He wouldn’t push her that far, not on her first time in the red room. But in that moment, her logical mind gave way to raw emotion—fear and uncertainty clawing their way to the surface.

“Yellow!” she blurted out, her voice trembling as panic took over. The safe word slipped past her lips instinctively, a desperate plea for him to stop. She tugged against the cuffs in a frantic, almost futile attempt to ground herself, her mind racing as she tried to ease the discomfort that had taken hold of her.

Spencer froze instantly, his entire demeanor shifting. The teasing smirk disappeared from his face as he set the flogger down on a nearby table with a quiet thud. Without hesitation, he turned back to her, closing the distance between them in a few quick, purposeful strides.

“Shh, it’s okay,” he said softly, his voice now warm and steady, a sharp contrast to the dark playfulness from moments ago. He cupped her face gently in his hands, his thumbs brushing soothing circles over her cheeks as he tilted her chin up to meet his gaze.

“You’re alright,” Spencer murmured, his eyes softening as he searched hers, his concern evident. “I’ve got you. I’m not going to use it, I promise.”

Leaning in, he pressed a tender kiss to the tip of her nose, the gesture so gentle and intimate that it made her heart ache. His touch, his voice, everything about him in that moment was designed to bring her back to a place of safety and trust.

“You did exactly what you were supposed to,” he reassured her, his voice calm and soothing. “You told me how you felt, and that’s all I’ll ever ask of you. You’re safe with me.”

Spencer stayed close, his hands never leaving her face as he waited for her breathing to slow, for the tension in her body to ease. And when it did, when her eyes finally met his with a glimmer of trust, he smiled softly. The flogger was forgotten, left behind on the wall as Spencer refocused all his attention on her.

“I just want to be touched by you tonight, please,” she murmured, her voice trembling and fragile. She knew how it sounded—pathetic, almost desperate, as if she were bargaining with a man who held all the power, especially here in his sanctuary, his carefully curated pleasure room. But wasn’t that what he wanted? For her to speak her desires, to get comfortable expressing herself in this space without fear of judgment?

Spencer’s eyes darkened at her plea, but his expression softened. “I can make that happen,” he said, his voice deep and soothing, a promise laced in every word. His fingers moved with practiced precision, brushing lightly against the waistband of her black fitness shorts. He didn’t rush, didn’t assume. He lingered there, his fingers barely dipping beneath the fabric, waiting—no, insisting—that she give him permission to continue.

“Yes,” she breathed, the word escaping her lips in a soft, almost inaudible whisper.

Spencer’s lips curved into the faintest of smiles before he sank to his knees before her, moving with deliberate grace. From her vantage point, cuffed and bound, the sight of him kneeling was intoxicating, his presence commanding even as he took a submissive position at her feet. His hands rested gently on her hips, and then he leaned in, pressing a soft, reverent kiss to her slightly bloated stomach.

Her breath hitched, the tenderness of the gesture catching her off guard. Slowly, Spencer hooked his fingers under the waistband of her shorts, dragging them down inch by excruciating inch. He took his time, letting the cool air brush against her exposed skin, adding to the anticipation. When the fabric finally pooled at her ankles, he left her standing there in nothing but her underwear, vulnerable and exposed.

But Spencer didn’t rush to the end goal. Instead, he moved with agonizing slowness, lowering his head further as his lips ghosted over the curve of her knee. His kisses trailed upward, soft and teasing, his warm breath brushing her skin as he made his way to her inner thigh. Each kiss lingered, igniting a spark that spread through her body like wildfire.

Her body betrayed her, straining against the cuffs, her hips shifting slightly as if to draw him closer. The chains rattled softly, her quiet plea for more unmistakable. Spencer noticed, of course—he noticed everything.

When his lips reached the sensitive skin just below her hipbone, he paused, pressing a lingering kiss to her lower abdomen, dangerously close to the edge of her underwear. Her breathing was ragged, her chest rising and falling as the tension built.

“You can take them off,” she whispered, the words spilling out before she could stop them. She thought that was what he wanted, thought that her compliance would please him.

But Spencer only chuckled softly, the sound low and rich, sending another shiver through her body. His lips curled into a smirk as he tilted his head to look up at her, his dark eyes locking with hers.

“No,” he said firmly, his voice a mix of authority and amusement. “I want you like this.”

The statement hung in the air between them, final and undeniable. It wasn’t about rushing to undress her fully—it was about savoring the moment, the anticipation, the power exchange. And in that moment, she realized that Spencer wanted her exactly as she was: bound, vulnerable, and entirely his.

As Spencer rose from his kneeling position, his hands moved with purpose. One cupped her breast, his palm warm and firm against her soft skin, while the other snaked around her waist, pulling her closer and keeping her from shifting under his touch. His fingers worked skillfully, kneading her breast with just the right pressure, his thumb brushing over her nipple in deliberate, teasing strokes. Every so often, he pinched the hardened peak, eliciting sharp gasps and soft whimpers that fueled his own satisfaction.

His other hand began its slow descent, gliding down her waist, pausing briefly to caress the curve of her hip before finally settling on the fabric covering her aching core. Spencer’s movements were slow and deliberate, his thumb pressing against her clothed clit in slow, torturous circles, testing her response.

The moment his touch found the perfect rhythm, (Y/N) couldn’t help herself. Her head fell back, her lips parted in a shaky exhale as waves of pleasure rippled through her. Her body strained against the cuffs, her wrists aching to be free so she could touch him, pull him closer, beg for more.

“Spence, please…” she whispered, her voice soft and pleading, tugging futilely on the chains above her head. “Keep going.”

Her desperation sent a thrill through Spencer, a wicked smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. He knew she wasn’t in any position to demand, but something about the way she begged him stirred a dark satisfaction deep within him. His fingers continued their torment, experimenting with pressure and motion, coaxing whimpers and moans from her that only grew louder with each pass of his thumb.

But just as she began to lose herself, Spencer’s hand abruptly left her throbbing clit, the absence of his touch almost painful in its suddenness. Her whine of protest was cut short as he swiftly clamped his hand over her mouth, his eyes dark and commanding as they locked with hers.

“Be quiet,” he growled, his voice low and rough, a sharp contrast to the gentle way he’d been touching her moments before.

His dominance was unyielding, and it left her breathless. She nodded faintly against his hand, her wide eyes filled with both submission and unspoken desire. Spencer’s smirk deepened, satisfied with her obedience.

Without another word, he shifted his stance, lifting one knee between her legs. The movement was deliberate, his thigh pressing against her clothed core as he resumed the rhythm she craved. He applied just enough pressure to drive her wild, the fabric of her underwear adding a delicious friction as he moved his leg.

Pinned between the unyielding cuffs above her and Spencer’s strong, unrelenting presence, (Y/N) had no choice but to give in completely. Her muffled moans against his hand were filled with a mix of frustration and pleasure, her body trembling under his control.

Spencer leaned in close, his lips brushing her ear as he whispered, “You don’t get to dictate how this goes. I decide when and how you get what you want.”

The words sent a shiver down her spine, and she realized with every passing second just how thoroughly he intended to own her tonight.

She was teetering on the edge, her body trembling as waves of pleasure built with every calculated movement Spencer made. His knee continued its agonizingly slow, circular motions against her clothed clit, and the dual sensations of his hand teasing her sensitive nipples and his other muffling her soft moans were driving her mad. Her breaths came in short, erratic gasps as her release approached, her body betraying her desperation to finally let go.

“Are you going to cum for me, sweet girl?” Spencer murmured into her ear, his voice low and smooth, sending a fresh surge of heat coursing through her. As he spoke, his lips brushed along her jawline, placing soft, deliberate kisses that only heightened her arousal.

The pet name unraveled her completely. Her head fell back, a muffled cry escaping against his hand as her body arched into him. Gathering herself, she tilted her head forward again, locking eyes with him. Her gaze was pleading, her response a breathless, trembling, “Mmhm.”

Her release was seconds away, her body tightening in anticipation. But just as she was about to tumble over the edge, the unmistakable sound of his apartment door opening shattered the moment.

“Spencer! Henry’s here for your sleepover tonight!” JJ’s cheerful voice rang out from the front of the apartment, oblivious to the scene she had interrupted.

Panic shot through both of them. Spencer froze for a split second, his hands and knee pulling away from her in one fluid motion. The sudden absence of his touch left her aching and unfulfilled, her body still straining against the cuffs in frustration. Their eyes met, wide and panicked, as reality crashed down on them.

“Spencer!” she whispered harshly, her voice low and urgent. “Don’t leave me like this!”

But Spencer, acting on instinct and clearly rattled by JJ’s unexpected arrival, turned away without a word. He moved quickly toward the door, leaving her suspended, nearly naked, and vulnerable. The lock clicked as he exited the red room, sealing her inside.

Her heart pounded, a mix of humiliation, disbelief, and residual arousal swirling in her mind. “Spencer!” she whisper-yelled again, tugging futilely at the cuffs. She tried to free herself, twisting and pulling, but the restraints held firm.

Panic bubbled up inside her as she realized the absurdity of her predicament. Left hanging in the red room, her body exposed save for her panties, she cursed herself for insisting earlier that the cuffs be tightened.

She squirmed in frustration, her cheeks burning with a mix of embarrassment and anger. The sound of distant voices from the other room filtered through the walls, a constant reminder of her helplessness.

Her mind raced as she considered her options—or rather, the lack of them. There was nothing to do but wait, stuck in this mortifying position, and hope Spencer would come to his senses and return before JJ—or worse, Henry—wandered too far into the apartment.

Thank you for reading!

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[persicipen]

₊ ˙ ⊹ . 𝓖𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝓑𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒉𝒅𝒂𝒚 𝓑𝒐𝒚. WRIOTHESLEY ₊ ˙ ⊹ .

ৎ୭ — · · 1.4k ノ gn reader — sweet intimate celebration of his birthday. subtle flirting (a failed attempt at doing so). established relationship. comforting fluff with hugs and giggles <3

The atmosphere in the Duke’s office is rather light-hearted and joyful, unlike the usual stern reputation of the Fortress. The steady hum of machinery beyond the thick walls buzzes along with the quiet crackle of a small, ornate heater placed in the corner — a luxury in the underwater prison.

The tea table is neatly set, the gleaming silver teapot releasing curling wisps of steam into the air, mingling with the earthy, spiced aroma of Chenyu Adeptea — a new blend being a part of your gift. Though muted in tone, you two celebrate this day with the gentle clink of porcelain teacups and muffled laughter. The sharp tang of the sea breeze and metallic rust replaced with a delicate sweetness that hints at the rare delight.

“Mittens, huh?”

It’s the low timbre of Wriothesley’s voice that breaks temporary silence, testing out the lovely other part of your gift, fingers examining the texture. He takes his time making sure they fit snugly, the pair of fine-woven mittens. Albeit he couldn’t care less about how they look.

“Well, it’s cold here in the Fortress, and the humidity makes it unbearable sometimes…”

“I will make great punches in these.” He says with a note of chuckle at the end, all while testing his grip in the fluffy covers on his hands. “Look at them, my new gloves to punish lawbreakers!”

The very image of Wriothesley imitating boxing punches with the fists wrapped in the softest of fabrics makes you giggle loud. Loud and clear, a sound he adores so much when it reverberates from the stone walls and metal pipes like delicate chimes in the wind. The sound he misses every single minute when you have to return above the sea waves.

His place has never felt this warm before, with the candles flickering on the curved desk, the tea table heavy from the gifts from the staff, and — last but not least — his heart is about to melt, a glowing cauldron of fondness for you. You are simply there, smiling back at him, raising the teacup in a silent toast for his birthday.

For someone who took this post in selfless service to the people and their safety, the fact that they all care so much — but none as much as you — makes him want to serve them twice as much. Maybe working in the Fortress, in this new home of his, isn’t that bad after all. No, not in the slightest. No worse than if he were to restart his entire life on the surface, in the society he doesn’t remember from his early years.

“Do you like them?”

You seem to notice the pause, the thoughtful gaze he shoots at the pair of mittens on his knuckles.

“A lot.” He responds softly, rubbing his thumb against the soft fabric. “They will serve me well.”

Butterflies dance in your stomach with each passing moment of admiring the way his hands seem so much more gentle than they appear to be, the touch not as hard and coarse as he puts it across. Though there is a hint of sadness, a lingering melancholy at the thought of how the roughness of his fingertips was created, the callouses on his palms a result of years and years of fighting.

“I’m happy you like them.” You say, leaning forward. “I was worried it wouldn’t be enough.”

“Enough?!” Wriothesley raises an eyebrow under the tuft of his cobalt bangs, perplexed. “Never in a thousand years could I ever deserve what you give me!” He holds his mitten-wrapped hands up just to make a point. “These? These are cute! I have never received fluffy gloves from anyone before. Not even once. This is so fun! You are the sweetest for coming up with this idea!”

The tenderness of his voice, almost desperate to show how much it all means to him — it’s silly, hilarious even that a small gift can make such a difference — the fondness pouring from his eyes, like he’s pouring liquid honey over your soul. You find yourself moving closer, drawn to him, craving his closeness. Craving to wrap your arms around his waist and find the steady thumping of his heart amidst all other background noises.

“Should we get you a pair for every winter month, then?” You joke, shyly leaning against him, carefully observing his reaction. “Who would’ve thought that the Duke of Meropide is such a sweetheart, hm? A good boy under those scary looks, all giddy over a colourful yarn.”

Wriothesley doesn’t answer at first, fighting off a boisterous laugh. His mind is racing in several different directions, struggling to form coherent thoughts under your touch. He sighs, gently enveloping you into his embrace and letting himself indulge in this feeling just for a little while longer. It is not enough to have these small moments when you visit him here, but he gladly accepts anything you offer him, secretly hoping there’s a chance you will stay with him longer this time.

Anything, a glimmer of hope.

And now you are saying all these sweet things…

“Why would you want to get me more when I can have you wrapped in my arms every winter?” He asks in the same tone you used earlier, with a barely audible chuckle at the end of the sentence. “You’re much warmer, you know.”

“Ah, you and your flirting out of nowhere! Just when I’m least prepared.” You shake your head, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips to shake off the fire running to your face at his comment.

“Are you embarrassed now?” He smiles softly, his eyes glinting mischievously in the candlelight.

“No!” You pout, unwilling to admit how you do melt a little under his gaze. “I can flirt back too, if you wish.”

“Please.” He begs, chuckling as he says that. “Entertain me with your wits.”

He seems amused by this idea. Not in a teasing way, but rather playful, genuinely interested in what you are about to say. And so you give it a try, breathing in slowly to think of something… well, witty. Or at least funny enough to make him smile.

Obviously, as if asked to show your skills on request, your head is empty. This is embarrassing, not funny at all. But you cannot let him see that, trying to appear cool and nonchalant about it.

“Well, perhaps you’re right—” you begin, “you may have those fluffy mittens on your hands, but you will still need someone to warm up your heart.”

“I think I may be infected with a cold by now,” he replies, barely holding it together as he leans in for a bear hug, the entire lump of his large self covering you in hearty embrace. “I might need some extra cuddles.”

You squirm in his hold, pretending to struggle as if your plan is to run away — yet he knows well enough that it’s a playful ruse to get more affection out of him. He snuggles against your cheek, gently rubbing his nose against your skin. There is so much he wants to say, so many things that swirl in his head, and yet no words are uttered. He feels content to enjoy this moment with you.

No interruptions, no reminders that you have to return to the surface soon.

When Wriothesley lets go of you, his eyes fixate on the lines of your face, and your lips curl into a warm smile. His hands cup your cheeks gently, not wanting to ever let go. Your skin is soft under his touch, warm against the wool of the fluffy mittens. He traces the curves of your face with the gentleness of someone who is seeing you for the first time, every minute detail captured and studied. Every subtle feature — the glint in your eyes, the slight twitch of your mouth as you bite back a grin — he’s committing it all to memory.

“You are so beautiful,” he breathes out, his words hanging in the air between you like a thin thread of golden light. “I—”

“I love you more.” You interrupt him, stealing the kiss that was on the tip of his tongue, along with the confession.

Wriothesley lets out a pleased sound, almost like a low purr. The soft blush creeping onto his cheeks makes his face seem softer, somehow less threatening. The Duke of Meropide no longer towers over you like a mountain, but he is the most tender of the men. And you couldn’t have fallen in love with anyone else.

No, only with him.

“Happy birthday, Wriothesley.”

[userautumn]

i thought you would be happy with buck getting his oh moment and realizing his feelings for eddie but i guess you really were sucked into the bucktommy fanon created huh. Shame that you won't be able to enjoy canon buddie when it happens.

This is the only message I am going to answer about this specifically since I initially brought the topic up on my blog.

So, first of all, by definition, BuckTommy isn't fanon. Fanon is a ship or character that is completely generated by fandom. Buddie, for example, is fanon. Although they share a strong platonic bond, their relationship is not textually romantic. They do not kiss. They are not textually established romantic partners. Eddie said in the last episode that he is straight. So Buddie only exists within a fandom context. Conversely, BuckTommy is established as canon. Buck has touched mouths with that man on-screen. They were established as boyfriends and, now, ex-boyfriends. So it is, quite literally, impossible for BuckTommy to be fanon, even if fans do extrapolate, embellish, or reconstruct that relationship for their own pleasure. So, that's number one.

Number Two: According to this fandom, Buck and Eddie have had their oh moments a combined total of six times now at least (3x15, 3x03, 4x13, and 5x11, to name a few) and absolutely nothing concrete has come out of these events. The shooting is the closest we ever got, and that was four seasons ago. I don't begrudge anyone for reading that moment at the end of tonight's episode within a romantic Buddie context. Go absolutely nuts and have fun with it. But to me, that moment, such as it was, was more of the same - Buck or Eddie look at each other a certain way, or have evident (non-romantic) feelings related to the other, fandom loses their minds, they speculate, convince themselves they're right, nothing happens, rinse and repeat. I'm personally tired of the spin cycle.

I said I wanted strides toward Buddie canon to be made crystal clear and that's still true. You clearly see things differently (and that's alright), but outside the Buddie fanfiction hivemind, tonight's episode was not crystal clear. There was no discussion of Buck's feelings. He didn't vent them to Maddie or Bobby or Eddie himself. He didn't say, out loud, or indicate in any explicitly romantic way that he has feelings for Eddie. Buck having feelings about Eddie leaving is not the same as having feelings for him. They are best friends. They are family, actually. If Eddie leaves, Buck is losing the anchor to his support system and his (pseudo-)son. That's a big deal. That is an extraordinary weight to carry, especially on the heels of a significant breakup, and especially while dealing with abandonment issues. There was nothing romantic about that and, reducing that moment to a romantic reading, seems... odd. To me.

I'd like to think I'd still be able to enjoy Canon Buddie if it happens tbh. I actively write fic about those two in my spare time even though I keep my conversations about them to the DMs. But if I'm not able to enjoy it, it won't be because of the ship itself, it will be because I finally tired of the abject cruelty that's cropped up in this space. There's this unspoken rule in fandom that what happens during hiatus stays in hiatus, and we all just silently agree to move on from it when the show comes back. But I'm having a hard time with that this year because I've seen and experienced some absolutely insane things from this fandom the last few months that have stuck with me. So. Maybe I won't still enjoy it, but I hope I will.

I was really angry with the (non-Buddie related) content of this episode when you messaged me, so you probably thought or hoped I would bitch and curse you out, and we'd do this whole back and forth thing that would inevitably lead to you getting blocked. But I meant what I said - I have no interest in arguing with anyone about this show. We're not going to agree, and that's okay. I'm not your inspirational Buddie Warrior, and that's also okay. I have too much to deal with than to actively engage in internet beef. What is is what is, whether you or I or both or neither of us like it, and arguing about it isn't going to change it. So we might as will just learn to live with it and each other as best as we can.

I'm going to go watch TV now.

[leighsartworks216]

Cinderella

Zayne x gn!Reader

Believe it or not, I started this fic before his cat card came out. And then I saw the card and I simply had to finish this

Warnings: fluff, domestic fluff, married life, established relationship, food/cooking, kissing, implied sexual content

Word Count: 1, 431

Main Masterlist

Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

Your body is weighed down by morning as you heave yourself to your feet, shivering all the while as the cold air of the room caresses your bare skin. You hurry to throw on the first thing you can find: Zayne’s shirt abandoned on the floor. As you start to button it up, you turn to look at the man himself, still fast asleep on his side of the bed.

His hair is tousled and unkempt, from your fingers and his pillow. His lips slightly parted with slow, even breaths. The blankets are up to his chest. Reddened marks trail from his exposed neck and down his body. You smile just thinking about his usual efforts to try hiding them when he has to go into work. It’s unlikely he’ll wear his turtleneck today, given he doesn’t have to go anywhere. And you’re going to love pulling down his collar to kiss right over them again.

Quietly, you pad your way to your dresser for some fresh underwear, collecting stray clothes as you go to dump them into the hamper. Then, you creep over to his side and carefully pull the blankets back up to his neck. The clock on his bedside table reads 9am. If you’re very lucky, he’ll sleep in until 10. He needs this rest.

You lean down and press a featherlight kiss to his cheek. He shifts slightly, his head turning as if he’s trying to chase your touch. Warmth floods your chest as you sneak out of the bedroom and so, so slowly close the door behind you.

The floor is cold under your feet as you make your way through the house. You make a detour to the entryway to steal Zayne’s own house slippers, left forgotten after you got home from dinner last night. It’s truly a miracle he found the patience to leave his shoes at the door. The slippers don’t fit you, but they protect your feet from the cold as you finally head into the kitchen to enact your devious plan to take care of your husband.

You work as quietly as you can to take down a pan and pull out a spatula. You grab a bowl and lay out all the ingredients you need to make pancakes. You also pull out some blueberries to drop into the batter once it’s all mixed together. With a drizzle of oil in the heated pan, you use a spoon to glob the batter into little piles. They spread out into little discs, almost but not quite touching each other.

You hum to yourself as you grab a couple of plates from the cabinet. You also grab his mug and get the coffee pot started on brewing some fresh, hot coffee. As it brews, you flip the pancakes over, exposing their golden brown deliciousness. They’re thick and fluffy, and you pull out some maple syrup from the fridge to set on the table. Once the pot is brewed, you fill the mug with coffee and top it off with some sugar, just how he likes it.

You lay the first few pancakes onto a plate, setting them in a cute little toppled-domino array, before globbing some more batter into the pan. You cover the bowl and set it in the fridge to finish at a later time. You consider the possibility of giving it to Xavier, but he’d need to use a stove to make them… Best not.

Once the next batch is done, you lay them onto your own plate and crack two eggs into the pan. Their liquid insides meet the heated metal with a pleasant sizzle. You turn down the heat a little, and watch as the eggs begin to cook.

“So that’s where my slippers went.”

You whirl around to the kitchen entrance. “Zayne! You can’t just sneak up on me like that!” you chastise.

He grins as he closes the distance between you. His hair is still a mess, but at least he took the time to pull on his robe. You lean up, and he meets you halfway for a soft kiss. It’s quick, just a little peck - but it’s sweet and tender and makes your heart leap with joy, even after you’ve been together for so long.

“You forgot your slippers in the bedroom.” He holds them up with one hand, where they dangle from two of his fingers.

You glance at the eggs quickly. “Yeah, well, I didn’t wanna risk waking up Sleeping Beauty,” you tease. You reach up to grab at his ear, but he easily ducks away. “You’re not even supposed to be up yet.” You then grab for your slippers, but he also pulls those out of your reach.

“I needed to find my Cinderella,” he teases back. “May I?” He gestures down to your feet, adorned in his slippers. You give him a suspicious look - it’s not often he’s so playful - but you nod, nonetheless. Your cheeks instantly grow warm as you watch him slowly kneel down in front of you, hazel green eyes locked to yours. He looks up at you like you are royalty meant to be worshipped.

You shift away from the stove enough to lean back against the marble countertop. It’s cold chill does nothing to tamp down the heated blood coursing through your veins. Zayne’s eyes slip shut as he pushes the dangling hem of his stolen shirt up to expose the skin of your thigh. His mouth immediately seeks it out, pressing featherlight kisses just below the line of your underwear and down your leg.

His fingers follow a similar pattern. They dance along your skin gracefully, almost tickling you as they travel to the back of your thigh, slowly gliding down all the way to your calf. His mouth stops at your knee. His hot breath fans over your bare skin, reverent and appreciative, exhaled from his nose, or from his mouth just as he goes in to leave another kiss.

His hand trails lower to your ankle. His thumb massages around the jutting bone, coaxing you to shift your weight and lift your foot up. With his other hand, he removes his slipper and sets it aside. His eyes open slightly to ensure he picks up the correct replacement; to watch as he slides the slipper tenderly onto your foot. “A perfect match,” he whispers.

You reach down to comb your fingers through his hair, detangling and smoothing it out so it sits normally on his head again. You can feel his grin. You’re tempted to grab his ear again just to mess with him.

He guides your foot back to solid ground. His lips find your other thigh, his hand finds your other ankle, and he helps you back onto one foot as he trades slippers once more. He meets your eyes again as he stands, and you feel like you can breathe again.

Suddenly reminded of what you were doing before this, you hurriedly flip the eggs over. “You almost made me burn breakfast,” you chide, but your face is so flushed, it doesn’t come across as seriously as you wish it did.

He unceremoniously slides his slippers onto his feet with a self-satisfied grin and a soft chuckle. His arms wrap around your waist, his chest to your back as he hugs you from behind. His chin rests on your shoulder with his head tilted to lean against yours. Your free hand finds one of his over your stomach. Fingers move in a familiar dance to tangle together. You trace the cool band on his ring finger. He watches the morning light catch on yours.

“Thank you, my love,” he hums, content.

You kiss his head. “Of course. I wanted to do something nice for your day off.” You have to let him go in order to transfer the eggs (slightly overcooked) to your plates. He automatically turns the stove off, watching to make sure you don’t accidentally burn yourself. “What do you want to do for the rest of the day?”

He steps away, arms slipping from your body, to move about the kitchen. While you grab the plates and carry them over to the table, he grabs his coffee and takes a careful sip of the hot liquid. It’s just as he likes it. He carries it over with a glass of fruit juice that he sets in front of your plate.

“Anything,” he responds at last. “As long as it’s with you.”

You chuckle. “Alright, then we’ll stay in bed all day.”

He smiles. “That sounds perfect.”

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @deepzombieyouth @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc

[emloafs]

i really just think cobra kai would be a more interesting show if eli and demetri got together at the last all-valley tournament

like up the tension of them becoming friends again in s4 and navigating that their feelings are actually MORE than friendship

like hawk going to miyagi do to fight after his head is shaved for demetri would be so much sweeter if it was also charged with eli's feelings for demetri

imagine it's demetri who kisses Eli to get him his confidence back right before his fight

the entirety of season 5 is charged with "established relationship" vibes from the two of them

and them both helping miguel with his love life would still make sense but suddenly their reference for relationship advice is each other (and they're entirely dysfunctional so it makes sense why their advice ends up sucking)

season 6 divorce arc would be even more painful with demetri thinking that eli not applying to MIT means he's dumping him....

...and eli being like "no dipshit i want to explore other options" "oh other OPTIONS? like date other PEOPLE?" "demetri no-"

and like just add another relationship crisis to the list with the sekai taikai that's pretty much what had everyone else off their game.....

and then the locker room apology would've obviously ended in a kiss

(bonus points if no one knows they're dating - they're not hiding it, everyone just thinks they're Like That)

[apollowhoo]

HELLO, can I request some Jason The Toymaker headcanons? The reader looks like a doll, one of those old ones. Please, established relationship :3

I'm sorry if I didn't explain myself well, I'm terrible at English.

ACTUALLY GOING BALLISTIC OVER MY FIRST CREEPYPASTA REQUEST!!

JASON THE TOY MAKER X DOLL LIKE!READER

Jason was utterly captivated the moment he saw you. Your porcelain-like skin, the way your eyes seemed to sparkle unnaturally in the light, and your perfectly delicate features reminded him of the fine craftsmanship he adores in his work. From the very start, he considered you a masterpiece—a living, breathing work of art.

To him, you’re as fragile as glass and just as irreplaceable. He has no problem glaring at anyone who so much as looks at you for too long. In Jason’s mind, the world is full of people who don’t deserve to admire something as perfect as you.

Jason can’t help but treat you like a literal doll at times. He’s constantly asking if you’ve been taking care of yourself. “Have you moisturized? You mustn’t let your beautiful skin dry out!” He’s also overly concerned about any blemishes or scratches you might get, to the point where he might lash out at whatever (or whoever) caused them.

Jason has a special chair in his workshop that he calls your “throne.” It’s covered with velvet and decorated with intricate carvings he spent hours perfecting. He insists you sit there and watch him work, claiming that your presence inspires his creativity.

Despite his sweet moments, Jason’s darker tendencies occasionally emerge. He adores you, but his definition of “love” often leans toward... ownership. “You’re mine, my perfect little doll. No one else will ever lay a hand on you.” It’s both a declaration and a promise, one he would uphold with blood if necessary.

Jason loves dressing you to match his aesthetic—dark reds, golds, and intricate designs that give you the appearance of a vintage doll brought to life. He takes immense pride in how the two of you complement each other, calling it “a display of true craftsmanship.”

To Jason, you’re more than a lover—you’re his muse. His workshop overflows with creations inspired by you: doll replicas, paintings, carvings, and even jewelry. “Every artist needs their inspiration,” he says with a smirk, “and you, my dear, are mine.”

[sugar-plum-writer]

Show Me What You Got <3

Tags: Jing YuanxFem!Reader; O*er-stimulation to max; Established Relationship; Jing Yuan eating you out; Man-handling; P*ssy drunk Jing Yuan; c*m-play; body worshipping; rough sex; back to back o*gasms; clit play; NSFW + more NSFW; explicit; MNDI! (18+); usage of pet names- "Love, Darlin', Darling, Sweetheart, Dear, Dearest"; Slightly Possessive and Obsessive Jing Yuan; Down Bad Jing Yuan

A/n: Head empty nothing other than how good Jing Yuan would be at eating p*ssy- I want him so bad- god I have lost it- "Once you close your eyes- eyes, running down your thighs- thighs, got you hypnotized- 'tized, I got you beggin' for more~"

Synopsis: What happens when you ask your boyfriend exactly how good he is at eating p*ssy?

Word Count: 1.6k

Jing Yuan considered himself to be fairly experienced in various aspects, even in the sex business- he's lived for so long after all. His skills will be on another level compared to others.

You knew that he was damn good at what he did- just a touch from him grinding his thumb on your g-spot in that particular way and angle was enough to make you be a mess. It's like he knew your pussy better than you did- knew the exact g-spot- which angle to grind and fuck you in.

But, you were always curious just to know exactly how good he was, who would not?

That's how because of sheer curiosity you ended up with him swirling his tongue on your cunt. The great general, your lover, oh so esteemed man respected in the cosmos between your legs just to satisfy your curiosity of how good he really is

And who is he to not indulge your curiosities? If it means getting to have his way with you~

......

"J-Jing Yuan…hah..ngh I ca-can't", you panted gasping for air as you arched your back, mewling and gripping the sheets while Jing Yuan swirled his tongue against your cilt flicking it

"My love- of course you can~ weren't you the one curious about how good I am hm?~", he hummed against your walls which were clamping down on his tongue burying himself even more nose-deep into your oh-so-sweet cunt- lapping it up like a thirsty man who found water in the desert

"ah- hah ngh!", arching your back even more with hands running through his hair- gripping it till your knuckles turned white

Jing Yuan looked into your half-lidded eyes amused and chuckled, "Someone's falling apart huh? How is it? My skills darlin?~", his deep voice reverberated against your dripping cunt- sending shivers up your spine, scratching a spot in your brain which just made you more lost- god damn why is his voice so deep and hot? He knows exactly what it does to you when he speaks like that

Pressing his warm tongue flat against your vulva, sliding it into the sides- making you widen your eyes and gasp as his tongue continued to caress the nook and crannies- each lip of your vulva exactly at the right angle and spot; letting the pre-cum coat his tongue and then teasingly flick it against your clit- making you whimper as tears trickled from your eyes. He continued circling the spot again- and again- and again- kept repeating this process increasing the speed each time; teasingly drawing out moans from your throat and cum from pussy

Applying and shifting pressure to different areas as his warm tongue glided against your cunt grinding against your clit.

"You like this huh sweetheart? I should do this more often hm?~", the calmness of his voice, and the smug smirk were a sharp contrast to the mess that was your head- you felt so lost; whimpering moaning throwing out curses-

Whenever your movements got too out of hand and your legs started to squeeze together Jing Yuan just held you down unable to move as he continued to eat you out

"J-Jing Yuan...it's.. too good ah…hah ngh!", mewling you squeezed your eyes shut wanting to get away from his skilled movements as the pleasure was too much- frantically trying to hold onto him, the sheets- anything

"I know darlin'- I know Y/n", he whispered huskily, eyes darkened with lust, "You taste so sweet my love- won't you give me more?~"

It felt too good- dangerously good- tears spilled out of your eyes. You wanted to run away, the overstimulation was too much- he was exploring your pussy feeling every little bump, every little curve- the areas which made you jolt, places where your nerves met- you swear even you have never explored your pussy like this ever

In such depth- he was digging deep into your skin- caressing every nerve, vein, and lines; mapping you out. Your bodies Christopher Columbus

"Darling you wanna know a fun fact?", his eyes gleamed devilishly as his tongue continued to caress a particular spot that was knocking the life out of you as you let out a grueling moan, "W-…ah- hah what is it 'Yuan", you stuttered your voice high-pitched and breathless

Seriously what is with him saying the most random things in moments like this?

"There are more than 2 g-spots more like there are 5 spots where the nerve-endings meet darlin'~", he arched his tongue a bit and grazed his canine lightly at the inner lip of your vulva sending jolts of pleasure- just when you thought you couldn't moan higher, here he was proving you wrong

"W-What?..", you shudder shakily trying to focus on what he is saying- eyes glassy glazed with pleasure

"Many times you aren't able to differentiate between them~ why don't I help you find all the spots huh? So you can differentiate between which spot you cummed from and tell me your favorite?~", he continued to ramble in a daze which half entered your head while the other half was just a mess

"I-I didn't even know…hah- that more than ngh ah!", your voice trails off as his thumb pressed against your outer vulva lips rubbing it while his tongue moved faster against the cervix of your inner lip right near the clit

You swore you could see stars with the way he was making you cum- rather than how many times he made you cum it was more about the quality of the orgasms, the pleasure was too much, and your poor cunt was just oozing slick dripping all over as if a tap had been opened

To keep yourself from breaking you continued to grip Jing Yuan's hair so tight you must have ripped off some strands, holding on for dear life feeling your soul left your body. You knew that he had some great skills after all he has lived for so long but for him to be this good you weren't prepared for this.

Hell you think he might be the best pussy eater in all of Xianzhou.

All your nerves felt like it was on mind-numbing fire, ablaze from pleasure- your whole body felt abuzz in such a way your own body felt foreign to you- all tingly, eyes glazed over looking into his gleaming golden eyes which were brimming with sharp focus.

Your body became his.

An alertness looking at each moan that escaped your lips, the way your eyes fluttered as you gasped, each twitch, each arch, and each grind against his tongue

You swear his brain was noting down each movement and your reaction to the movements of his tongue on different areas of your vulva

"My my~ I have not even gotten serious yet you are already such a mess my dear?~", lifting his head with a white sheen coating his lips and chin, golden eyes burning with lust; white hair sticking to his forehead- the smug smirk with sinful teasing words echoing

"Whatever shall we do my dearest? What a messy girl I've got on my bed tonight~", sweeping his long white hair back he continued to maintain eye contact- his features looked even sharper, the dim golden lights making his golden eyes glow even more- hitting his face at just the right angles

How can someone be this handsome? You swear if this locks did not cover his face and he kept his hair swept back- everyone would loose their minds over him- they all simped for him they will simp even more

"Will my love even be able to handle more?", teasingly he wrapped your legs around his neck, hands on your waist moving up to your breasts- pinching the nipples- flicking them with his fingers while his hot breath was on your puffy cunt-

Pressing his lips on the outside of the vulva- kissing it with his tongue- then roughly moving his tongue side by side over your clit at increased speed, focus, and pressure- making you arch your back at the speed he was working making you overwhelmed

"Jing Yuan- !", gazing into his eyes full of desperate need you reached your hand towards him- running your fingers through his white locks, "Need you so bad- please- please I wanna cum!", with quivering lips you mewled as more tears poured out; your brain was too overrun with him- all it could think about was him and his tongue and how good he was making you feel

Looking into your eyes all dazed, seeing the need in them- flushed cheeks, lips parted, so breathless was enough to make Jing Yuan want to give you even more pleasure, hell he'd give you everything you ask for

A sick twisted desire to make you drown in pleasure, an abyss of pleasure till you could not breathe, think, a mind-breaking pleasure you'd never forget- only him- him- and him

He wondered what expression you'd make if he told you these dark thoughts, would you run away?, be scared? or be as obsessed with him as he is obsessed with you?

Closing his eyes he continued to taste you- memorizing the exact spots holding you down- drinking it all in. His mind clouded by your moans, nails digging in deep, back arching, kneading your breasts and flicking the nipples

No one's ever made him like this- so drunk- so blissed out- he's loved many in his lifetime but none to the point of losing himself- he would be ruined if you ever left him- he would shatter if you left him- he loved you so much enough to set the Xianzhou on fire

Throw a single smile his way and give him poison

He'll drink it happily like it's Heaven on Earth

If your hands are wrapped around his neck trying to kill him

He'd admire the beauty in your eyes

"Look at her. I would die for her. I would kill for her. Either way, what bliss"

Link to Master List! Reblogs, hearts and comments appreciated~ <3

[wannab-urs]

Pedro Pascal Character Fic Recs | Vol 42

AO3 | Kofi | Main Masterlist | The Spreadsheet Masterlist

Howdy Folks,

guess who's back! I don't know if I'm back to doing these consistently, but I have a hell of a list for y'all. Tags and summaries provided by the author, commentary provided by yours truly.

Mindfuck - Dave one shot by @whatsnewalycat

He said he could rattle the bees from your buzzing honeycomb brain. All you had to do was trust him with this power. So you did. And you do. Your valiant beekeeper meets you at this hotel every other Tuesday night, except on holidays.

Hypnotism, hypnosis-kink, Imperfect Praxis of Hypnosis, Humiliation, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Praise Kink, Smut, unprotected piv, D/s dynamic, Dom Dave, Mindfuck

One of the weirdest things I've ever read, but also one of the best. I was super into this. Mindfucking is WILD.... I'd read more of this universe in a heartbeat

Bittersweet Love - Dieter one shot by @ozarkthedog

Dieter is in recovery from drug addiction, the disease that cost him you. This is his first premiere after getting clean and his first one without you.

angst but with a happy ending! mentions of drug use and alcohol but nothing graphic.

This is such a sweet fic? That might be a weird way to describe it. I just love Dieter getting his shit together and all the good coming his way because of it.

Starlet - Dieter one shot by @whocaresstillthelouvre

Your husband has a big movie premiere, sure he looks great, but his co-star looks even better.

PWP, threesome, smut, fingering, oral (f receiving), lesbian fun, unprotected p in v sex, cum eating, addiction talk, sober Dieter, Kit Kats, I wrote this for the bi girls.

This fic is a dream, seriously. I want a hot movie star husband to bring pretty movie star women into my bed please and thank you.

Pas de Deux - Din series by @burntheedges

When Din Djarin – principal dancer at Concordia Ballet Company and generational talent in the classical style – suddenly left CBC and joined the Nevarro Ballet Theater mid-season, it shocked the ballet world. You never would have guessed that he would change your life, too.

modern AU, ballet AU, fluff, angst, flirting, dancing, lots of ballet terms (I’ll define things/link videos/etc. -- see below), misunderstandings, character study, romance, pet names (sweetheart, beautiful), lots of tension, later: smut, kissing, grinding, fingering, p-in-v sex, creampie, each chapter will have its own tags, Din lifts reader (see note below about reader)

This is one of the few modern Din AUs I've read, as I tend not to like them, but I can't recommend this enough. I was drawn in by the summary and hooked by the first chapter!

Never Let Me Go - Ezra one shot by @yopossum

Loving, reverent domestic smut with sweet, submissive Ezra.

SMUT; no plot that’s it just porn but with FEELINGS; sub!Ezra; established relationship; super duper in love; domestic fluff; comfort; gratuitous pet names; praise kink; body worship; body hair; grinding; breast and nipple play; teasing/edging if you squint; light bondage; riding; PIV; no condom (there’s come y’all); religious language and imagery as literary device; Ezra the human thesaurus; prose gettin purple; making grown men whine and cry; reader is not gendered, has breasts and a vulva/vagina, is described as having puffed nipples and dimpled thighs, can straddle Ezra, but no coloring, size, appearance, age, or ability is otherwise noted; Ezra is an amputee and healed and we love it (no gore or trauma or background re: his arm); but I did write this because I was watching Prospect without actually watching and was inspired by *~*those sounds*~* out of context tho; Beatrice is not reader’s name, just a nerdy Dante reference; I stole this title from Florence Welch; old person on tumblr; is this spacing wack?; not a beta in sight; 18+ only no minors

SUBMISSIVE EZRA!!! I loved this. Such a gorgeous fic.

Stick Buddies - Frankie series by @auteurdelabre

You and Frankie find yourselves in a complicated situation when invited to Benny's wedding for a week in Mexico. Despite your strained friendship, you both pretend to be a couple to save Frankie embarrassment when seeing his recently engaged ex wife. However as you navigate through this charade, old feelings and unresolved issues resurface.

friends to enemies, angst, fake relationship, bickering, there's only one bed, destination weddings, enemies to lovers, jealousy, idiots in love, revealed secrets, mutual pining, smut, HEA, so many fucking tropes.

friends to enemies to lovers??? Sign me the fuck up.

Where You Left Me - Frankie one shot by @chaotic-mystery

You meet Frankie for a date and reminisce about your relationship.

MAJOR character death. No movie AU but fuck Tom. This is overall angst heavy and please take care of yourself. Grief & loss, sadness, memories, I think that’s it? It’s just overall a bittersweet and tragically lovesick story. There’s no physical descriptions of reader other than wearing a black dress at one point and having hair that tickles Frankie’s nose. no y/n used

This shit made me cry in the best way. Please read this.

One of Your Girls - Frankie one shot by @pedropeach

unpacking some of frankie's old things leads to a revelation about his past. (OR to put it simply: frankie morales x triple frontier boys circle jerk)

Circle Jerk, Sub!Frankie, Bukkake, Facials, Cumplay, Cum Swallowing, frankie is literally a cum dumpster (and loves it), Praise Kink, Pet Names, Dirty Talk, oral (m receiving), Deepthroating, Cock Worship, Use of restraints, Sexy Photographs, Sharing, brief mentions of anal sex (m/m), for story purposes you are frankie's current gf, frankie x all the guys individually, this includes tom but he's not part of the circle jerk, sry tom

Really was not expecting this to be as tender and soft and sweet as it is considering it's one of the more filthy things I've ever read. Absolutely love it.

I'll Carry You - Javi P series by @almostfoxglove

You reunite with your childhood best friend when he arrives home from Colombia. Javier's sudden return to your life exhumes buried heartbreak, but he longs to set things right.

Eventual smut. Reference to canon-typical violence, injury, and the death of a parent. Plenty of alcohol consumption, yearning, and angst. YEARNING!!!

The yearning is exquisite. The fic is exquisite. I'm in love with this fic

Remorse for Remedy - Joel series by @pedgito

Alone, the Miller's brothers seem like your only hope. The outbreak is still fresh, weeks after the fall and all that matters is survival and the unlikely comfort that comes along with a man who wants nothing to do with you.

early outbreak, canon typical violence, morally grey!joel, smut (warnings given with each chapters), exploration of kinks, enemies to lovers, age gap (early 20s/mid 30s), unhealthy coping mechanisms, detailed warning with each chapter

I haven't ever read a series about Joel immediately post outbreak, which is wild. It's always raider!joel or qz!joel or jackson!joel. I love this new perspective and I'm so excited to read more.

Biology - Joel one shot by @endlessthxxghts

Joel hurt his back at work, so you've been helping him around the house until he heals.

able-bodied, female sex anatomy, and inherently fem!reader. No description of reader, everything is neutral (ex. “your bottoms,” “the curve of you” — nothing is specific in the way “you” are described). Age gap (reader early 20s, Joel in 50s). EXPLICIT MATERIAL PRESENT. HEED THE WARNINGS. WEIRD boundaries are crossed…you're not blood-related to Joel, but you were raised like you were. You call him “uncle.” Pet names (baby, darlin’, sweetheart, etc.). Pussy pronouns (she). Innocent touches until it isn't. Sexual tension galore. Slight dub-con. Icky Joel. Icky reader. Pussy grinding. Dirty talk. Slight degradation (“bitch” is used only once). Multiple orgasms. P in V unprotected. Reader is on top. Lots of teasing about the nature of yours and Joel’s relationship.

Well slap me silly and call me an uncle fucker because this fic was amazing. (they're not really related don't. look. at. ME.)

The Savage and the Sanctuary - Joel series by @justagalwhowrites

After the death of his daughter, Joel Miller fell apart. But when searching for answers at the bottom of a bottle and within his own rage doesn't fix it, he resigns himself to working for his brother in private security. It's a job that starts him down the path to stability and a semblance of a life, even if it's not one he particularly wants. At least it does until you show up. The biggest movie star in the world with your newly adopted niece in tow, you throw everything about Joel's life into flux. Is he capable of letting himself feel something again while protecting the only things left in the world that matter?

Protective Joel, Ellie & Joel Bonding, Joel is Bad at Feelings, POV Joel, Joel Needs a Hug, Alternate Universe - No Cordyceps Outbreak, Enemies to Lovers, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn

So pumped for a new Kit fic. Super into bodyguard Joel. The angst right out the gate is so beautifully painful, I just know I'm gonna cry once a chapter at least. (i've only read one chapter, so I have some catching up to do!)

Professor's Pet - Joel one shot by @chaotic-mystery

Professor Miller wants you to teach the class tomorrow morning & you need help being less nervous. What if he’s the reason you’re nervous, though?

Age gap but not specified, power imbalance (professor x TA, reader stutters when nervous, academic weapon, teasing, fingering, one (1) pair of panties ripped to shreds, oral (f receiving), spitting, pussy slaps, praise kink, name calling (good girl, sweetheart, baby, smart girl), dirty talk, talking you through it, spanking, condescending a little bit, cum eating, face riding, nasty freaky kisses to share your cum, no use of y/n

I cannot begin to explain how hot him helping her practice is. And then the smut.... I need a shower

Call It What It Is - Joel one shot by @joelsgreys

A disagreement over patrol duty leads to declarations that have been long overdue.

JACKSON ERA JOEL. established relationship. HEFTY AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and joel is 56). ellie and joel are fine bc i said so and they deserve nothing less. reader handles a rifle, joel’s a little too overprotective and almost seems controlling, but i promise he is not. well, maybe just a smidge. arguing, admission of feelings, joel miller says i love you (yes this is ooc, no i do not care bc i need this old man to tell me he loves me). angst, fluff. quite a bit of side character interaction before we get to joel and reader in the second half. the only physical description of reader is that she is shorter than joel.

We love overprotective Joel in this house

The Guard Dog - Pero Tovar one shot by @avastrasposts

Sent to your uncle's bleak castle in the north of England, you expect only a dreary existence until you meet his groundskeeper, a scarred, frightening Spaniard. But love in the Victorian era is not easy and life doesn't follow straight paths.

this is mainly all fluff with a bit of angst. Some of that casual racism and predjudice of the period rears its ugly head though. I've tried to keep the reader as blank as possible, but it's Victorian England and she's a lady so I have to presume she doesn't speak Spanish and has fair skin. No use of y/n.

This was so beautiful. I love the setting, I love the characterization, I love the story

Bloody Kisses - Tim Rockford/Dio series by @perotovar

shane has been in denial about himself for a while. newly single and with the help of one of his favorite singers, he opens his eyes to a new venture he could possibly take: the cop he sees on a semi-regular basis, detective tim rockford.

takes place in the early 00s, age gap (shane is 23, tim is 40), internalized homophobia, hurtful names (fairy boy, faggot, queer as a slur, etc), a gay porn magazine, lots of references to peter steele of type o negative (and his playgirl issue), male masturbation, acab, angst, protected p in a, fingering, excessive amounts of lube

I started reading this a while ago, but I never added it to the spreadsheet. I'm in love with how soft Tim is with Dio UgH

In the shadows of others, we grow - Tim Rockford/Dave York series by @sin-djarin

What happens when you put two different areas of law enforcement in the same room a few times a year to atone for their 'sins'? You find common ground and figure it out. Together.

M/M, Established D/s dynamics, each chapter contains individual warnings.

This pairing?? Obsessed. The feelings?!?!? Give me 14 more fics in this universe PLEASE

An End to Drought - Javi P one shot by @almostfoxglove

The future of your family's homestead hangs in the balance as Javier Peña comes home in the middle of a drought.

Javier Peña Smut, Soft Javier Peña, Sweet Javier Peña, Javier Peña Has a Big Dick, Smut, Fluff and Smut, Fluff, Neighbors,Javier might be a god? who knows!, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Penis In Vagina Sex, Oral Sex, Creampie, Sex, Vaginal Sex, unprotected piv, Freyr, References to Norse Religion & Lore, Post Season 3

I'm obsessed with the way the challenge was interpreted. Is Javi a god? We don't know... but he sure fucks like one.

Some shit I wrote:

Make it Hurt - Logan Howlett x f!mutant!reader - sparring + pain kink

Morning Ride - Logan Howlett x f!reader - soft morning sex

You're So Dark - Dave York x f!reader - prof!Dave x student!Reader

[saintzweig]

i was thinking about how cute it would be if younger patrick planned an hang out with art and tashi so they could finally get to know his girlfriend, like go bowling or something all together

HI i like this one a lot i want you 🫵 to know that

patrick thirdwheeling arttashi after coming back from tour, art sitting next to tashi in the booth with his arm on the back of the scratched up leather seat while patrick sat across them, chowing down on his loaded fries that he made the couple pay for. in the middle of a conversation, tashi asks him for a favor "there's this girl on my team that won't stop bothering me until i set you up with her so please, just please this once" and the brunette male just shakes his head.

"come on, man. you'll get a good shag and she'll get off tashi's back. it's a win-win" art backed his girlfriend up, said girl nodding.

"look tash, i would love to help you out but i really can't." after minutes of pestering and countless assumptions as to why patrick doesn't want to, he finally tells them that he has a girlfriend. the two of you have been together for half a year now, although he didn't give much information on how or where you met.

"you're telling me you're in a committed relationship? you're serious about this girl? and she's serious about you?"

"what's that supposed to mean?"

"no, commitment and patrick zweig doesn't fit in the same sentence. is she even real or are you just trying to fool us?"

and patrick only rolls his eyes. the same night he calls you and tells you all about how his so called friends reacted, so you offered to drive down to stanford to meet art and tashi. driving directly to the bowling place that patrick sent you the address to, showing up in a dress that you know he really likes.

he runs over to you as soon as you enter the establishment, wrapping his arms around your waist to spin you around and give you kisses all over your face until you push him away, giggling. tashi and art in the background with their jaw slacked as they watched you from the bowling lanes. you introduce yourself to them, giving a little bit more background on your relationship with patrick. it didn't take long for you and tashi to warm up to each other, giggling as you watch the two boys flail around as if they aren't athletes.

"seriously, you can tell me if you're an actress that he paid to make it seem like he's not a loser"

"oh even if i was, i don't think patrick has enough money to hire me"

[hrts4hanniehae]

Special Announcement Video Jan 2023

*this is not a representation of the members of svt irl. y/n race and character type will be pre-determined to allow for a better plot.

*relationship has been established to other Seventeen members

masterlist

[a special announcement? what could be happening?]

Dino appears in front of the camera and sits down in a chair

Dino: Annyeonghaseyo, I’m Seventeen’s Dino.

Y/N goes to sit next to him

Y/N: Konnichiwa, I’m Seventeen’s Y/N.

Dino: We have an announcement to make.

[the announcement]

Dino pulls Y/N’s chair towards him and holds her hand tightly.

Y/N squeezes his hand back and leans onto him.

Dino: In June 2018, Y/N and I became a couple. I liked her since 2015 and she began to like me in 2017.

Y/N: We dated in secret until 2020 when the pandemic hit and I was sent back to Japan to help with HYBE Japan promotions. Dino accidentally let it slip to the rest of Seventeen, who helped to keep our secret until 2022. 

Dino: We told our managers and the company at the end of 2022 and got scolded for quite a while for hiding it. But finally… in 2023, we were allowed to share our 5-year love with Carats worldwide. 

Y/N: This video is being released because today is officially our 5th anniversary. Thank you for supporting Seventeen thus far and I hope that you all will continue to support Dino and me in our relationship.

-

S.Coups: I sort of expected Y/N and Dino to have feelings for each other, but I didn’t expect them to have been dating for 2 years before we found out.

Seungkwan: We were all very shocked to find out.

Vernon: It was crazy.

Jeonghan: Dino was in tears when he found out Y/N was staying in Japan for almost 2 years. 

DK: Wah… I remember his face…

Mingyu: I remember the horror on Y/N’s face when Dino let it slip that they were together. “How can I not react this way when I’m going to be in a long-distance relationship with the love of my life?!”

Wonwoo: You even remember it word for word, LOL!

Joshua: Y/N was horrified and we were so… in shock.

The8: In Dino’s defence, he was drunk when Y/N told us she was leaving Korea for more than a year. When we told Dino that Jun and I were going back to China for the same period, he didn’t even react that… much.

Jun: Yeah…

Woozi: I could tell that Dino liked Y/N in some way.

Hoshi: Really? I couldn’t.

-

Masaharu: Konnichiwa, I’m Kimura Y/N’s twin brother, Kimura Masaharu. I’ve met with the other Seventeen members a few times when I travelled to Korea and Dino was introduced to me as my younger sister’s boyfriend back in… 2020. 

Jirou: Konnichiwa! I’m Kimura Jirou, the youngest of the three Kimura siblings! You may also know me as Kiji from the 5th Gen Kpop group, TOX6! I became an idol because I was inspired by my sister. When I first watched ‘Hit the Road’, I finally realised how much my sister went through. That inspired me to audition for TOX6 and I got in!

-

Jirou: When she told me about her relationship with Dino-hyung, I was a bit scared because I knew how the public saw relationships in the idol industry. But when I looked at Dino-hyung, I knew he wouldn’t let my sister cry.

-

[Now you may be wondering why we did a video of the relationship reveal like this. Well… that’s because we want to show Carats how many people support this relationship in the hopes that you all can continue to give support to Y/N and Dino.]

-

Twice

Dahyun: I didn’t expect Y/N to tell us directly about her relationship.

Momo: Neither did I. 

Sana: She was shaking as she told us and I could tell she was so scared to let us know about it. 

Mina: I’m so glad she trusted us enough to tell us. They make a wonderful couple!

-

TxT

Yeonjun:  I was very surprised that Y/N-noona and Dino were dating.

Soobin: Yeah no kidding… 

Yeonjun: Of course, I’m happy for my two good friends!

Soobin: Y/NDino has TxT’s full support! 

-

Skz

Changbin: Y/N-noona, fighting! Dino, fighting! You’re a great match!

Leeknow: Congratulations, Y/N!

-

Atz

Yunho: They’re dating? No way… 

Seonghwa: Really? Wow…

Wooyoung: Wow… Good job, noona…

Hongjoong: Since 2018? Wow…

Mingi: That’s insane… 

San: Congratulations!

Jongho: Wow…

Yeosang: Y/N-noona, fighting!

-

Bnd

Jaehyun: Noona? And Dino-sunbaenim? Wow… Congratulations…

Riwoo: Fighting!!

Sungho: Congratulations!

-

EN- 

Heesung: Wow I didn’t expect that… Congratulations, Noona! 

Niki: Congratulations,  Noona.

-

Kim Sejong: Congratulations my dear little sister! I wish you many days of happiness!!

-

&TEAM

EJ: Noona, congratulations!!

Fuma: Y/N-san, I hope you have many happy days ahead!

K & Nicholas: Always be happy, Y/N-san!

Yuma & Jo: Congratulations!!

Harua: Congratulations, Y/N-senpai!

Taki & Maki: Fighting!

-

The scene fades back to Dino and Y/N. 

Y/N: So, that’s our relationship reveal! The day this is released is the day of our actual anniversary. I know this isn’t the most conventional relationship reveal, but we managed to hide our relationship from Carats for 5 years. I think that’s something worthy of a huge reveal.

Dino: So, we shall end this video with a video montage of pictures from our 5-year relationship. Thank you for loving us all this time. 

-

“I see the world in her eyes.” - Dino

“In my eyes, he is the world–my world.” - Y/N

[Happy 5th Anniversary, Dino and Y/N]

current taglist: @fairyofhour @megseungmin @sun-daddy-yoriichi @woozixo @euphoric-univers @christinewithluv @haowonbins @ocyeanicc @asyre @superhoshisvt @bangantokchy @chimmy-bts @angelarin @daisawa @writingbarnes @jeonghansshitester @belladaises @wonwootakemyheart @wonwooz1 @luchiet @kookssecret @thepoopdokyeomtouched @isabellah29 @leah-rose03 @coupshour @sooheehan @heesbees @hyuckxtagram @kissesfrmwonwoo @httphera @porridgesblog

[thefirst3chapters]

There's something about the Danes men recognizing the Gilmores' happiness in their final OS episodes. ("You look happier than when I saw you last." / "I just like to see you happy.") Maybe the S6 writers weren't sure that this was going to be Jess's last appearance, but this was Luke's definitive end for the series; in either case, at the time these episodes were written, they were the show's final statements on who these characters are.

It's established over and over how well Luke and Jess know the Gilmores and vice versa. Luke knows exactly what Lorelai brought to Bid-a-Basket day and has her wardrobe memorized and steadfastly believes that she can start her own inn even when she's convinced that she's failing. Jess knows that Rory isn't herself when she's in Hartford and remembers her birthday even though he's barely seen her in years (and ASP directly confirmed that the intention was to portray them as seeing each other for who they are). This mutual sense of knowing is baked into the first times both couples meet. The first time Lorelai met Luke, she pestered him during a lunch rush for coffee and for him to tell her his birthday until he relented. The first time Jess met Rory, he stole her book and wrote all over it. Both of these actions could've been horrible first impressions for anyone else, and on paper could've been horrible first impressions for Luke and Rory specifically, but they were charmed and intrigued, and they treasured the written keepsakes they were left with.

Even with this intrinsic knowledge, the Danes' failures as partners often boil down to the same problem: they retreat when they're in crisis. With their biggest, relationship-ending conflicts (Luke keeping April from Lorelai and the fallout of Jess not graduating), they spend months thinking that they have everything under control when they really don't and fail to tell the Gilmores anything. This is perhaps Jess's core flaw in S3 even more so than the fact that he left; he didn't have anywhere to stay, and finding out who his father was probably ended up being an important catalyst for the person he became, but he wasn't able to share any of that with Rory. She directly brings up her hurt over Jess not telling her anything when she's in the car with Lorelai and when she's on the phone with him, and her unhappiness here is so similar to Lorelai expressing her unhappiness about her relationship with Luke when she's in the car with the therapist. ("I don't like how I feel and I don't like what I do." / "I'm not happy, and I feel crappy all the time and I just think I've had it.") They've both been left behind.

This isn't the end, though. Luke and Jess spend their time apart from the Gilmores still loving them while also building/rebuilding their professional lives, coming to terms with their pasts, and showing up for their families. This is what I think separates Jess leaving from Christopher leaving. Christopher had options and resources to be in Rory's life but chose not to be a consistent presence, and Lorelai accepted that. Rory points this out to Lorelai in S5 E9: "You're just always waiting for him to get himself together." Rory can tell that dynamic isn't healthy from the years she's watched it play out. She doesn't let Jess back into her life when she knows he isn't ready, and he grows up without her out of his own determination. His circumstances were never really like Christopher's, and Rory was left in the dark about that at the time, but when he returns in S6, I think she recognizes the difference. There's a reason why Rory shares her deepest insecurities with Jess in AYITL and sprints out of her house because she can't wait to share her happiness with him but has such an emotionally distant relationship with Christopher. As for Luke and Lorelai, they gradually get closer in S7 as they learn to trust each other again. Luke turns to Lorelai when April is sick and he needs a character reference, and Lorelai's letter helps him win partial custody and reveals where her heart truly lies, which is a catalyst for her relationship with Christopher ending once and for all. Lorelai asks for Luke's help when she's looking for a new car, and even though it doesn't make sense to him, he finds a way for her to have the exact same model again because he knows it's important to her.

Then we get to those final scenes. At Truncheon, Jess can tell just by looking at Rory that she's happier now that she's back at Yale and is editing the newspaper. She breaks his heart, but he makes sure she'll get back to her car safely and offers himself as an alibi because he still wants the best for her. In "Bon Voyage," Luke stays up all night helping the town set up Rory's party and sewing a tarp together but doesn't even want Lorelai to know. Luke and Jess have hurt the Gilmores and been hurt by them, but for both of them, their final act in the OS is quietly, selflessly wanting Lorelai and Rory to be happy. I just can't fathom a Luke who doesn't love Lorelai or a Jess who doesn't love Rory; that love is imperfect and doesn't solely define either of them, but it's an inextricable part of who they are.

[eliotquillon]

We know Chase becomes a dumb whore after Cameron leaves, but how do you think Cameron is doing emotionally for the first year after the divorce?

short answer: NOT GOOD!

long answer: while i think it’s very apparent to the viewer that chase and cameron’s relationship, while maybe not inherently doomed, had some serious unaddressed problems that meant that they were on the track for some kind of breakup (permanent or temporary) regardless of dibala, from both of their POVs this is kind of coming out of nowhere. and for cameron especially, it’s a big deal that the divorce happens—after all, her first marriage literally ended with her husband’s death. she does not take marriage lightly. she wanted to wait until after she stopped working for house/became an established senior doctor in her own right to start looking for another long term partner because she wanted to take it seriously, and when she originally said that there was no end to the fellowship in sight; cameron has always liked to get things her own way, but she was especially not willing to settle or compromise when it came to her next husband. for all that she hedges and hesitates about commitment with chase + has the sperm as her get out of jail card, once she committed to that relationship—to marriage, in particular—i don’t think for a second she ever envisioned backing down from it. i think the divorce absolutely blindsided her.

and yes, cameron was the one who left—but chase was supposed to come with her to chicago. he was supposed to let her ‘redeem’ him from house’s influence and be his emotional caretaker and it didn’t happen. i think cameron absolutely left new jersey thinking, on some level, that chase was going to change his mind and end up following her. because while it’d be toxic and they’d grow to resent each other, if chase followed cameron to chicago they absolutely would have stayed together for the next 20+ years (and probably babytrapped each other in the process). and i can’t blame her for thinking that—this is chase, he of no spine and ‘it’s tuesday, i like you’; so much of his previous behaviour suggests that this is exactly what he would do. but he doesn’t follow her, obviously. and i think while she outwardly owns the fact that she left him and that it was the right decision, there’s probably a not-insignificant part of her that secretly sees it the other way round—that he left her, by being convinced by house to stay and not coming with her. i think she’s probably a lot more hurt about that than she lets on. and while i think there are a LOT of reasons as to why cameron goes out of her way to fly back to princeton and personally make sure chase signs the divorce papers only two or three months after they separate (this is a FAST timeline for a divorce by the way, i’ve said this before but cam and chase going straight for divorce with no hesitations or drawing-out is pretty unusual), i’m willing to bet that at least one of them was that she wanted to give him one last chance to change his mind. she was secretly hoping that maybe the reason he was delaying the signing was because he wanted her back and she showed up to give him the chance to beg her for forgiveness. but obviously that isn’t what happened at all lol.

post divorce, i think she does essentially the opposite of what chase does—instead of having a whore phase, she immediately starts dating For Marriage. a do-over of the do-over, to put it crudely. it fits with her flash forward future in s8 with a baby and new husband—that’s a relatively fast turnaround even with the timeskip between s7 and 8 and accounting for the fact that she’s probably being mindful of her biological clock. even if you don’t like chase and cameron together, you have to admit that cameron was so much happier when she was with him than she was before they got together; this obviously wasn’t JUST down to chase, but when things were good they were good. i think she gets to chicago, determined to have a new fresh start, and is very, very lonely, and tries to fill that hole by moving on as soon as she can. new job, new apartment, new friends, new man. chase got breakup hair and she got a breakup LIFE. it’s not that i think cameron regrets the divorce or her decision to leave princeton—she’s probably do the exact same thing if given the choice again—but moreso that i think she just wants someone else to tell her in that first year that she did the right thing, that she was in the right, that there was no coming back for chase or for their relationship. and nobody ever does tell her that. so it’s easier for her to try and move on as fast as possible and stay on cordial but distant terms with chase and act like the whole thing was a blip. that’s not how she feels about it at all, but i think that’s probably how she tries to present herself. in time this does become more genuine, but that first year? yeah, it’s ROUGH.

all this said: i think she probably does have an easier go of it than chase. unlike him, she’s not surrounded by people who knew them as a couple, people they both worked with for years who went to their wedding. she’s not living in their old apartment. there’s nobody in chicago who knows chase, who knows house by anything other than reputation. she still has both of her parents, and seems to have a decent enough relationship with them and her brother for it not to warrant much detail (unlike foreman or chase). it’s easier for her to move on this way, which i guess is exactly why cameron wanted to move to chicago in the first place.

[thefandomenchantress]

Who Explored with Who in Chapter 1?

This is a question that has plagued my mind for a very long time, so I'm finally making a post about who I think teamed up with who!

There are three categories: Confirmed, probable, and guess. Confirmed means we saw it confirmed in the episode, probable means I think we can say that it probably happened, and guess is me taking a shot in the dark.

Teruko and Charles: Confirmed

Since Teruko is the character we follow, we saw that she explored with Charles the whole time (except when he ran off for a few minutes to make the weapons list). So they're confirmed.

Xander and David: Confirmed

The reason Teruko is forced to explore with Charles in the first place is because Xander confessed he was ditching her to explore with David. So this pairing is confirmed as well.

Arturo and Levi: Confirmed

Teruko and Charles run into these two in the infirmary, and Arturo states they spent their time together while he bandaged Levi's arm because of the injury the spikes caused. They're also confirmed.

Arei and Whit: Confirmed

Teruko and Charles walk in on them having a toilet paper fight exploring the bathroom together during a CG. Since Whit built a whole toilet paper fort, they were probably in there together for a while. So we can also confirm them as a pair.

Veronika and Ace: Probable

I've always been pretty confident about this one, even though it's never shown. Not only did Veronika and Ace's usual chapter 1 counterparts, Arturo and Levi team up, leaving them to instead team up with each other, but their relationship being established now also sets up Veronika forcing Ace into her movie night. After spending so much time exploring with him, she knew how easily scared he was and that he'd be fun to bring.

Min and Eden: Probable

At first, I was going to put Hu and Eden together, since they're friends later, but in the end I decided on these two, and I'm actually pretty confident about it. Eden probably would've put a little more effort into including Hu in the baking activity if they really were already friends, and Min actually does attend the baking activity despite it not being school-related. Min already being friends with or liking Eden makes that more believable, and them having a friendship or spending a lot of time together during chapter 1 makes Eden's guilt over Min's death also make more sense. If they already had a friendly connection and spent time together outside of that one baking scene, of course Eden feels way worse than if she accidentally caused the death of someone she only talked to once or twice.

J and Nico: Guess

I figured J will probably go with who she thinks is the coolest, and Nico's the only one I could justify her thinking might be kinda cool out of who I had left. Hu's too motherly (maybe reminding J of her Mom a little too much), and Rose...well, she might be the second-best pick, but her sleepiness might frustrate J, so I figured Nico was my best bet. They might be kinda socially awkward, but they're blunt in a way I think J would appreciate (and it's not like J's not socially awkward sometimes either). And I think Nico would end up liking J a fair bit, too. So I've decided to think they explored together.

Rose and Hu: Guess

Other than being the only two I had left, I figured they still work pretty well as a pairing. Hu's a lot more patient than some of the other students, so her being the one to put up with Rose constantly falling asleep mid-conversation would make sense. Plus, Hu says that the pairs are a matter of safety and makes Teruko team up with Charles instead of being nice and doing it herself. Maybe that's because she wanted to protect Rose, who she thinks could quite easily fall into a trap, and didn't want to leave her in Teruko's or especially Charles' hands. If she had teamed up with, say, Eden instead, maybe she would've been more comfortable helping Teruko out and going with Charles for her in her pursuit to be useful.

---

Aaaand that's it! If anyone has any other ideas for who paired up with who, I'd love to hear them. I'm actually pretty happy with my guesses, but I guess I'll never know if I'm right.

[lostyesterday]

I’m generally a Star Trek femslash person, especially when it comes to rarepairs, however, I do have a few het rarepairs that I like and think more people should give a second thought to:

Guinan/Picard: They have an intense and unique dynamic in canon and most of their interactions have such an enjoyable tension to them. Their mysterious history and the refusal of canon to ever entirely define what their relationship means to them is also very appealing to me. Also, have you seen their interactions in Time’s Arrow?

Deanna/Worf: I do like Deanna/Will (and especially Deanna/Worf/Riker), but I think Deanna and Worf together have such an underrated dynamic and canon really fucked them over by primarily ignoring their established dynamic when they actually got together. I find the idea of their relationship beginning in connection with Alexander interesting, but even aside from that, they have such fun interactions and genuine respect for each other and the actors have great chemistry in my opinion.

Jadzia/Quark: This is number one on my list of ships I liked until canon ruined them. Quark being obsessively in unrequited love with Jadzia all along was a bad writing choice. Clearly they were friends with benefits. To me, neither of them was ever in love, they’re literally just weird friends who have sex sometimes.

Janeway/Tuvok: It’s about the loyalty and devotion regardless of the circumstances. It’s about the intensity of their love for each other, the softness in Janeway’s eyes when she looks at him. I admit I like to consider their dynamic more with Chakotay in the mix (JCT forever), but Janeway/Tuvok alone is very underrated.

Harry/B’Elanna: I shipped them from the time B’Elanna first called Harry Starfleet (affectionate). I love a ship with characters who both contrast and parallel each other – they have seemingly opposite relationships with Starfleet and extremely different life circumstances, but they both work really well together and connect deeply anyway. Also best friends to lovers <3.

[applebuttercringe]

Arcane episode 8 immediate thoughts

-NGL this is not the direction I thought Mel was going in.

-cool that she is a magical girl though, and made of gold.

-oh it’s the girl her mom killed.

-Mel’s outfit is very fan service

-Leblanc

-this is a lot to introduce in the second to last episode

-Well that didn’t take a lot of convincing…

-Richters funeral

-Time for Viktors T-shot

-Is Ambessa gonna lecture him into living?

-Viktor Machine Herald voice!

-No Viktor you are anti war.

-Oh, so Sky is her own will, disturbed by his actions.

-Do we not see Caitlyn’s reaction to Jayce.

-Ah she thought Loris was Vander

-Caitlyn’s haircut is hot.

-Is she still with Maddie?

-Maddie knows she is about to be cheated on

-Jinx isn’t eating, she is suicidal.

-the hair down

-The Jinx pain train is brutal, this is a lot even for Arcane.

-The Jayce Mel reunion?

-If Mel is untwined with the Arcane then Jayce’s mission will be to end her as well.

-Excuse me what?

-Viktor achieved the ultimate tenderness form? Mannequin.

-Why not come as Huck?

-Well, the Polycule is back together again. This time it is a three way breakup.

-Mel knows how to do the magic at will now?

-Why not explain what you saw? It might not change anything, but he didn’t even try.

-Viktor wants his evil BF back

-Aw man. Villain Viktor. That idea sucks.

-Once again Jayce rushes to Mel lol.

-Is Viktor gonna get broken up with on the astral plane?

-Jinx is finally hearing and seeing Silco hallucinations.

-Killing is a cycle and yet in Ep 7 Vi dying ended the cycle and healed its wound?

-Doesn’t the metaphor not work for Zaun? How do they walk away. They are trapped in the mines working forced labor and banned from Piltover institutions. Is the moral to become passive? Cease to care? How do you forgive and walk away when the crimes are ongoing and inescapable?

-The hug is good

-IS JINX GOMNA KILL HERSELF?

-That’s her resolution?

-Jayce’s self made leg brace perfectly fixing his untreated wound is bullshit.

-The shoulder armor is a CHOICE Jayce.

-How did he manage to get them together? They hate each other? His proposals for peace don’t work but he can get them talking and civil from off screen? Arcane is really abandoning the Zaun v Piltover thing. Like, straight up pretending it was never happening.

-Caitlyn gasses these people like a month ago.

-Yeah, start treating the Undercity as people so you can draft them. Whatever.

-Why the emphasis on the pianist

-I knew they were gonna abandon it but this is unreal to watch.

-Sassing your gf during her mental breakdown is insane

-Caitvi sex scene in a prison cell lol

-Maybe care that this is cheating

-Freaky~

-Damn

-The Tumblrinas are gonna love this

-The Medea’s scene is good

-She can touch embers with her bare hands

-Ambessa you’ve been trying to use Hextech for magic, TF do you mean you hate magic.

-Is there a delay on Viktor saying stuff and the clones saying it? Cause that happened a while ago.

-The song. So this was real Sky all along. She just really wanted him to use the Arcane this way. If this was the intention she should have had more S1 screentime to build up their relationship.

-He is letting them kill her again

-He’s gonna become Warwick?! That is a twist

-EW THE FEET SHOT

-He’s kindred? It isn’t a mask? It’s his head?

Ok so thought: This is a fumble for me. It feels like they are abandoning all the pre established plot and just rewriting the characters into new plots and then rushing those new plots to hell and back. They aren’t finishing what they started. The Jinx pain train is disappointing. Like, more Jinx being self loathing and suicidal, cool. Likely she will have a turn around in this last episode but. IDK. Did I like the time I spent with Arcane? Yes. Is it peak anymore? No. Sorry.