#and some conscious thought went into this when i was writing it

[hasbro-necromancer]

had a dream i was trying to tell someone about nu jazz. it was like yeah, this is a polish group called Skalpel, they’ve got some really huge grooves and understated jazz instrumentation. lots of interesting breaks and samples. really cool and imo a good and simple intro. and this is Tortoise, they came up as one of the groups pioneering "post-rock" music, with post-rock used here in the most literal sense, before the genre became synonymous (and saturated) with lengthy, cinematic pieces with huge crescendos and emotional climaxes and more ambient interludes—and stagnating under its own weight rather quickly. the "post-" prefix comes from the way that they used traditional rock instruments like drums, bass (tortoise actually had two drummers, two bassists, and a percussionist, which is an insane lineup), guitars to create music that is very much not rock, and in large part a response to it, alongside, in particular, bands like Slint and Don Cab[allero]—although how "political" or "academic" or formal their intentions were in that regard is beside the point, and i'd guess not that contrived either. btw, it's always really annoying to me when people get snooty and try to dunk on genres like post-punk and such, saying stuff like "how can it be post-punk when a lot of it was coming out at the same time as regular punk music," and "post-punk is such a meaningless term because so many of the bands don't even sound anything like each other. like Joy Division and The B-52's and Devo don't sound anything alike, so why are they all post-punk? back in my day we just called it 'new wave' anyways!" "post-" doesn't just signify that it comes after chronologically; that's not it's use in relation to art: it connotes a different approach using the conventions of a genre, to provide as surface level a description as possible. for ex: postmodern literature takes the ideas of modernist art and stretches them to their absolute limit; post-punk keeps the punk energy and ethos and applies that energy in a different, more creative direction; hell, even Borp's combo video Postmodern Smash (which has sadly been privated on youtube) showcases his unique playstyle that emphasizes fundamentals and rejects Melee players' obsession with tech skill—obviously not "chronologically following" modern smash, as he was playing alongside people who honed their tech skill and ultimately greatly surpassed him—it was just his novel approach. anyways yeah, Tortoise grew steadily jazzier over the years and helped shape nu jazz in a huge way. "Glass Museum" off Millions Now Living... is a personal favorite for that, the vibraphone and spacious chords and bass vi solo a clear precursor to the moods and structure that bands would draw from heavily in the future. and especially on TNT, with the addition of Jeff Parker on guitar, they let their jazz chops shine through. Jaga Jazzist is probably my favorite band that falls under this umbrella. they're a norwegian septet or octet or nonet or something wild like that, and they make super proggy and intricate jazz that's an absolute blast to sift through. The Cinematic Orchestra is another really cool one. their album Man with a Movie Camera is meant to be a soundtrack for the 1929 soviet silent film of the same name, and it works remarkably well for that. super cool piece of work. the bass clarinet solo on "Drunken Tune" (along with the bass clarinet part from Jaga Jazzist's "Airborne" off A Living Room Hush and Beefheart's noisy noodlings on Trout Mask) really made me want to pick up the instrument. Portico Quartet are another really cool example, especially with how minimal and textural they are. Mammal Hands are closer to the pure jazz group side of things, but i'd say they still count. maybe you could throw the Esbjörn Svensson Trio in for how minimal and spacey they are, too. honestly, just check out Ninja Tune and sift through some of the bands on their roster. probably the best list of artists representative of the genre.

[luxraydyne]

wait, dude, wait. aini was supposed to be cosmic horror??

girl, seriously? i dunnooooo i’m not really feeling it fellas

[monstersflashlight]

If I'm not pushing my luck, can you write something about you being the first hairy person that an elf has been with? Cause I was thinking about it and what if the first human(s) they've been with all shaved and they thought it was standard for us like it was for them, having no hair and all? I really do think they would be both confused and very curious/enthusiastic about it. And what if you were a bit self conscious about it too? 😪 Thank you I'm in love with your stories!!

Hi there! For everyone who hastn't read it, here's the question that started this idea. Enjoy!

Full bush

Elf x fem!reader || oral sex, pussy worship, body hair appreciation

When you got together you thought he already knew all he needed to know about humans. He was with a couple humans before you, two males and one female, so you thought he already knew... But you were wrong.

First time he saw you naked he stared. And stared. And stared some more to the point you got self conscious about it and ended up putting your clothes back on. You slept very unconfortab that night, and he said nothing. You might have cried a tiny bit. Next day he stared at you even with your clothes on, his eyes fixated in your genitals as you looked at him like he was the weird one (which he was). Later that day he broke down and asked you why did you have hair, if it was some kind of birth defect. You almost threw him out the house, but you breathed deeply and proceeded to explain to him that humans had body hair, that it was normal. He then explained that his previous humans had shaved or something because they were as hairless as elves and that's why he was so surprised when you took off your clothes. You understood his reasoning, but you were still a bit self-conscious, human culture already told you it was bad for you to have body hair, but you weren't about to let your elf boyfriend get away with it, too.

So you didn't take your clothes in front of him. Every time you slept together you put your pj's, not looking at him, and went to sleep with that. You weren't a fan of sleeping with clothes, but a woman had to do what a woman had to do. You could feel him hard behind you, but you weren't ready to face that disappointment and staring at your full bush.

But he wasn't having any of that.

By the fifth time you stayed at his house, he stopped you as you were getting undressed. You looked up at him in surprise, just to see his face flushed and a big tent in his sweatpants. "I- I want to see you," he stuttered.

"What?" You asked, your shirt halfway up your torso.

"I- I want to see your body hair," he confessed in a low tone. He looked so cute at the moment, but you were so fucking confused. You thought he hated your body hair.

You couldn't get the surprise out of your voice: "You do?"

"Yes. I- I liked it." He grabbed his dick and readjusted it, the tip pocking at the waistband of his sweatpants. Your mouth was salivating just looking at him shirtless and with those sinful grey sweatpants.

"You liked it?" You asked, your whole body vibrating with anticipation.

"Very much so..." He said, lowering his pants to let you see his erection already leaking profusely. You licked your lips and got undressed.

He stared and stared, and when your panties were finally on the ground, he licked his lips like you were his next snack. And good goddess if you weren't. He threw you on the bed and went down on you for hours. Your legs trembling around his head as he went to town and told you how great you were, how good you tasted and how glad he was that he discovered you had body hair. He sounded mesmerized by the fact and it made you blush as hard as ever as you came against his lips again.

By the time he was done, there was a pool of your juices under you and his face was completely drenched, but what surprised you more was the puddle of cum under him. You asked and he blushed hard, running to the bathroom to get you a towel.

Later, you discovered that he got so excited about you and your body hair and your pussy that he came at least four times while he ground against the mattress and eat you out. It was so hot thinking he got so worked up just by you being you that you had to push him down and blow him until he was crying.

You've never been so glad of his elf stamina.

[zephyrchama]

Writing prompt: If MC had been a sheep since they came to the Devildom and then suddenly became human again, would the brothers recognize them? (Under the cut, all 7 brothers, SFW, written in second person.)

Others might have written about this before, it's a fun concept. In the beginning of the manga it's explained that MC appears to be a sheep for reasons. I like to think that they gradually change back and their sheep characteristics slowly become more human, while maintaining sheep-like qualities for a while, but it's more fun to write about if they just. suddenly. change back all at once, ta-da.

Humans sometimes face adverse effects when traversing realms. The unnatural spatial movement has equally unnatural consequences for human bodies, which is why you found yourself in the body of a small pink sheep when meeting the brothers for the first time.

Solomon and Diavolo say it will wear off in time, as you adjust to the Devildom. Your body will return to normal eventually, but they don’t know exactly how long. Its been quite some time now and everyone just accepts that this is how things are. You are a small pink sheep, and you are family.

You expected a gradual transformation - to slowly regain human features over time as you got used to life in the Devildom. That didn’t happen. Day by day nothing changed, until the transformation happened all at once.

Lucifer

Lucifer had seen your photo on the exchange student paperwork months ago. A generic little square image stapled to the application, hardly better than a driver’s license photo. He might have taken your paperwork out of the student council room and put it in his private office desk for safekeeping, or to look from time to time to remind himself you really were human.

He was the first one you thought to tell. A big change like this was surely worth a visit to his room, even if he was busy. You knocked your usual knock. Now that you were human-sized, you could reach the middle of the door, but the lack of hooves meant your knock was quieter. There were several seconds of silence. Maybe he didn’t hear you. You went to knock again, but a familiar gruff voice called out “come in,” from the other side so you reached for the handle.

There were piles of record book and stacks of forms upon the desk, but the eldest brother was still visible from the doorway. As if sensing something was different, he paused mid-writing and looked up. Lucifer was taken aback for a moment but quickly regained his usual composed poker face. You tried to hide a smile. Seeing him surprised like that was a rare occasion.

“I see you’ve finally gotten used to it here. Congratulations.” Maybe it was the soft light inside the House of Lamentation, but Lucifer thought you looked far better in person than in that photo. He put down his pen and crossed his hands under his chin. It almost masked the way he leaned slightly forward to get a better look at you over the large desk. “Do you feel alright?”

You nodded, it was strange to adjust to your old height again but you were glad to be back in your body. “You’re sure you feel fine? Come here,” he commanded.

Sitting next to him as a sheep while he worked had become so natural, yet doing so now as a human made you feel so self conscious. Your eyes wandered around the room, avoiding his gaze until he grabbed your shoulder and said “look at me.”

To you, he was just being overprotective. A routine check up on the exchange student to make sure they’re healthy after a sudden transformation. Maybe being close enough to feel his breath each time he exhaled was also necessary. To Lucifer, it was the time he’d been waiting months for. To see your glossy hair, not just a ball of wool, and study the contours of your face. How smooth your cheeks were and the way you politely kept up an embarrassed smile. Yes, the real deal was much nicer than a photograph.

Mammon

Mammon had no idea who you were, at first. You were sitting on the couch, wasting time while waiting for the next family meal. The front door slammed open loudly and closed with a bang. Mammon finally strolled into the living room after a long evening of make-up lessons at school.

“When’s dinner ready? I’m starvin’!” His boisterous voice made the house a little livelier. “And hey, where’s--”

He stammered when his eyes met yours and his voice faltered back down to a normal indoor volume. “Didn’ know we had someone vistin’. Hmph.”

Your jaw dropped. Was he really this dense? He couldn’t recognize you despite all the time you spend together? You turned around to watch over the back of the couch as Mammon walked to the dining room, then left to go down the hallway that led to your room. Several moments later he was in the kitchen. You could hear voices, but not what was said.

After some time he came meandering back to the living room. With one hand on his hip, he remained standing and leaned against the other couch. He was agitated and impatient, and with no one else around he turned to you.

It must have been five seconds, max, but it felt like you stared at each other for an hour. You pouted, glaring at the idiot who thought you seemed like an oddly familiar and comforting presence. “Who’re ya here to see? If it’s The Great Mammon, I’m a busy guy. I can’t just stand around. WIthout compensation, I’m leavin’.”

“Mammon,” you said. Just one word. You sounded hurt. It made his heart skip a beat, he’d recognize that voice anywhere.

“Huh? What’d you say?” He heard you loud and clear. He just wanted you to speak again, to hear your voice once more and confirm he wasn’t imagining things.

Of all the ways you imagined showing off your human body to him, this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Maybe you were wrong for expecting him to recognize you no matter what, but just like him you would never admit that.

“Oh my gosh, you’re a fool! Here’s your ‘compensation!’” Swiftly, you launched a decorative cushion square at his stomach. Your strike is nothing to him, but you landed an emotional blow when you went to storm off.

He grabbed your wrist before you got out of arm’s reach. Forcefully at first, but quickly realized he had to loosen up to avoid hurting you. “Wh- huh? Is that you? Why didn’t you say anything!? When did this happen?”

Walking away was futile as Mammon was rooted to the spot. “That’s really you, right? This ain’t a joke?”

He pulled you in towards him and spun you around to look at your face. You were mad and upset and relieved that he stopped you and embarrassed at having so many emotions at once. He finally knew, you're his human, alright.

Leviathan

It took a while for things to click for Leviathan.

He first saw you from afar on campus. He wanted to steer clear from you., like with every other student. Though he did do a double-take and stare.

He’d never seen you (well, proper human you) around before, and you looked just like the customizable characters you always created in his games. Same hair style, same eyes, same sense of style. His P2 was real. It was uncanny and he couldn’t wait to tell you all about seeing your player character wandering around campus.

That’s when he realized he hadn’t seen you all day. The sheep you. You were always easy to find due to being bogarted by his flashy brothers. You were one of the few to casually greet him every day as assurance he was welcome at RAD. You were human, and humans weren’t sheep. Didn’t Lucifer say something about that when you first arrived? Oh.

When Leviathan didn’t show up to classes after lunch you went looking for him. It was a tough quest. He wasn’t in any of the usual hiding places and wasn’t answering his DDD. He really didn’t want to see you. Or, well, he really did, but clearly wasn’t prepared to. You finally found him on a bench, shrouded by overgrown tree branches and isolated far on the outskirts of RAD’s campus.

Low muttering gave away his hiding space, unintelligible as he was biting down hard on his thumbnail while he raved. His hair was a tousled mess and from time to time he’d jump up to flail or shake his head.

“Lev-”

You tried to greet him and got met with a glorious, high-pitched shriek. You pushed on anyway.

“Levi! I’ve been looking for you. Notice anything different today?”

“You! Y-y-y-youuu!!” He could not look you in the eye, or look at you at all, but your familiar voice made everything clear. It took some time for him to speak again.

”You sat in my bed! You sat in my lap!” He referenced all the times you’d stay up late gaming with him. He never objected to that before. “You! You did all that! How could you?”


”I… thought we were friends?”
”Well I didn’t know you looked like that!”

All the wholesome memories Levi had of you two bonding, demon and sheep, suddenly changed. No longer were you a cute fuzzball sitting on his legs or snug against him like a plush while he slept. You were a cute human, with human features, sitting between his legs and being held against him in bed. Overnight you went from essentially a security plush to a real person, and he was having trouble adjusting.

“You lied to me! Aagh!” He kicked his legs and pulled at his hair in anxious frustration, his thoughts branching in dozens of conflicting paths at once, so you did the only thing you knew to calm him. A big hug.

He froze right up. You stubbornly told him “I’m still me, you know.”

“But you look…” For the first time he tried looking right at you, but all you noticed was the intense blush across his face. It made you smile.

Satan

Great Detective Satan picked up on your change quickly. It wasn’t hard to deduce for anyone who paid close attention to mysteries, like he did.

You hadn’t asked for any help that morning reaching for things high up. You didn’t ask anyone to carry your heavy school books. Most obviously, you were sitting in the dining room enjoying a hearty piece of toast when he also sat down to eat breakfast. Even though he didn’t physically recognize you, who else would be fearlessly sitting at the House of Lamentation’s breakfast table and happily greeting the Avatar of Wrath?

Rather than the scrambled eggs, Satan was most interested in you. He didn’t hide the way he stared. “You look different.” Slowly, eyes never wavering, he took the chair beside you.

”Oh yeah! Check it out, I changed back!” You went to stand up and show off, but first needed to wipe the crumbs off your face. Too bad the napkin just slid off your lap and onto the floor. “Ah, hold on, I’ll show you in a sec. It’ll be worth it.” You didn’t want to look sloppy on your first day as a human again, and although hands were easier to eat with than hooves, you had prioritized munching on delicious breakfast food over eating cleanly. Without another clean napkin in arm’s reach, you went to pick up what had fallen.

“Allow me.” Napkin unfolded, Satan leaned in close. Before you could acknowledge his offer he had a hand wrapped around your chin. The heat of his fingers could be felt on your lips through the cloth. He spent an unnecessarily long time tracing the contours around your mouth. A cleaning this thorough would surely ward crumbs off your face for at least a week.

A full minute later, Satan was satisfied and leaned back in his own chair. He didn’t stop staring though. You gave a heartfelt, “thanks! Now let me show you,” and stood up to twirl.

Asmodeus

Asmodeus recognized you right away. He was the only one not taken aback, and was thrilled to see you returned to full glory. “You look just like your socials!”

Not one to miss out on trends, Asmodeus had signed up for a few human realm social media sites. He considered it to be the cultural exchange aspect of your exchange program. On particularly slow evenings he’d even scroll through several years of your image posts and save the cutest ones. Asmodeus was very well acquainted with both your human and sheep looks.

“Do you have anything to wear other than your uniform? We really should trim your hair, too. That didn’t stop growing while you were a sheep, huh?” He was immediately all over you, twirling your hair in his long fingers while circling like a predator locked on to its prey.

“Oh really?” You hadn’t noticed your hair being overly long. You were just happy to be back to normal. “Yeah I’ve got plenty of clothes, but my hair? Are there, like, demon barbers around here? Can you help?”

“Leave it to me! And your nails!” His hand found yours and soon your fingers were entwined. He lifted them up, cheerily exclaiming “how about matching with me?” as he pulled you towards his room. It was hard to keep up with him, but at least you stood a chance now unlike before in that small body. He noticed, and with a cheeky grin turned to ask “you're not still having trouble? I’ll carry you, you know. And when you need another trim, you come to me first.”

Beelzebub

Beelzebub lucked out. He came into the dining hall for the most important meal of the day, just in time to see you twirl for Satan, proclaiming “I’m back!”

Your voice was the same, and you smelled the same as ever. He let out an astonished “woah” while taking the seat across from you. This new form was much better than the sheep one. His fears of accidentally hurting you with too much strength somewhat abated. Though, in his eyes you were still tiny.

“Morning!” you greeted. “Notice anything new?”
”Boy, do I.” Through a mouthful of food, he asked “how did this happen?”


“Dunno, it must have happened overnight. I just woke up and bam.” You flashed a pair of finger guns at Beel and he laughed.

After breakfast, you two became alone in the dining room. You piled up the dirty dishes and Beelzebub carried them into the kitchen as you followed behind, saying “we better hurry, I didn’t realize it was this late already.”

“Yeah.” He placed everything in the sink, then turned to face you. He held out his arms. “Ready to go?”

Carrying you to school appears to have become a habit. Beel didn’t even hesitate to gently lift you up like you were weightless. It was an everyday occurrence when you were a sheep. But back in your old body with longer legs, having his arm wrap around your waist without a layer of thick wool to cushion you, things felt different. “Y’know, I might be able to walk to school today.”

“Hm?” Beelzebub took a moment to process this. Like he had completely forgotten you got your body back in that short span of time. “Oh! Sorry. Force of habit.” Almost dejectedly, he crouched to set you back on the ground. You reached around to grab his shoulders anyway.

“Well, I never said you had to let go.”

Belphegor

Belphegor thought he was still sleeping. Your human figure was a familiar sight he had seen multiple times. It was how you manifested in your dreams, after all. Sometimes when you napped together he would pick up glimpses of your dreams. On this day he had made it to RAD with time to spare and was dozing off in his seat when you arrived.

Unreservedly, he dragged himself several feet over to you and wrapped his arms around your waist, head on your shoulder right next to your ear. “Hey.” This was a dream anyway, might as well enjoy it.

“Belphie, are you still asleep?” you asked. Physical contact wasn’t so bad, but it got embarrassing in public like this. With a futile shake you tried to rouse him. “Look! Did you notice? I’m not a sheep anymore!”

“Mm, yeah. You’re you.” Avoiding the lights, he buried his eyes in your neck, wishing it was a little darker. He liked you like this. But if this was a dream, why did the light bother him? Why was he still so tired? “Is it… Hm? What time is it?”

“Time for class to start soon. If you fall asleep again Lucifer is gonna kick your butt. Wake up.” You roughly ruffled his hair, causing him to groan and cling to your waist tighter. It did succeed in getting him to raise his head, at least.

After a sleepy pause, Belphegor seemed to grasp his surroundings. He squinted and leaned back, sizing you up. You couldn't tell if he was waking up or preparing to slouch down again until he spoke. “You really changed back? For real?”

“Yep!”

“Heh, good for you.” He pat your sides and let go. It tickled a little. Now, while you were distracted, was his turn to ruffle your hair. Payback disguised as playful praise.

[lovepeachh]

Chair.

Jason Todd x plus size! reader smut

In which Jason is the chair.

or

In which you aren't too heavy to sit on your bf's face after all.

Warnings: 18+ content, unprotected oral sex, cunnilingus, face sitting, use of the word fat (internal dialogue, not in a negative way, it's just that I, as a plus size woman, use that word and if that upsets you I get it, don't read but i refuse to let this be another 'you're not fat, you're beautiful, let me dick you down to show you that you're not fat and ugly' fic, because fat and beautiful are not exclusive terms. I love you, and I love how you look. You're beautiful, and it's not in spite of your body.)

Dividers from here

A.N.: Sorry for not writing recently, things have been a little wild. I had a concussion, a tropical storm came, both my sisters totalled their cars, got my wisdom teeth out, and now another hurricane is on the way. Anyway, here's some smut.

"Babe, there's no way I'm doing that, I'll hurt you. I'm too heavy." It wasn't that you were self conscious of your weight or anything, but you didn't exactly want Jason to die again, this time because of you and your fat girl pussy.

He raises an eyebrow at you, as if to say 'So you think I'm weak?'

"Baby, don't give me that, I'm a big boy."

"Well I'm a big girl and I'm not gonna suffocate you or break your neck."

"I mean, it's a lot better than how I went out the first time."

A silence.

"Not funny."

He sits you on his lap.

"Come on sweetie, we can just try it. And I'll tap your thigh three times if I need air or for you to get up for any reason. Scout's honor."

You roll your eyes. "You were never a scout."

"Eh, I was a robin. Close enough. Please?"

"Ugh fine. I'll sit on your face. Happy?"

It's a matter of minutes before he rips off your clothes and pulls you right on top of his face, eating you out like a starving man at a Thanksgiving buffet.

Goddamn. He was good at this.

He hooks his arms around your thighs and holds you in place while he laps at you until you writhe and squirm.

"Jay!"

You're not quite sure if the sound leaving his mouth is a laugh or a moan, but the vibration has.you seeing stars.

He laps and sucks at you as you near the edge.

"Ah-!"

All thoughts of being too heavy leave your mind. Because this man wants it bad. And he's tongue fucking you too good for you to think straight.

Your hips buck as he licks into you over and and over until you're coming all over his desperate face.

He laps up your release and keeps stimulating your abused cunt until you start to tremble. Then he releases you.

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and presses a sticky kiss to your cheek.

"Still think you're too heavy?" he asks.

"Not for you." .

He laughs. "So we can do this again?"

You roll your eyes. "You're such a whore."

He kisses you. "Only for you, sweetheart."

You won't be doubting him again anytime soon. After all, what's a bit of fat when your boyfriend is built like a literal tank.

You shift in his arms, feeling something against your leg.

Oh.

"Care to help me out with that, sweetheart?"

[pepperyduck]

some of the jjk men with a plus size/chubby girlfriend :3

warnings: my self indulgent writing, talk about insecurities, a little bit of suggestiveness on gojo & geto’s, not proofread. (18+ mdni!)

notes: i got a new vape today!

part 2 | masterlist

gojo:

gojo never really expected himself to be with someone plus size, in fact, no one did. he’s got the looks and personality of a cocky bastard that could get anyone he wanted. but there was just something when he first laid eyes on you — your pretty face, pretty figure, pretty thighs…he was immediately entranced. he approached you with the most confident smile and posture, flirting terribly and asked for your number.

he couldn’t care less about what his friends said and how meanly the jealous girls who wanted him stared at you; he felt like a king having someone as pretty as you latched onto his arm everywhere he went.

he buys you new clothes all the time, taking you into each and every store you look at — and if they don’t have your size, he makes a point to give passive aggressive comments about how “close minded” companies are. he becomes a retail worker’s worst nightmare if they dare upset you by saying they don’t carry your size. but, don’t get him wrong, he loves it when you buy something and go home to try it on, and it’s just a little bit too tight for your liking. oh, your sweet, sweet satoru is practically losing his goddamn mind seeing how that dress squeezes your tummy so well or how those shorts make your thighs look even softer. he has to control himself, and it’s so hard, he wants to just pounce on you in the very moment you turn around and mumble, “it’s too tight,” with a frown.

if you’re ever feeling insecure, he gives you a not-so-gentle reminder about how he’s literally the strongest man in the world and you’d have to be something special for him to be with you. he’s kind of an arrogant asshole about it, though. but do not fret, he will take his sweet time showing you everything he adores about you in the mirror all the while making you feel pleasure like you’ve never felt with any other parter you’ve had.

nanami:

oh boy, where to start with nanami.

he didn’t really have the chance to think about what he’d prefer in a woman, but when satoru finally convinced him to go out and drink, he popped the question since kento was severely lacking in romantic partners at his grown age. it took a lot of prying, and gojo finally snapped with a, “if you could screw anyone in here, who would it be?” nanami had to take a look around the room for a while, when his finger finally landed on a table consisting of you and your friends. you were out drinking, feeling nervous about the black dress you borrowed from your friend, and kento couldn’t look away when he found you.

“ohhh, the one in the green?” gojo asked, a sly grin on his face.

“no.”

“the one in blue with the long hair?”

“no. her.” kento’s finger got even more focused on you.

he thinks you are quite literally the epitome of “wifey material” (a phrase learned from gojo the night he first saw you) and he makes sure you know that. he just thinks you’re so…breathtaking every time he sees you. the honest man he is, he compliments you pretty much any time he thinks of it. he adores seeing you in those babydoll nightgowns, the pretty ones that are all silky and soft, with the way your hips fill them out and make it ride up every time you move. by the time you move in with him, it’s all you’ll be wearing around the house.

he also takes up cooking with you, learning your favorite meals and teaching you how to prepare the foods he likes the most. it becomes a sweet bonding experience for the both of you. and if you’re feeling self-conscious about your body, he feels as if he’s not doing enough to build you up, and he’ll leave you sweet notes in your lunch, on the mirror, in your car, etc. he’ll make you feel so loved and beautiful with that alone.

geto:

suguru thought you were just a sweet little thing when he met you for the first time. when he came into your job along with a few of the curses he’s obtained, he noticed how your eyes kept flashing to them but you still were so kind when you talked with him. he caught on quickly — and when he knew you could see curses while looking so adorably cute, he knew he just had to have you.

he thinks you look just like the paintings of renaissance women, the glamorous and gorgeous ones often depicted as goddesses or angels. although it’s cliché, he fully believes in the whole “more of you to love” thing. he enjoys how soft you feel in his arms, never failing to give you longing hugs from behind just so he can feel your squishy backside and snake his arms around to touch your tummy. he dreams of making you have a real mom bod.

and lord help anyone who dares to make you feel bad about the way you look. he spends more time berating those who hurt your feelings than actually comforting you. he’ll end up making you feel better from the stupid things he says about those people being “monkeys.”

“stupid fools shouldn’t even be allowed on the same ground as you, filthy monkeys, i should make sure their death is more gruesome than they ever imagined for hurting you.” he’d say, causing you to break your pitiful persona and begin to giggle. he doesn’t really understand why you think it’s so funny, though.

taglist: @kundere20000000 @missakward123 @cherriee-ee

let me know if you want to be added!

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Hi !!!! I’m sorry if this is bothering you and if so you can totally ignore this but…

I’ve been thinking about how Ghost would react to reader gradually pulling away from him because she gained some weight and is self conscious and ashamed and doesn’t want to be seen by him, so sculpted and beautiful… but of course he’s feeling low because he wants to be close to reader and so he asks and she finally explains it to him (ready to be broken up with…)…. And I’d love to read your take on it !

You can make it female or gender neauteal I don’t really care !!!! Thank you anyway ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Wildflowers Grow in Ruins

(Ghost x F!Reader, word count: 5 k)

Summary: Reader tries to break up with Ghost because she thinks she's not good enough for him.

Tags/warnings: FLUFF, soft sensual smut 🔞, hurt/comfort, light angst, Jealous!Ghost, Soft!Ghost, self-loathing & self-body shaming. Good girl talk/praise kink. Reader is female and wears a skirt for smut plot purposes.

A/N: I hope you like this take & I hope you don't mind that I tweaked this request just a little bit!) Also: JFC I'm wordy. The "I need to explain why they're fucking!" meme comes to mind every time I write anything.

Wars are exhausting. 

You know fighting for something can empower people. Fighting against something usually just depletes your strength.

But waging a war against yourself… 

Now that is pure hell. 

It started somewhere in your youth. You thought adulthood would take it away; that reason and tolerance would take it away. You were supposed to feel more confident in yourself, more positive about life. And for a moment, you thought you might just succeed.

But standing beside a god of war is no easy feat.

He came into your life like a walking myth, swept you away, and you only laughed as you went. It was fun at first. He was supposed to be your savior, the solution to all your problems. If a man like him found you attractive, perhaps it was the world that was crooked and not you.

But then you got soft: you started to gain pounds. Meanwhile, he became even more magnificent. It reminded you that it had all been just a dream.

Perhaps it was his eyes that seemed to worship you, that seemed to look past your every flaw. Perhaps it was the hands which never seemed to get enough of your skin. Whatever it was, it was too much. And at the same time, never enough.

The day has finally come to let him go.

You think yourself heroic. It's like it should be: it's only right that you finally release him to someone better than you.

But inside, the noble feelings twist and turn and curl around your throat and stuff your stomach full of ice - the kind they fill glasses of mojito with. The drink you'll always remember him by because he teased you about it: that you wanted an ice-cold summer drink even in the middle of winter.

Now you feel cold all over, and wish he could warm you like he used to. 

You would forsake all the mojitos of the world to keep him. You would renounce the whole drink if it came to that; if you could make him yours.

But he's not yours. He never was: he was just on loan to give you a taste of what it would be like to have a man like him. That taste should be more than enough for a lifetime. You should feel grateful.

So why is it so hard to let go?

The key on the front door turns, and your heart shoots up your throat: you're supposed to settle this thing once and for all. You're supposed to let go of him today. 

And still, when he arrives, you can't find the courage to say what you need to say. The words are stuck in your throat, but tears are not. He should already be a memory, but you find yourself suffocating on memories as you cry. You've learned to do even that in silence, like the rest of your suffering.

You take a few deep breaths, wipe the tears away, shove the rest of them down your throat – you save them for later, later, when he's far away and you can finally curl up and cry your heart out without no one there to look. Fucking later.

Good. 

Good.

Great.

You put your heaviest armor on. It protects weak and soft flesh because you can't meet him all bare. Then you step forward with the knowledge that you’re a thoroughly wounded guerrilla while he is a seasoned, well-rested veteran. The fight is nowhere near even, but it's ok. You are not meant to be in the presence of immortals anyway.

The man looks at you warily as you finally enter the room. That haunted look has followed you for some time now as the distance between you has grown. 

It should be easy, what is about to come, because he hasn't touched you in weeks. You haven't wanted him to.

Or you have… But it's not easy to have his hands on you when your body is only a vessel you hate. How can you even think about pleasure when all you think about is how it must feel for him to caress something as awful as this?

The man is a vision, and he settles for a peasant. It should be against the law, but it's not… so you figured a some time ago that you should simply find the strength and grace to do ii: do what's right.

"I need to talk to you." 

Your voice comes out neutral, and it makes you more confident, if only for a second or two.

He lifts his chin: already knows what's coming, because he's not stupid. You've been shutting down for weeks, and he hasn't done much about it. But when the thunder rolls in, he doesn't flee. Probably because he fears nothing.

"Go ahead then," he says, equally as neutral, equally as icy. Got his armor on, too. 

This should be easy…

It's really not, so you decide to rip the band-aid off in one yank.

"I think we should go separate ways."

The following inhale from across the room pierces the air like a bullet. You can hear his breaths gain depth and speed all the way to where you're standing.

"Ok."

It doesn't look or sound like he's ok. If anything, he looks like he's trying to process the sudden storm. 

"Ok…" His eyes are on the floor as he rubs the back of his neck. Then he starts to pace around the little kitchenette you've shared for almost six months, just before you started gaining weight.

He stops to look out the window, then turns to you, and the hurt in his stare comes through like a thousand needles pushing through skin.

"Is it because of my work?" 

"No."

"What is it then?"

Your breaths are getting out of hand, too. He looks like a lost, tired creature in an abandoned animal shelter for a moment, and it breaks your heart. It squeezes the organ inside a flaming fist until it shatters like it has never been nothing more than ice.

Your lip starts to tremble, and he notices, as per usual. Nothing escapes this man, except perhaps the true reason for your anguish.

"Hey. Hey."

He comes to you and hugs you like it's the only thing that matters: to comfort you when he sees you're about to cry, no matter how crushed he's feeling himself. The sudden warmth, the intimacy after weeks and weeks of pain is knee-buckling. 

"Is there anything I can do to change your mind?"

His voice is soft, so soft… The tears rush forth now; there's no way of stopping them. What the hell can you even say to a question like that? That you wish he could grab a magic wand and turn you into someone gorgeous, the woman he deserves?

His embrace feels good, kind of. It also feels smothering because your self-hate makes you want to disappear from existence entirely. His eyes are equal to physical touch, a probing scan that sees every little flaw, not to talk about massive faults, the ones which make you feel like you're simply disgusting. His touch only reminds you how you must feel like to him: soft, too soft, weak.

And he must hate weakness.

"What do you need me to do? I'll do anything," he tries with a parched throat, then swallows. 

It's fucking horrible. This isn't going at all like you had imagined.

"It's not about you," you struggle out of his hold, and he lets you go with reluctance. You have to basically fight your way out of a bone and steel prison. Why would he even want to hold a pathetic woman who's on the brink of ugly crying on top of everything?

"What do you mean?"

He's slightly breathless – and restless as fuck. He's usually so calm; nothing can get to him, nothing can rattle the tower of raw strength. Now you've not only pierced some invisible armor; you can hear pieces of it falling on the floor.

"Have you found someone else?"

What the…

"No." You put as much weight on that word as you possibly can. To imagine that he thinks you are cheating… Fucking cheating on someone like him. "Jesus Christ…"

He takes a deep breath and sighs deeply, sighs out relief, perhaps. Then his razor-sharp stare fixes on you again, and you can see the fear turning into something akin to concern. You suspect you have to tell him the truth, otherwise he will dig it out of you. 

"I'm just…" 

Jesus, this is just humiliating. 

"I'm just not your type."

"What the hell are you talking about," he mutters, the impending fury giving way to momentary surprise. 

He gets intense sometimes. This time, the ferocity is born of barely concealed distress. He's broad and magnificent, even in despair. He’s just so fucking fine… The perfect man, someone you had never even imagined yourself with. Pulled down to the world of puny mortals, evidently stressing about losing one. 

Losing you.

"If you have someone new, you can just bloody well tell me."

"It's not that. You don't understand–" 

"Try me."

"I just…" A tear escapes down your face as you finally break for him. "I'm fat. Okay? And ugly. And–"

"Stop right there."

The look on his face is just… It's priceless, you suppose.

"Bloody fucking hell…" 

He looks at the floor, then runs his fingers through the short cut hair on top of his head. You've yanked those blonde strands more times than you can count, nearly every time he's been between your legs, and you miss it – you long for it, like fallen angels long for heaven. 

And if there was a time this man was rendered speechless, you would say you were witnessing that moment right now. His brows knit together, then he looks up at you again with blaring disbelief.

"You're serious?"

"Yes."

"This is the reason you wanna break up?"

Ugh.

"Yes?"

His voice grows rougher with every question until it resembles thunder, and you suspect this is the commanding tone his soldiers are used to hearing. 

But you're not: it's gravelly, harsh, and betrays the feeling of having been insulted. You feel even more devastated with yourself – it appears you can do nothing right.

"Where has this… idea even come to your head?"

"I don't know." 

"And you never thought to ask my opinion?"

"Would you please stop yelling," you whisper and blink back some putrid tears. His mouth is snapped shut, his head pulls back just a little as he realizes what he's done. 

"Sorry," he says with a half-whisper, and you catch the strain in his throat. You've never seen him cry, but now his voice is suddenly thin and frail. "I'm sorry."

He takes a step, then another, places fingertips on the counter as if to take the faintest support.

"Can I touch you?"

You don't really want him to do that, but you feel pity for the man. He's trying to find a way through this mess, and you want to help him.

"Yes," you whisper, and he immediately comes and takes you in his arms again. Hot tears disappear into his shirt, and you sniff a few times. He feels so good, so safe, even when you're about to lose him. His hold tightens around you, and the kitchen is silent; the whole world is silent. You don't know if you're being put to a grave or if you're in a deaf womb, waiting to be reborn.

"Now I don't know who's said this shite to you but ugly is the last fucking thing I'd call you," he declares above you. As if it was some bully whose fault it is that you were this way, a bully he could deal with with his fists or a gun. If only things were that easy…

"Have I said or done something? To make you feel this way?"

Then the blade is turned against himself. The man desperately searches for a culprit so he can deal with them.

"No," is the only thing you can say because it's true: he has never done a thing to make you feel like you weren't good enough; quite the contrary. But then again, he doesn't have to. It's enough that he exists and resembles a god.

"Then why do you think you're not my type?"

"Because you're so perfect," you hear yourself wail, no, cry into that shirt that smells of sweet safety and familiar musk – his scent, another thing you have missed like it's the only way to heaven.

"That for sure ain't true."

"But it is."

He seems to have the utmost difficulty in grasping what the issue here is. You can almost hear the wheels turning in his head with a rusty, laborious creak.

"Can't believe you wanna break up because of this," he finally says. You've chipped his pride, the ego that lives off of pleasing the ones he loves: the few chosen ones who he wants to give his whole life to. 

"To me, you're perfect," he then says, and you simply… You stop breathing. "You're like… my dream woman. Ever thought about that?"

It can't be true, even if you vehemently, desperately want it to be. You reach out to his words like they're precious food after years of famine. Like they're sun and spring rain after being buried in the cold, dark soil whole winter.

"No…?"

"Never occurred to you that I might find you fucking beautiful?"

"Stop," you whisper, because it's too much to take in. He sounds so serious, so sincere.

"No, I don't think I will."

He pulls back a little and cups your face. Brushes away a tear, looks at you with so much love that it physically hurts; you feel like it's a lance that slowly drives through your heart.

"How about I kiss every part I love about you?"

You let out a soft little whimper. Fuck, that you want him to… 

It would also be uncomfortable as hell. To try and let him love you and your body, which you have grown to loathe.

"It's gonna take all night, though. Wanna be as thorough as possible."

"Simon–"

"Love. I want you. Thought I'd made it pretty clear, but apparently I haven't. If you only knew how much–"

He sighs deeply. The man is frustrated with his shortcomings, thinks that this is all his fault. You cry a tear or two just for the sake of how absurd it all is. 

"I don't want you to go. I fucking love you. Everything about you."

For the second time this afternoon, your lower lip starts to tremble as if this was some stupid, romantic movie. He can be so soft when he wants to, more romantic than the soft-spoken gentlemen in Jane Austen's novels. It doesn't even require any effort: underneath the cynical surface, there's fiery emotion, so powerful and raw that it almost bleeds out of him. Fuck… Does he even know what he's doing to you?

"I love you too," you whisper back, and the warmth that starts to bloom in his eyes is an entire sun on its own. It's hope, and you believe him, almost believe him.

"Then I'd say it's a bloody bad idea to break up."

You chuckle while few more tears push through to the surface.

"Simon…" You sigh and look back up at him, your armor falling to the floor too. "I feel like a wreck."

You allow him to see the pain, all of it. His breath is sharp as it hits him, but he still doesn't waver.

"Then let me help you."

The arms around you gain more strength, and you're crushed against a chest made of power. He tries to turn shit to gold, and threatens to succeed. You allow yourself to soften in his hold. How good it feels to be supported – no, loved.

"You don't even let me touch you anymore."

It's a filed complaint, but also heart-rending, soul-wrenching longing. You have evaded him for weeks now – hell, this shit began months ago and has escalated gradually, stealthily, until the moments together were a rarity, the space between you was full of frost; and not the crispy, happy summer drink kind.

"I thought you'd found someone else. Could've found out if that was the case in minutes, but honestly, I didn't wanna know."

Oh my God…

Has he lived with a growing suspicion and dread all these months? 

That would explain why he has avoided you too…

He has allowed you to go to your supposed lover, has given you space to be alone and without too much attention. The man has shielded himself from pain. 

Jesus fucking Christ.

"I'm so sorry," you say with a strained little breath. "I swear it's nothing like that. I just… I feel like a mess."

"Never seen such a gorgeous mess." 

He speaks on your skin, the kiss on your forehead feels like an absolution. 

Then you notice it's not only his words which try to assure you. He's growing harder by the minute against your stomach, just from a simple hug. Just from being pressed against you like this, after weeks of dry, bitter longing.

"Miss your taste," he murmurs to your skin, his voice like sand wrapped in burning velvet. "The sounds you make when you want it hard."

Oh God–

"Miss your smile when we go to shower after."

"Hmh…"

"Don't wanna live without that smile."

You don't have to. 

God, you don't have to…

"How about we make a deal," he draws fingers down your chin, coaxing you to look up at him. His eyes are stripped from the cold distance that greeted you just moments ago: now they are filled with warmth that spreads to your chest and belly and bones. You drink him in like summertide.

"You come to me every time you feel bad and I'll make you feel good. Alright?"

"...Ok." 

He tilts his head a little to the side, not entirely satisfied with your shy little answer.

"Come on. Make me believe it."

"It's a deal," you say with more grit to it, even if you're nearly crying again, this time from relief.

"That's my girl."

Oh fuck…

He knows exactly what strings to pull, the good girl talk being one of the things that instantly makes your legs feel like jelly. 

And why does he always have to use that voice when he calls you a good girl or his girl, that sultry smoke that makes you want to swoon until he catches you and carries you to bed?

The man seems to be a mind reader as well, because he sweeps you off your feet and does exactly that: carries you to your bed which has mainly seen silent tears and painful sleep last months.

"Poor thing doesn't even know how lovely she is."

He sounds amused in the face of your darkness: sees it in full and still doesn't fear at all. He's ready to battle your demons for you, and you feel like shaking: from his touch and that voice, from the stress and loneliness that starts to release as he lays you down on the bed.

He looks so different from the man that has haunted this place for the past months, the complete opposite of the reserved soldier retreating into the shadows.

He moves to kiss you, and it's been – what? Weeks since your last kiss? And even that was only a quick peck, nothing like this… Wet, and desperate; a devouring. It makes you clench around nothingness, and you finally surrender. 

No one can fake such fervor.

You try to accept it: accept the fact that even if you hate yourself, he does not. For some reason, he adores you. His breaths hit your face hot and urgent, and he can't keep his hands to himself anymore. They wander over your waist and hips, they even risk to steal a feel of your breasts, and then he groans in your mouth.

"I've missed you. Fuck, I've missed you..."

You taste notes of burning leaves; tobacco, his only weakness. You fantasize on the thought that you might be another weakness, too.

"Remember when I fucked you in my office?"

"I've missed you too," you utter softly in between the kisses that threaten to turn into a sloppy mess. "So much..."

He smiles at that, and it makes you weak, even when lying down like this.

"Yeah…?"

"You were so loud I had to put a hand over your mouth."

His voice is thick as he laughs a short chuckle. Your inner walls clench again at the sound, you throb among the warm syrup surrounding you.

"Never seen you so wet. Almost dripped all over my gear."

"It's that stupid mask you wear," you hear yourself breathe like you've just been underwater. Feel yourself throb some more, feel a burning sensation in the nether areas from the scorched desert turning wet again. You want him so much that it actually hurts down there.

"Knew you'd like it. That's why I kept it on."

If this man keeps talking, your underwear is going to be utterly ruined. And of course he does; of course he continues to pour more love in your ear.

"Everyone looked at you like you were a queen," he grunts in your ear, sounding almost… pissed.

"Don't be ridiculous," you try to form sensible words. It's only a faint breath, really, but he huffs at your modesty. 

"You don't have eyes in the back of your head, love."

Wow… He is a bit pissed.

Had they checked your ass out when you visited him? 

It was the first and, what you thought, the last time you got to visit him at his workplace… but you never would have guessed the reason for him not asking you to visit again would be jealousy. 

"Don't worry. I put those fuckers in their place after you left." 

Whoa. 

Ok…

First, he had fucked you senseless in his office – a highly inappropriate move for a man in his position – then got jealous because some soldiers had checked you out as you left with his cum practically dripping from your cunt.

You put yourself in his shoes for a moment: he's had to live with thoughts of you running to some other man's arms when he's not home, and then watch you waltz around his workplace after making what was supposed to be the last effort to make him love you… When he has loved and adored you this whole time, has watched the sway of your ass with the rest of those home-deprived, horny soldiers, thinking you had fallen out of love and were on your way to go see some other guy.

Had he invited you there to try and win you back, too? By showing himself to you in all his puffed up, masculine glory? A desperate man in a skull mask, hoping to get love from you…

There's so many misunderstandings; they rip your throat. A sob escapes, and he stops his caress.

"Love… Tell me to stop if you–"

"No. No, I don't want you to stop." 

Your request comes out with such demand that he hesitates only a second or two. Then he moves on top of you and tugs your skirt up. You don't even have time to realize what is happening before he has worked himself out of his pants.

He's hard and heavy between your legs, and your eyes go wide as you realize he's not going to bother to take your briefs off. He just slides a hand under the skirt and draws the fabric aside, and the fat tip of him is pushed in the middle almost clumsily. It's hot, and slips down to your opening with ease.

Oh f–

"Been jerking off to you nearly every night at the base," he says just before he pushes himself in. 

"Uh–...."

Your thighs spread wide as he fills you slowly, inch after inch. The sound that leaves him is starved: a dry, painful sigh. He's been waiting for this for god knows how long, and you're just as hungry to take him in. He seems endless, the way he finally works himself fully inside, spreading you even wider as the thickening base of his cock reaches its end. 

"Thought you were getting railed by someone else while I only get to fuck my hand."

"Oh god…"

There's really nothing else to say as his balls press against you, heavy and taut. He's not going to last long.

"Yeah. Imagine that," he admits, breathless like you. 

You look at him with what must be the most helpless stare of longing in your eyes. Then he moves, and you want to grip him to keep him inside. The first thrusts are divine, they're pure heaven, and your head sinks deep into the pillow as you try to get enough air, try to not scream from pleasure already. Somehow, all you are able to utter is a desperate little whisper.

"Simon–"

His cock is good enough to bring tears to your eyes. You're starving too, you're pulling him in with fierce hunger, and he groans, then nearly falls forward, his weight pressing against you, swallowing you, until you feel like you're an idiot for thinking that you're too big. The thickness of his chest rubs against you as he makes love to you with passion that echoes the first times you did this.

"Just wanna adore you, love." He's panting desperate somewhere above you. A god and a man, both furious and gentle. "I wanna adore you. Just like this."

You answer him with what must be those sounds he told you about, the sounds you make when you want it hard. 

You want him to fuck you, to wreck you after weeks of loneliness and hate. To love you until you break into a million pieces.

"Simon," you whisper. "...Love me."

He halts, huffs in your neck. It's almost a sob. There's so much emotion and desperation in the air that it could be scooped up and sold in the streets.

"Always," he rasps in your ear, then moves to kiss you again. "Always."

The promise echoes around you, it coats your lips as he loves you with all he has. It's been so long, and he feels so good that you nails dig into his shirt, his shoulder, you try to hold onto him even though he's the wave that rocks you.

"You feel that?" He goes deep; he's out of breath and desperate, even more desperate than you. "That's love. You feel it, yeah?"

"Yes," you sob in his shoulder, tears trying to escape your waterline as you're going dumb from the pure sensation, the sensuality of it all. 

"That's it, love. That's a good girl," he turns to your neck and gruffs in your ear as you whimper and moan. "Always such a good girl."

Shit…

"I, I'm gonna…"

Your legs wrap around his middle, your muscles twitch and your hands reach and grab – they claw and yank and tug everything they can: his back, shoulders, shirt, something sturdy to keep you from drowning in a glorious orgasm.

He laughs in your neck and continues to grind you through your climax even when you're shattering, sighing, moaning, writhing under him. He just laughs, the man who never laughs: from witnessing you respond to him calling you a good girl.

Fucking bastard…

Lovable, infuriating bastard who knows you to your core. 

You're an overstimulated heap by the time he comes as well, not long after you, but long enough to make you feel like you're only a tender bunch of nerves. Your legs have fallen to the side, he has open access to take what he needs: you, your love, all of it.

His whole middle goes tense as he cums, he groans and swears somewhere deep into your neck, rolls his hips over and over again like it's a must that his balls press against you with every thrust that shoot his load. 

Then he falls slack, nearly collapses on top of you, reminding you of what it feels like to be small under a giant like him. You're throbbing together, you're full and fulfilled, and he is still lodged deep inside you, panting and broken in a sweat.

"Jesus Christ…" 

He sounds dazed. 

Relieved. 

"Should've done this weeks ago."

You laugh at seeing him so done – a man in love, torn by jealous yearning, finally taking what's his. You stroke his neck, his back – it's so good to have him finally there… So close, with no barriers in between.

"I should've talked to you weeks ago..." 

"Yeah. You should have."

"Are you going to punish me?" You giggle a little – the flirt is light and frees your heart further from its recent jail. He moves to look at you with all the tenderness there is. It's too much... His love is too much. But you won't run from it anymore.

"Nah. Think I'm gonna spoil you some more."

He spoils you right away with a kiss. You surrender to his treatment with happiness: happy tears, even. 

The medicine to your anguish has been the exact opposite to what you had first tried, what you had originally thought. The true remedy for your sickness is mercy. Perhaps some spoiling…

And love.

[screamingcrows]

Genshin characters as ways animals court and mate

Hello. Hi. I've never attempted a post like this before. Please don't burn me at the stake for making a concept post with multiple characters. This is just a long shitpost. There are probably better suited animals out there, I just chose from the ones I knew.

Characters included; Pantalone, Diluc, Xiao, Childe, Xianyun, Itto, Dottore, Venti, Albedo

Tags: man I don't even know, descriptions of animal copulation (non graphic), noncon (Pantalone) , aphrodisiacs (Albedo), alcohol for Venti, crack post, none of it is described in detail or graphic but proceed at your own discretion

Pantalone - Gerridae spp. (Water striders) OR Garrulus glandarius (Eurasian jay)

How Pantalone acts very much depends on who you are and how you behave. If you're simply a means to an end (his own release) then you can expect to be used, under threats of misfortune if you're uncooperative, and then discarded. But, if you've truly caught his attention as something worth keeping, then you can expect a well thought out, catered specifically to your tastes, display of his wealth and what he can offer you if you stick around. Gerridae males will mount the female while they're on the water surface and thrum his legs against the surface to attract predators (the female is more likely to be eaten since she is closer to the surface), only stopping once the female stops resisting. The eurasian jay has been observed to regularly give gifts, not only right before mating, and has displayed that conscious thought goes into picking what the female will appreciate the most, with often opting for bringing her something 'new and exciting'.

Diluc - Pygoscelis papua (Gentoo penguin)

Once Diluc finds himself ready to settle down, you can rest assured that plenty of care went into that decision. After hovering around you for a while, slowly finding that he doesn't wish to be without your presence (I could write so much about this turning point for Diluc whew) he presents you with two seemingly odd items. One is an old-looking key, the other a locket containing a few grape seeds. The key is for the back-door to the winery so you can always come and go. The locket belonged to his mother and the seeds inside are for you to plant. He hopes you're as ready to settle down and build a life together as he is. Gentoo penguins build their nests out of rocks and males will essentially present a female with a carefully selected stone to signify "I would like to build a nest with you". Gentoo penguins are also known for being very strictly monogamously, to the point that sleeping around or attempting to can get an individual kicked out of the colony.

Xiao - Drosophila spp. (fruit flies)

This one isn't exactly a calculated move on Xiao's part, and he'd prefer that this wasn't a byproduct of sexual intimacy (intimacy of any kind really). Due to his karmic debt, Xiao affects his surroundings and 'taints' them. On his partner, this means that for a time after being with him, they experience mild symptoms akin to those you'd experience after being in close proximity to old god remains. The emotional effects last a couple of hours and make others less likely to engage in any kind of social behaviour with you. Drosophila males use a pheromone to mark a female as unattractive after mating, reducing the chances of his sperm being outcompeted. Some evidence suggests that the pheromone has mildly harmful effects on the female.

Childe / Ajax / Tartaglia - Vulpes vulpes (red fox)

Am I pushing an agenda here? Absolutely. Childe gets excited when he notices that you're beginning to pay attention to him - however sparse it may be - and does everything he can to interact with you, making sure to keep it fun and engaging (both for himself and you). Bright and cheerful while courting you. Gets territorial and doesn't take kindly to others being too familiar with you. Has a habit of disappearing for long periods of time on missions, but when he's there, he's very devoted. Male foxes get aggressive towards other males around breeding season. Courting includes loud calls and frolicking around with a chosen mate, typically play fighting and nipping at each other. Male foxes stay to help raise the pups, letting the female stay with the pups for the first weeks while he fetches food daily.

Xianyun / Cloud retainer - Grus japonensis (Manchurian crane)

As we've seen, Xianyun has quite the knack for designing pretty clothes, and once she's set her sights on courting someone, it doesn't take long for her 'daughters' to encourage her to make something that shows her off. Reluctant at first, wanting to make something nice for you instead (she ends up doing both) she eventually invites you for a stroll through the harbor. She's dazzling of course, leading you around while practically chatting your ear off. Next time you're invited to Mt. Aozang, she shows off the equally stunning garment prepared for you and makes you try it on before pulling out one of her musical contraptions and inviting you for a dance "to test the range of motion". Cranes in general exhibit 'elegant' courtship dances that are not only performed before initiating a partnership, but done regularly to strengthen the bond between two individuals. The courtship dance also shows off their plumeage, the health of which is important for selecting a partner.

Arataki Itto - Hypsignathus monstrosus (hammer-headed bat)

Oh boy. There's a reason I'm not an Itto fucker and this is part of it. Would absolutely take any chance he could (and probably try to set up even more chances...) to show you how cool he is. Always front and center, the adorable oni might very well get the brilliant idea to write you a song and perform in front of everyone at the next Iridescence Tour. Enters every single competition he can in an attempt to win you the prices and impress you. Hammer-headed bats engage in a courting behaviour known as 'lek mating', in which groups of males form a lek and establish performance areas. The males then hang from a branch, flapping their wings, and producing loud calls while females fly around and peruse the males available.

Il Dottore - Saccharomyces cerevisiae (baker's yeast)

CTRL+C -> CTRL+V A multitude of microorganisms reproduce by a process called 'budding'. Only including Dottore as a joke because I'm actually making an entire post like this but for his different segments. And to the smartass about to say 'oh yeast isn't an animal' shhhh we have no idea what the fuck fungi are.

Venti - Sepia apama (Giant cuttlefish)

This little charmeur knows exactly how to play the mating game despite competition being fierce. Not exactly imposing, people merely scoff when he cozies up to you. Sure, he has his hands all over you and his head making a bee-line towards your lap. But he's drunk. And oddly endearing in how gently he touches you, like you're something precious, his eyes almost shining when he looks at you. Gotta remember he's a poet as well, a few of his sweet words and it's impossible to resist going home with him. Giant cuttlefish males are very competitive and aggressive, with the largest ones being able to secure females. BUT smaller males, sometimes referred to as 'sneaker males', will wait for the larger male to be distracted and sneak past to mate. They've also been observed to change their colouring and hide their hectocotylus (think of it as a specialised penis-arm) to resemble a female and better hide.

Albedo - Siphopteron quadrispinosum (sea slug)

This is dedicated entirely to you Petal <3 And to everyone else, this is a bad joke. While Rhinedottir did everything she could to make Albedo, he's lacking in certain places. Which was fine. Until he met you. But that's fine, he has a solution to that. He's spent weeks fussing over creating everything that would be needed, a bottle of pheromones to get you properly prepared and a perfectly shaped rod for insertion, the tip sharpened for piercing your skin of course. A lot of sea slugs are hermaphrodites and will, after feeling each other up, stab the other with a penile stylet and inject their fluids. Some of them do it directly into the other's head. The penile stylet regrows.

[cptnhngjng]

pretty sounds (part 1)

 “such a good girl. such a good, good girl for me. making all those pretty sounds.”

you help hongjoong out with his new song

-hongjoong x f!reader -1.4k words -smut, mdni, 18+ only c/w: studio sex, overstimulation, oral sex (f recieving), unprotected sex

multiple parts (eventual multiple members x f!reader)

part two three four

it’s a common occurrence to visit joong while he’s working in the studio. i mean he practically lives there at this point. most of the time you just kinda hung out there while he worked. you both liked just being in each other’s presence—hongjoong working on his music and you doing whatever it is you do. 

this one particular evening it was very hot and humid outside, so you wore a skirt to help keep cool. when you showed up at the studio, hongjoong didn’t think too much of it when he saw you in the skirt. he was a little stressed because he was in a serious song writing block and was struggling to finish up a song. just nothing sounded good and it was really pissing him off. 

you made yourself comfortable on the couch in his studio while hongjoong went back to working on his song. you were focused on your phone, mindlessly playing a game, but you kept hearing hongjoong groaning and sighing in frustration. you stood up and walked over to him and wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned over, kissing his jaw. 

“what’s wrong, joongie?” you ask. 

hongjoong looked up at you and sighed. “i can’t seem to figure this song out, I don’t like anything I come up with.” he turned his chair around so he could face you. 

“i wish i could help you somehow,” you said quietly as you ran your fingers through his short hair. 

at this point hongjoong finally noticed the skirt you are wearing and how delectable your thighs look. his hands grasp your waist as he stands up to kiss you. his hands slowly trail down, brushing against your ass before he grips your thighs tightly.  he kisses your lips again before moving to your jaw and neck. he whispers against your skin, “i have an idea on how you could help.”

“mmm, what is it?” you ask as you lean your head back, allowing hongjoong more access to your neck. 

he nips at your neck before he pulls away and looks you in the eyes, his stare intense. “let me record your noises while i make you feel good, please”. 

you let in a sharp breath before quickly kissing hongjoong. “if it’ll help, then yes,” you whisper against his lips. 

you knew hongjoong always like the sounds you created while you two got intimate. he would always remind you of how pretty you sounded. the first few times you guys fucked, hongjoong was very quiet, and you got self conscious about the noises you made, so you tried your hardest to be quiet as well. you were convinced that he didn’t like your noises.

hongjoong did not like that you were being quiet. he loved the way you sounded—the small gasps and lewd moans you let out. which is why he tried to be quiet. he wanted to hear you and how he good he made you feel. so when you weren’t making the noises he so desperately needed to hear, he thought something was wrong. once you both explained to each other the reasons why you both were quiet, things changed. you no longer were self conscious of your noises and hongjoong made sure he always reminded you how much he loved to hear you. 

hongjoong deepened the kiss and pushed you towards his chair. he made you sit down—he broke the kiss and and checked to make sure he was recording audio. he got to his knees and rubbed his hands against your soft thighs. he looked up at you with a smirk. thank god you wore that skirt today, he thought. he grabbed your thighs and hooked your legs over the arms of his chair, allowing a perfect view of your panty covered pussy. he pressed some kisses to your left thigh while his fingers slowly danced up your right thigh, towards your core. 

“already so wet for me,” he chuckles as he slipped a finger past your panties, feeling your slick. 

hongjoong started to pull your panties off, you lifting your ass slightly to help him. once your core was free and exposed, hongjoong went back to kissing your thighs, slowly trailing up, getting closer to your cunt. “so pretty, can’t wait to make you feel so good,” he mutters before licking a thick stripe up your slit. 

you gripped the short strands of his hair as you felt him attach his lips to your clit and suck. hongjoong’s fingers quickly found their way to your entrance and he started pumping them in and out. you moaned lightly as you attempted to grind against hongjoong’s face. he giggled at your attempt and the vibrations went straight to your core. 

hongjoong removed his fingers and you whined out at the emptiness. he licked his fingers clean before diving back in, tasting your juices. his tongue plunged deep into your hole while his sharp nose pressed against your clit. again, you attempted to grind against his face, but his grip on your thighs was strong. 

you continued to let out gasps and moans as he continued to fuck you with his tongue. your nails scratched against his scalp when you felt his fingers prodding at your entrance again. his tongue circled your clit as his fingers reached for your sensitive spot. you could feel your release coming quickly. 

you let out the loudest and filthiest sounding moan, causing hongjoong to hum satisfyingly against your pussy. your toes curled as you felt your climax hit. your grip on joong’s hair became stronger as you rolled your hips against his pretty face. you could feel hongjoong smirking against you, continuing to pump his fingers as you come down from your high. 

hongjoong would not let up. he continued to abuse your cunt with his mouth and fingers, causing you to become overstimulated. the pleasure and pain was becoming too much. you were whining and begging at hongjoong to stop. but he kept going, feeling you squirm under his touch. 

“hongjoong—ah, please” you moaned out as your thighs clenched around hongjoong’s head. tears were starting to form. you were so sensitive. once again you could feel another climax hitting. 

“you can do this pretty girl,” hongjoong said as he curled his fingers up against your g spot. the squelching noises coming from your cunt and the moans from your mouth were so loud and lewd. you just know hongjoong’s face was covered in your wetness. 

hongjoong finally pulled away as you started to come down from your second climax. you were right, hongjoong was covered in your slick. he looked at you with a proud smirk, before tasting his fingers that were covered in your juices. 

not even thinking, you grab hongjoong by his shirt and slam your lips against his—tasting yourself on his mouth. he groaned into the kiss, feeling himself getting harder and harder. his jeans were tight and his cock begging to be freed. 

continuing to make out, hongjoong undoes his jeans and pulls them and his underwear down just far enough to free his dick. you are quick to grab him and start to pump his cock, spreading the thick precum around his tip. hongjoong groans again as he lifts you up by your thighs and switches places with you, so now he is sitting on his chair. you are over top of him, lining your entrance up to his cock. you slowly sink down, feeling the stretch. hongjoong throws his head back as he feels your wet warmth envelop him. you lean against him and start sucking the skin against his throat. he thrusts up against you, causing you to moan against his neck. 

you were still so sensitive from hongjoong abusing your cunt with his mouth and fingers, so you were already close to coming for the third time. you start to grind against hongjoong while his fingers make way to your clit. he rubs slow circles and your walls start to clench tightly around him. more whines and moans leave your mouth as you reach your high. hongjoong’s fingers continue to abuse your clit while you ride him. 

“joong,” you gasp out, “i’m—i’m cumming!” you tremble against hongjoong as you cum on his dick. 

hongjoong lets out a low moan as he kisses you hard. “such a good girl. such a good, good girl for me. making all those pretty sounds.” he thrusts up into you a few more times before he finally cums in you. 

[reiderwriter]

She's a Silver Lining

Chapter Nine of I Can't Help Myself

Summary: Spencer comes to terms with your abduction.

Warnings: ANGST, Suicidal ideation, kidnapping, mentions of fetal abduction and murder of pregnant women, descriptions of abuse, descriptions of prenatal care, typical case details. Spencer is depressed.

A/N: I'm sorry this chapter is a day late, I literally saw God this weekend (I saw Taemin perform live), and really, all that's been on my mind is how God is Good (Taemin is hot), and so I haven't been able to write anything as depressing as this chapter. I hope you enjoy (?) it anyway~♡

Masterlist || tags are currently broken, I'm sorry ♡

Eight days. It had been eight days since Spencer had last seen you. Eight days since he'd screwed up his one job so massively that he'd lost you. 

He'd lost people before. He'd lost people on cases. Victims, unsubs, bystanders, and family members who didn't stand a chance at recovering from their own loss. He'd lost Maeve, which was a little too similar to his current circumstances to think about too hard. He'd been losing his mother since he was born, and he'd really lost her again a few months ago. He'd lost Gideon. He'd lost Elle, too, before that. He'd lost Emily, and though she'd come back too, it wasn't the same. He'd lost Morgan, and then Hotch. He'd lost Alex Blake.

He'd lost nearly everyone in his life. Some of them had come back, most of them hadn't. 

He'd thought himself immune to the pain of losing someone at last. 

He'd certainly lost enough of himself in prison. 

It may have only been 84 days, but whatever was left in him of hope before was gone. He'd emerged completely empty. 

He supposed that's why he'd accepted the role at the university. There was nothing left for him to give to the BAU, but he couldn't be the one to leave. 

As it was, he'd already been unsettled enough by leaving you behind when he'd finished up his time there. 

It felt weird to him, saying goodbye. Not that he'd actually said goodbye. He'd kissed your forehead as he slipped out of your bed, sure, but you'd been neither conscious, nor fond of him in anyway. It was a parting gesture just for him  and he hadn't been quite sure why he'd done it. 

It was just a gesture and one he'd repeated multiple times after getting you back. You didn't know, of course. How could you? 

He'd either woken up before you and kissed your forehead, or climbed into bed beside you late at night and greeted you then. 

You'd lain side by side, drifting to sleep slowly, when he realized it had become a daily habit. 

He hadn't any idea of what he'd do when you left. 

And now you had. And it was his fault. 

In the eight days since you'd been kidnapped, Spencer had come to terms with a few facts.

He knew 64,956 women were currently declared missing in the United States. He knew that 77% of adults reported missing were found in 24 hours. You weren't. He knew 4% were found in 48 hours. You weren't. Only 3% were usually missing still after a week. 

You were somehow in that small minority, even though there was an entire team of FBI agents working around the clock to find you. 

He'd had faith in his coworkers before. Before, he'd begged for their help, and they'd succeeded in 24 hours, even if the outcome wasn't preferable. 

This time, he didn't beg. He had no faith. He just hoped to be present with a gun, loaded with two bullets, if this time went the way of the last. 

On the eighth day after your abduction, Spencer finally returned home.

The damage from your abduction was still apparent. 

Not that your captor had left many clues. In fact, they'd left none. Not even a fingerprint or a good angle on the CCTV. But he hadn't taken returning to an empty apartment well.

He slashed through the crime scene tape quickly, letting in hang in the doorway as he entered. The bookshelves he'd attacked were limping, leaning on each other for support after he'd ripped books off so violently he'd set them askew. 

He'd kicked and ripped and punched the wall so hard he'd needed stitches that he'd absolutely refused to get. 

He'd cried and sobbed into his bloodied and bruised hands until Emily had arrived, and then he'd cried some more, leaning on his friend, his sister, for her support. 

Returning now, there wasn't a single tear left.

In the hospital, they'd addressed his flesh wounds, but the emotional ones would never hear. 

You were gone. And now there was only a 3% chance he'd ever see you again. 

Emily hadn't allowed him to stick around to make their jobs harder. She's placed him on house arrest - funnily enough, her house, where you should've been if he wasn't such a selfish ass - and assigned a watch. 

She’d said it was for protection, but what she'd meant was it was to protect him from himself.

The rest of the team had avoided the topic entirely. They didn't know how to deal with whatever stage of grief he was going through. Many of them had comforted him the first time. They didn't know how to do it a second. They didn't know if they could. 

After eight days, Spencer had left Emily’s apartment. He'd dodged the Agent she'd stationed alongside him, got into a taxi, and gone home. 

Surveying the damage, he was surprised how deep the hurt had already cut to not feel much anymore. 

He looked at the books splayed on the floor. It was a title that you'd been reading that week. One he remembered you using at the office, one that had been on both of your courses reading lists. He picked each of them up and put them back on the shelf. He righted each shelf and organised them neatly, how he thought you'd like them. 

He picked pillows up and rearranged them. He vacuumed the debris from the floor, the thin layer of dust that had gathered since he'd left, the splinters pf bookcase that had crumbled off, the shards of wall that were speckled with his blood. 

He wept the entire time, though silent, until there were no tears left to cry. 

Then he'd come across a tiny package underneath his coffee table, a single corner of plastic peaking out, begging for attention. 

He'd picked it up and wept again as he found depths of sadness to reach further down than what he'd assumed to be rock bottom. 

Aa he lay in a pool of his own despair, a new, haunting fact crashed from his brain to his heart. Since 1987, there had been 21 foetal abductions in the USA. 19 of them had ended in homicide, with the mother dying. 

You made 22. 

In the two months since you'd been abducted, you'd learned three things. 

The first was that you absolutely loved Spencer Reid. You'd spent enough time sitting introspectively about everything in your life to realize you had to stop being so stubborn and admit just that. You'd been about there before all of this, but now you knew for sure. 

You should be cursing the man that inspired your horror show of a life, after all. But instead, you thought about him and held back tears. 

She gave you updates these days, testing your reactions to his name, waiting to see you crack, to see you cry, and sob and break down completely. 

Today, Spencer had been to see his mother, she said. He'd broken down in her arms and caused her to have an episode. She'd hit him so hard, his face had already been bruised by the time she saw him. 

The second thing you knew was that your baby was going to be born healthy. You had no plans of having a home birth, but now, at seven months pregnant, and large enough that you almost thought about doing your conception math again, you knew you were on track for giving birth in the room you'd been in for the last 58 days. 

You hadn't counted. 

She’d been good enough to tell you the date, the day, and her plans every morning when she visited you. She checked your vitals, your blood pressure, the position of the baby, your temperature, your heart rate, and recorded everything in her chart. She asked you how the pregnancy was going, almost as if she was the nurse she'd been training to be. 

Her bedside manner was so good some days. You forgot entirely that you were tied down to the bed, ankle clamped down. 

She let you walk for an hour a day, but recommended bedrest after that for health reasons. You didn't complain or talk back because she didn't like that. 

She let you read, and she was even curious about your reading, asking you questions and taking notes as if this were just part of her regular college schedule, an office hour that had taken over her life. 

You shuddered sometimes as she stared up at you with those big eyes, so wide, and young, and naive, and full of hatred, and evil, and you wanted to claw them out and scream for help, and stab her with the pencil she wrote notes with, and stab, and stab, and stab, and-

The third thing you knew was that you'd never hold your baby in your arms because you'd be dead moments after they breathed their first breath.

You knew, because she had told you as much everyday since you'd woken up. 

In two months, Spencer had become more manic and self-destructive than he'd ever been in his entire life. 

His world centred around you, and finding you, even as his 3% slipped to 1%, slipped to 0.1%, and he knew deep inside that he'd never see you again. 

He hadn't returned to the BAU but had instead turned his home into an investigation room, emptying the walls so he could pin up information, evidence, pictures of you, everything he could find. It wasn't that he'd regained hope, but he'd grown so desperate that he suddenly gripped hard onto the only slither of it that he had left and refused to drop it. He was a dog that didn't know the game of fetch only conti he'd if he dropped the ball. His life would not go on without you.

So he searched. He knew how far along you were. He knew how far along a woman had to be for a c section, professionally performed or not. 

He barricaded himself into his house and paced for days as his friends pounded down his door. He let none in. He didn't go out. He wasn't sure what he ate, or drank, or if he slept, but he knew he paced, and he thought, and he came up with theories. 

After two months, Emily was tired of knocking. 

“Spencer Reid, I am coming in,” she shouted from behind the door. 

He usually ignored her. She couldn't pass the bookshelves he'd moved in front of the door anyway, even if his superintendent had given her a key. 

This time though, he heard a banging, a creak and a crash as the bookshelves went down and Emily, who had left him and returned, made her way inside his apartment. 

“You barricaded the door?” she said, looking at him. 

He took a shaky breath and tried to answer as she surveyed his apartment, the mess of papers, books, string on the wall. He saw her stare down at the pile of sheets on the floor where he'd been sleeping, the bag of your things he had dragged to be closer to him. 

He saw her look at the baby shoes, and baby grows he'd laid out neatly on the floor, and he saw the pitying look she turned on him. 

“She's pregnant,” he finally said out loud, though you must've been 7 months along by then. “I'm going to be a father.”

“Spencer,” Emily said, grasping his hand, voice cracking from the strain of emotion that coated her tongue, making her voice thick. “You would've been an amazing father.” 

“No. No-” he said, breaking away and moving back to his wall. “No past tense, I won't let you… I won't let you give up on them.” 

“It's been two months.” 

“So she's only seven months pregnant. I have two more months to find her, Emily. Two more. At least allow me that.” 

The tears in his eyes streamed freely now as she nodded. 

“We will…. you know we'll help you. We'll do everything we can, so come to the office.” 

He didn't want to give up his space. His reminders of you, the baby grows, the information he'd gathered.

Equally, he didn't like Emily being in this space. She thought you were already dead, and he couldn't even look her in the eye. 

Reluctantly, he nodded, lifting himself up on legs weakened by insurmountable grief, and he followed her to Quantico. 

By the end of your third trimester, you wondered how you could ever have gotten so big. When you gave birth, the child inside of you would only be the size of a small pumpkin. You felt like you'd swallowed five regular size pumpkins whole, and you felt you were still expanding. 

The point worried her. She'd broken two glasses in tantrums this last week alone, measuring you every day. 

The closer you got to birth, the more agitated she grew. 

“This demon inside of you is going to kill you. I won't even have to do it myself,” she'd whispered to herself, or to you, as she took your vitals that morning. 

“Please don't say that.” 

“Why not? You're a whore, and you're going to give birth to a devil. You have seduced my soul mate, because you are a jezebel and the Lord is punishing you.” 

You'd needed all the strength you could get for these conversations. Even one tear, and she'd erupt and put a knife at your neck. With only a few weeks left, there was no saying whether she'd speed her plan along. 

“I did not seduce your soul mate,” you said as calmly as you could muster, taking deep breaths, hoping that she would mirror them and calm down. 

“Do we have to watch the fucking video again?” she spat at you, stomping around to the side of your bed and pulling out her phone. She queued up the video quickly and you averted your eyes. 

She turned them back quickly, holding your head in place as she forced you to watch your own office space. She showed you the videos of you and Spencer talking, teasing each other. She showed you the video of you insisting you were not attractive to him. She showed you the video of Spencer fucking you on the sofa, though she screamed and cut her fingernails into her skin the entire way through. 

She even showed you the video of her attempting to seduce Spencer during their office hour. It was the first video in her collection, the first time she'd set up the camera. She used your entrance as proof that you were breaking her apart from her soul mate. From Spencer. 

You were a whore who had thrown herself at him in anyway you could, and you had trapped him with a baby. 

She was going to free him from all responsibility so he could be with her. 

“My baby will be your devil,” she said as the video ended, and you forced your heart to settle. 

“It is not your baby.”

“Spencer won't know that. He doesn't know it's your baby either, and who are the authorities going to believe when I show up with his child. One paternity test later, and I'll have him, and we can be a happy family together, and we can live happily. I'll take in your devil  and raise it as my own, and we'll forget about the whore who almost ruined it all.”

The psychosis was so clearly written on her face, you were surprised no one had caught onto her state yet. She was devolving. She'd been calm, and contemplative the first week. She'd laid out her plans still, her insane plans, and seemed somewhat coherent. 

Then she'd began rambling about the devil and soul mates, and you'd pitied her, even in your fear. 

Now you were just glad she counted your office tryst as your conception date, and you'd never corrected her. 

She still believed there was a month left until your death. You knew it was days. 

You just prayed your baby could buy you some time.

“Professor?” she said as she carried away the tray of items she'd checked your vitals with

“Yes.” 

“You are not in love with Spencer Reid,” she said, as if trying to convince you. 

“No,” you said, trying to convince yourself  though it was hopeless. “I am not in love with Spencer Reid.”

The first lead in the case came on your due date. Patient confidentiality was, happily, overlooked by a few doctors when he pressed the issue, needing to know until when he was counting down. 

He'd done the rough math himself, but he needed a professional opinion. 

The lead came in the form of an email. The university was cleaning out your office to make way for a new professor, despite his insistence that you'd return, and they needed him to collect things. 

And though he knew you'd be giving birth that day, and he had run out of time, something compelled him to go and do this menial task on today of all days. 

Luke had joined him, and then so had JJ and Emily, and Penelope and Tara. Rossi had even arrived to watch you pile books into boxes that were supposed to have lived on these shelves for a long career. Everyone in the room was so busy watching him, waiting for him to crack, that it had to be him to find it. 

At first, he thought it was a hole in the couch. It was so dark and black, its curved corners giving the illusion of introversion. Then he'd touched it and felt the rough bump. 

“Penelope, here, now,” he breathed out, gasping for air as he finally pulled the tiny spy camera free and thrust it into his friends hands. 

He had a lead. He had you now. 

The first hour of labour was inconvenient only because you weren't alone. She'd been tending to you all morning, fussing over your food, trying to maintain the right amount of prenatal vitamins as she usually did, but she'd ran out of two bottles, and the pharmacy wasn't open. 

You sat still and uncomfortable, trying to not even flinch as your water broke, too afraid of death to be thinking about the life you were bringing into this world. 

The second hour ticked by much the same until she left. 

The third came, and you ceased your screams of pain, even as your hands bore holes into your sheets. She returned, and you knew there wasn't much longer until she knew. 

By hour four, she had your legs spread and was watching you deliver your baby, and you knew the same blade that would sever your umbilical cord would also end your life. 

By hour five, you were so delirious with pain that you thought you saw Spencer. You heard his voice cooing to you as you pushed. You felt his hands wipe away your sweat, smooth the hair from your eyes. You heard his voice announce your daughters birth, and you felt his lips against your skin as you finally gave up fighting and drifted into oblivion. 

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hello omg I love your soft sylus writing a lot !!

May I request please a reader where she loves sylus so much that she tries to express it by words but can’t cause she is so shy and never done so and sylus encourage it and tease her

LOVE UR WRITING

You had something to say and it clear as day to Sylus that you were lost within the internal conflict raging on within your mind, weighing out the pros and cons of speaking truthfully of your heart to him. And while it was adorable to watch you squirm and struggle to articulate your thoughts into coherent sentences for the first five minutes, Sylus was soon aware that since your so hesitant in taking the first step, he’ll have to take the first step on your behalf by grabbing you by the wrist and pulling you onto his lap.

‘Somethings on your mind kitten, it’s eating away at you and I want to know what it is that’s been consuming you from the inside out.’ He says while tightening his grip on your wrist just enough to keep you from being able to pull away, but enough where he’s not bringing you to any harm. You could practically feel your heart in your throat as it righted in on itself, it didn’t help that Sylus’s crimson eyes were peering into you in a way that made it seem as though he knew but loved to watch you suffer. ‘I- I don’t-‘ you stopped before you could even say a full sentence as everything leading up to now had resurfaced in your mind.

You knew you loved Sylus, you have for a while now, but past experiences or close to the sort have made you hesitant in making the first move and into something more meaningful between the two of you. You remember times where you would wonder whether you’d be luckily enough to be blessed with having someone become interested in you, fully investing their time and energy into what you had to say, their eyes remained on you as though they couldn’t bring themselves to look at anyone else.

You wanted everything you’ve seen in movies or read in books so badly, but even if you did find someone who was interested by you, you tended to pull away before they could get close enough to see the real you and become distant because you didn’t fulfill their idea of you that was unrealistic. You couldn’t help it for after being on your own for a long while you have grown accustomed to the idea that you might be left to your own company, maybe have a cat and or a dog in the future to make up for the lack of connection. So the idea of sharing your space with anyone else has always made you feel seriously self conscious and unable to articulate your thoughts and feelings like you’d like to.

However soon Sylus came into your life and you felt the same way you did when you were still talking to the person you preciously liked. You felt jittery, scared, excited and eagerly anticipated when you’d next see Sylus again while occasionally on the look out for Mephisto. Yet once you realised what you were feeling, what you were doing, a cold sense of dread filled you and unfortunately Sylus’s actions towards you only made it even harder for you to deny what was happening between you two.

Sylus would go out of his way to hold you by the small of your back in crowded spaces, keeping you close proximity to him, lightly touch your shoulder or stand closer to you then normal and even get in your face to watch your expressions as he did some lighthearted teasing. He was in your personal space and he was everywhere you went, and since it happened so often it came to a point where you were actively seeking out the tall man with crimson eyes and snow/silvery hair without realising it. The implications scared you gravely to the point where recently you’ve tried to avoid Sylus…only for Luke and Kieran along with Mephisto to find you and inform Sylus before he greeted you in person.

Sylus took your chin in his free hand and moving your head so you were back to staring into his observant eyes rather than to your fiddling fingers. ‘Use your words kitten, after all I’ve got all the time for you to sort out what you want to say.’ He tells you as a smirk played upon his lips as he watched your eyes widened a tad and your breath hitched in your throat. Sylus then taps a finger against your lips softly, letting it linger there for a bit. ‘So speak your mind sweetheart, speak it to me and don’t be afraid of the consequences,’ he then leans forward to rest his head against yours as his eyes looked at your lips briefly before looking back into your eyes, ‘you might like what happens afterwards.’ He finishes as he caresses your jawline with his fingers.

‘Don’t.’ You tell him sternly, taking Sylus back a little. ‘Don’t say things like that if you’re just going to be giving me false promises and leave after I say it.’ You reiterated as you looked at his face as you felt a wave of embarrassment over come you as everything within you screamed to protect yourself.

‘What makes you think I won’t take what you say to me seriously? Have I given you any doubt to distrust me into thinking I would laugh at your innermost emotions?’ Sylus asked and when you didn’t respond his smirk faltered as a serious emotions overcame his face and he took a deep breath. ‘You know I would never laugh at your emotions right? What do I have to gain in knowing your feelings? For I would never use it against you, not when I know that I’d loose you and your trust for that matter.’ Sylus told you as he lets go of your wrist to hold your face between his palms instead, stroking your cheeks softly that you couldn’t help but melt into his touch.

‘I love you Sylus.’ You admitted softly but clearly enough for him to hear as his thumbs stopped caressing your cheeks. ‘I always knew I love you but didn’t want to say anything incase you’d find another person to call your muse, to call your kitten or sweetheart. Someone who can keep up with you where I can’t. I knew I couldn’t confess if I knew that this thing between us will never be anything but serious.’ You continued as you felt everything come to the surface, easing the weight upon your shoulders greatly as you could feel yourself breath properly once more.

Sylus didn’t say anything at first and it worried you, especially with the way he keeps his gaze locked on you as though nothing else mattered in this moment but you. It felt as though he could see right through you and directly into your soul and it made you feel a little exposed and vulnerable. It scared it greatly that your fears were proven right, so much that in the moment you tried to move yourself off of his lap, only for Sylus to pull you in closer to him by your face until you were touching noses and lips were ghosting over the others.

‘Sylus-‘ before you could finish your sentence, Sylus was quick to press his lips to yours as he began to weave his lips between yours with a tenderness and passion you weren’t expecting after confessing your innermost feelings. He held your face as though it was porcelain as he deeper the kiss, moving a hand to the back of your head to keep you close to him, all the while his other hand rested on your waist to pull you further into him as though you weren’t already physically close enough. It was passionate, sweet and warm as you found yourself putting your hands on his shoulders, bunching up the fabric of his expensive shirt under your grip as you melted into the kiss; wanting nothing but to forget everything else except the taste of his lips on yours.

Only for your lungs to burn, forcing you to pull away from him as you catches your breath.

Sylus smirked as he hurried his head into your neck, breathing heavily as his fingers traced your skin over your clothes lovingly while you rested your head against his shoulder, soaking in his warmth and comforting feeling you get from cuddling against his chest. ‘I told you I wouldn’t take you nor your emotions for granted kitten, why would I do that to the person I love?’ He says against your neck and you couldn’t help but smile goofily at his own confession as your heart fluttered.

You were glad that you finally got your feelings off of your chest…even if it did take a little nudge from your crimson eyed beloved to do so as you spent the rest of the evening in his arms and whispering sweet nothings to one another.

[sadhours]

You’re so talented and amazing that smut has me SWEATING!!!!

Plsssss part two with Steve taking readers virginity I beg

stop I love you!

cw: 18+ minors dni, smut, inexperienced reader, oral (f and m receiving), virginity loss, p in v, unprotected (sorry I can’t write any other way)

part one

requests are open!!

shockingly, when you went to Steve’s house that night, you two didn’t sleep together. Which was his idea. He said he felt like maybe you two oughta get to know each other better before you went that far. You were visibly upset by that but Steve insisted it would be better that way.

So that’s how you find yourself a couple weeks later, holding hands with him as you walk through the mall. If you didn’t know any better, you’d swear you were dating but Steve didn’t ask you to be his girlfriend. But you two have been spending almost every day together, after work and on your days off. Like today, the pair of you have the day off but you wind up at the mall anyway. He called you this morning and asked if you wanted to hang out. To which you told Steve you needed to get a new pair of shoes for work, since yours were falling apart and he offered to tag along. He even picked you up.

You make eye contact with your coworkers as the pair of you stroll passed the food court. They make crude hand gestures and so you squeeze Steve’s hand and walk faster. He’s none the wiser, eyes scanning around the crowded mall. You catch yourself staring at him. You’ve had this like, really intense feeling in your chest ever since you and Steve started hanging out. It’s tight, almost like your lungs don’t have enough air. And he’s literally all you think about, all you can talk about. Steve, Steve, Steve. On a loop, to a nauseating extent. Not nauseating to you, but most likely to your family and friends. But really, he’s so dreamy.

“Where do you usually get your work shoes?” Steve asks, grazing his thumb against the back of your hand.

“Sears,” you answer honestly. Steve’s parents are in a vastly different tax bracket than your own so you get a little self conscious about these kinds of things. You were incredibly impressed with his house. And it took a good convincing from him to let him come over to yours. Especially because while Steve’s parents weren’t home when you went over there, yours were at yours always. And they were embarrassing, even though you were an adult now, they hovered. And you couldn’t close your door when he came over. Your mom about talked his ears off, too but Steve was charming and when he left, your mom told you he was sweet and she liked him.

“Cool,” he nods, “What do you wanna do after this?”

You shrug, walking into the entrance of Sears, “I don’t know.”

“We can use my pool,” he offers, “It’s really nice out, today.”

You blush, the thought of being in your swimsuit in front of Steve is kind of a lot. Even though you two have messed around, you’ve been almost completely dressed each time. Really, you’ve just been doing the same thing— dry humping but Steve always pulls your tits out. He actually stares at them sometimes, gets this look on his face that makes you feel like a million bucks. His eyes get all glassy and he looks dazed as he watches them bounce with your movements. It makes you feel sexy and you’ve never felt that way in your life. But being so exposed in broad daylight is rather intimidating.

“Yeah, maybe,” you reply shyly, cheeks ruddy at the thought of him seeing your body. “We’d have to go get my swimsuit, though.”

“We’re at a mall,” Steve chuckles, “You can just buy one.”

Well, you didn’t anticipate spending too much today. But again, you’re embarrassed so you won’t say that. You just shrug, “If I can find one.”

“I can help,” he grins, eyebrows raising as he nudges his side against you. Which just makes your face ten times more flushed. “Oh, look!” Steve points to the section of the store lined with swimsuits, “Perfect.”

The pair of you head that way. Steve motions at a red bikini, which is not something you’d usually wear. You’re a one piece kind of girl. But now that you’re thinking about it, the swim suit you have at home isn’t exactly sexy. And really, you want Steve to look at you with that dreamy look in his eyes again.

“That one’s nice,” he says, “And my trunks are red, so we’ll match.”

You pick up the top, looking it over when you realize you have no idea how to tell your size. You’re gonna have to try it on. “I need to try it on,” you tell Steve and grab a few sizes before making your way to the dressing rooms, Steve right behind you.

Much to Steve’s dismay, you don’t show him the bikini but you get the right size and get your pair of shoes. Steve buys you a smoothie on the way out. But what he does on the ride to his house is really what gets you. As he’s driving, he reaches his hand over and rests it on your thigh. His palm against your bare thigh makes them all tingly and you feel like the car is suddenly really hot, so you roll down the window. Looking out because you’re too shy to look at him. Steve squeezes your thigh and you clear your throat, shifting in your seat.

“You alright?” he asks, turning to you briefly.

“I’m fine,” you choke out as you look at him.

“Is this okay?” he squeezes your thigh again.

You swallow the lump rising in your throat and nod your head yes, “Yeah, it feels nice.”

“Good,” he smiles, his eyes crinkling with it and he’s the prettiest boy you’ve ever seen.

❤️❤️❤️❤️

You’re really nervous, fixing your hair as you look in the mirror. You wished Steve gave you a towel to cover up with before you changed because now you have to make an entrance… in this bikini that feels like it barely covers anything. You swear one wrong move and your boobs gonna fly right out. But you think, Steve won’t mind that.

His face confirms it when you finally walk out onto the back patio, seeing Steve laying towels out on the pool loungers. He drops the towel in his hand and his lips part, holding his hand above his brows to shield the sun as he gawks at you. And thankfully, his reaction gives you a breath of confidence and you strut over to him, “Not too bad, huh?”

“Fucking unbelievable,” he breathes through a satisfied smile, “You look amazing.” His hand comes to rest on the back of your waist, dipping his face down to kiss your cheek.

“Steve!” you flush, bringing your hands up to your face. He grabs your wrists and kisses all over face, repeating that you look great over and over. You erupt in giggles, grabbing his hands and pull back.

“What? Too much?” he asks, looking down at you with those gorgeous puppy dog eyes.

“I think… you need to cool off,” you say slyly before shoving him into the pool, jumping in right after him. Steve’s laughing when he comes up from the water, swimming over to you and wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Good one,” he muses, looking fond, “Very clever.”

“I’m glad you thought so,” you giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck. He kisses you then, and immediately you melt. Kissing Steve is like otherworldly. It’s like everything around you disappears and it’s just you two. His lips are soft yet firm, kissing you determinedly. His hands are big, cascading up and down your sides.

But then he pulls away and smiles, “Wanna race? I bet I can swim from this end to the other faster than you.”

“You’re on,” you bet and start swimming to the edge of the pool.

❤️❤️❤️❤️

After you two get out of the pool, your body is all tingly and needy. You dry off and can’t keep your eyes off of Steve’s body as he dries off. Eyes scanning over the constellations of moles scattering over his chest, arms and back. He catches you, biting is lip as he’s drying his hair.

“Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“I think… I want…” you take a deep breath as your face flushes.

“What is it? You okay?” he asks, tilting his head as he gets a look of concern in his eyes.

“I think I’m ready,” you tell him, “ya know.. to do it.”

“Really?” he drops his towel, looking surprised.

“Uh huh,” you nod as you smile, so sure of yourself.

He grabs your hand and practically pulls you up to his bedroom. You fall back on his mattress and he’s crawling up between your legs, palm meeting your cheek gently as he crashes his lips into yours. It’s different than kisses before. Steve seems more urgent, more needy. His hands feel you everywhere, squeezing and pulling wherever he can. It’s intoxicating and makes your stomach twist, full of desire. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him even closer and you can feel his cock strained behind his swim trunks rubbing against your core. It’s familiar, but a bit more charged. There’s more coming and it has your back arching. Steve breaks the kiss, “You’re sure?”

“Yes,” you nod, writhing against him, “I’m sure.”

“Cool,” he breathes, moving his fingers to untie your bikini top and he pulls it off. His lips find your jaw, leaving sloppy open mouthed kisses wherever they can. Down your neck and over the curve of your breasts, then you feel his tongue against your perked nipple and you whine, knitting your fingers in his damp hair.

He flicks his tongue against it, looking up at your face as he broadly licks it before sucking it between his lips. You gasp, tilting your head back as you try to grind against him harder. You’re desperate for more friction there. Steve moans against your supple skin, and then his lips work lower. Down your stomach. And you no longer have his erection to grind against but his fingers dip into the waistband of your bottoms. Your breath catches in your throat, looking down at him in anticipation. He looks so pretty, the sunlight shining through the half closed curtains in his bedroom and casting beautifully on his strong eyebrows and sharp nose.

Steve peels your bottoms down your thighs and you move your legs to help him, hands moving to cover your chest. Otherwise, completely exposed to him. Steve kisses your hipbone, spreading your legs with his hands and then moves his mouth between them. Starts with kissing your thighs, but when he actually gets his mouth on your pussy, you cry out. It’s pleasure in a way you’ve never felt and it’s white hot, feel it everywhere. He licks through your folds, humming softly as he does so. It’s so warm and wet and lovely. Uses his plump lips when he does it, grazing against your folds. And he puts his mouth completely on you, sucks on your folds and his thumb lowers down to your hole, rubbing teasing circles around it and you gasp out. Eyes closing involuntarily as you tilt your head back, focused solely on how incredible this feels.

It’s almost pathetic how quickly he makes you cum, your cry breaks off as it leaves your lips and your thighs squeeze his head while you ride it out. Steve watches you with a look of shock on his face, flattery, really. Impressed with himself at quick he made that happen. Smoothes his palms along the soft skin of your legs as he forces them open, coming up for air. His cheeks are flushed, a pretty pink blooming over them and the tip of his nose.

“Christ,” he exhales, fingers digging into the fat of your thighs as he beams up at you. “You okay, princess?”

Your chest heaves while you come down, eyes blinking open as you let out a sigh. The pet name makes your chest tighten, you want Steve to say it again, over and over. “So okay,” you gasp out as you sit up and look down at him.

He smiles cheekily, nudging his nose against your shaking thighs as he blinks up at you, “You’re sensitive, huh?”

“Nobody’s ever done that to me,” you admit, tucking your hair behind your ear as you flush.

He chuckles softly, keeps nuzzling against your thigh as he smoothes his palms down your calves. “You sure you wanna keep going?”

You nod enthusiastically at him, “W-wanna make you feel good.”

Steve pushes you on your back, gets himself on top of you and places a chaste kiss against your lips, mumbles against them, “That made me feel really good.”

Your hands find his hair, carding in the locks as you kiss his words and roll your hips up to meet him, “I wanna keep going. Maybe I can try.. returning the favor.”

The boy grunts softly into your mouth, the corners of his lips hitching up, “You ever done that before?”

“No,” you pout, feeling a little self conscious but more than that, eager. “I’m a really fast learner, though.”

“I’m.. I,” Steve laughs, breath hot against your mouth, “Might need a break after, but… hell, we’ve got all night.”

“A break?” you ask curiously and Steve nods against you, foreheads bumping together. He cups your cheek, kisses you tenderly.

“Mhm, can’t go again as quick,” he mumbles into your lips, grounds his hips down and you can feel him through his swim trunks. Hard and firm against your sensitive cunt.

You pull him back slightly, looking up at him tenderly as you say, “I really wanna try.”

He laughs again, breathless and it’s not mean, it makes your heart warm. The sound of him. Pretty and sweet. Makes you that much eager to please; to impress.

Steve rolls onto his back, inches up against his pillows and looks at you, eyes dark despite the fond smile spreading on his face. You sit beside him and your fingers find the elastic of his shorts, inching inside and looking up at him for guidance. He nods, short and soft. You pull down his damp trunks and his cock bounces out, long and thick against his abdomen. He helps rid of the shorts completely, kicking them off his ankles and then he rakes his fingers through your hair. Tilts his head as he looks down at you and says, “Just do what feels natural, princess.”

Your cheeks heat at the name, blooming down your neck and chest. Curious fingers graze down his length, Steve breathes out a pretty sound— almost a whine, kind of a sigh. Then you wrap your fingers around him, biting your lip at the warmth and weight. He inhales sharply, nodding at you as you lean forward and press your lips to the tip. Experimentally, you lick against the head of his cock and then drag your tongue across the edge of it. Steve groans, keeps stroking your cheek and forehead as he watches you with pupils blown wide.

“That’s it, baby,” he breathes out, “doing so good already.”

You’ve still got your fingers circled around his shaft, holding his cock up as you lick the tip like an ice cream cone. But you know you’re supposed to suck, that’s what you’ve been told at least. So you wrap your lips around the head and do just that. It punches a pretty sound from Steve’s throat, distinctly a whine. So you do it again and again and Steve keeps making that sound over and over before he says, “Move your hand, princess. Slow, up and down.”

Head feeling all dizzy, you listen and slowly stroke his cock up and down. But it’s kinda awkward— dry. You think it would work smoother if your palm was wet so you pull away and lick your hand before returning it to Steve’s cock, and you were right, the movement is so much easier like this and Steve moans, eyes blinking rapidly as he watches you.

“Such a fast learner, good girl,” he pants out and you’re smiling, cheeks swelling before you take his tip back between your lips.

You like this— a lot. Grinding down against the mattress for some friction, thighs all hot and slick with arousal. It’s the way he reacts, the sounds he makes and the way his face contorts in pleasure. Steve was pretty before but he looks even prettier like this. He bites at his lower lip, makes it even pinker and plumper. You sink a little more of him into your mouth, careful with your teeth as you swirl your tongue around his swollen tip and then suck. Your jaw aches slightly but it’s so worth it. Steve’s fingers slide into the roots of your hair, gripping softly as he moans out little encouragements.

“So pretty, so pretty like this.”

And it’s kind of silly because you think he looks so pretty like this. You squeeze his shaft a little tighter as you stroke him, out of pure excitement and Steve groans, guttural and low as he swears, “Fuuuuck.”

You suck harder on his tip and continue moving your fingers up and down his length, curving your palm on each upstroke because Steve’s eyes roll back slightly and you want more of that.

“Just like that— holy—- fuckfuckfuck,” Steve pants and moans, “I’m gonna cum.”

Out of pure curiosity, you don’t pull off. Because also, when you came, Steve didn’t pull away. He makes a choked, broken sound and releases, hot and thick on your tongue. And you’d heard all your coworkers complain about the taste but Steve is sweet, not bitter like you’ve been told. You don’t hate the taste at all, though the texture is another story. But you swallow it down all the same and Steve’s watching and gasping for air as you pull away. He grabs hold of your face, pulls you close and then wraps his arms around your body, kissing you fiercely, bruisingly.

❤️❤️❤️❤️

It happens later. Steve’s parents away on yet another business trip, a white lie told to yours about staying the night at a friends and there you are. On his couch. Steve laid on his back, you nestled between his thighs with your cheek on his chest and his legs tangled with you. He plays with your hair as the TV plays late night informercials. You’re not paying attention, mind wandering as you subtly take in the smell of Steve. Musk and summer, his honey scented shampoo and the sugary candy you two shared on his breath. Fans your face hotly and lovely. Tickles against the ridge of your brows, cascades down to your nostrils and it’s rather intoxicating. Ushers you to lift your face and inch up his body, wanting to taste as you brush your lips against his. His hand snakes down your spine, onto the soft skin at the small of your back, your shirt pulled up just slightly. Steve kisses you back tenderly, sighing so softly you almost miss it.

A thought tugs at the back of your head and you ask against his lips, “What are we?”

Steve hums, eyebrow raising as he smiles, “What do you mean?”

“Like… we spend every day together, we kiss, we… do other stuff,” you swallow hard, chest tightening with fear as you repeat, “So what are we?”

He nudges his nose against yours, “What do you wanna be, princess?”

“Yours,” you admit, a whisper. Almost silent.

“You are mine,” Steve replies, squeezing your hip in his hand. You flush something mad, trying to surprise the giggle of excitement from bubbling out of your throat. It’s fruitless, the sound erupting from you as your cheeks swell. Steve kisses you again, softly and asks against your lips, “You wanna be my girlfriend, princess?”

You nod as you kiss back, “Mhm.”

“Then you’re my girlfriend,” Steve agrees easily, his breath smells so sweet, makes your head all fuzzy.

“And you’re my boyfriend?” you test, hand moving up to cup his jaw.

“You better believe it,” he mumbles, you can hear the smile but even better you can feel it against your lips. You kiss him again, more intent behind it this time— fingernails softly scratching at his jaw. Steve drags his tongue along your bottom lip, asking to deepen the kiss which you eagerly agree as you part your lips. He tastes like candy, tooth achingly sweet when you welcome his skilled tongue against your own. It heats up quick, your hips dancing together as the pair of you pant into each others mouths. Steve’s hands lower to the fat of your ass, kneading and pulling. Your thighs feel all tingly, core aching with desperation for him.

You’re determined, you’ve been wanting Steve in that way for so long it feels like and he’s been taking his time with you. Testing the waters when you would’ve handed it over to him that first night in Scoops Ahoy!

“Stevie,” you pant against his mouth, “need you.”

“You have me, princess,” he retorts, smiling sweetly as he uses his leverage on your ass to grind you down against him. You can feel his length, hard and firm against your core and you whimper, needy.

“Need you— Steve, want you so bad,” you babble into his mouth as you writhe against him.

He taps your bum, “Up. Bedroom.”

You obey, don’t have to be told twice, holding his hand as he leads you to his bedroom. He kisses you once you’re inside, guides you backwards until the backs of your knees hit the mattress and you fall into it, pulling Steve with you, refusing to pull your lips away from his. Which is a feat when you two start undressing one another. When you do have to pull away to rid of articles, you whine and Steve chuckles, gives you what you want seconds later. Smoothes his hands down your naked body as he licks into your mouth. He pulls back, on his knees between your legs as he licks the tips of his fingers and brings them to your core, exhaling sharply once he’s met with the evidence of just how much you need him.

This is it, you think. As he licks his fingers again and smears the saliva over his aching tip, guiding it towards your entrance and you whine out, just when skin meets skin. Readier than ever, overwhelmingly desperate to feel Steve inside you. Your back arches as he sinks in, just the tip of him stretching you open. It’s pleasure incarnate, radiates through your stomach and eats at all your nerves.

“More,” you plead, grabbing onto his biceps as you roll your hips. Steve sinks in deeper and it’s a little intense, searing and hot and also so, so, so perfect. Pulls a high pitched moan from you. Steve’s rubbing soothing circles against your stomach.

“Tell me if it’s too much, yeah?”

You nod, digging your nails into his skin. Making little crescent indents. He lowers his mouth to yours, grazing your lips together as he sheathes his cock deeper inside. You gasp out, eyes clenching tightly at the burn. Steve kisses you through it, whispers words of encouragement there. Princess this and princess that. Pushes through this barrier and it’s all white hot pleasure. Bright light behind your eyelids as you moan out appreciation, adoration, desperation. His hips still, giving you the opportunity to adjust. Kisses you stupid with sugary sweetness. Tastes just like candy. Your hands are all over him, chest, stomach, shoulders, neck and back. Crying out soft little praising sounds.

He grits his teeth, eyebrows tangled as he pleads, “Please— princess, can I move?”

“Please,” you beg, “Gimme…” the thoughts lost as Steve winds his hips back and pushes them back down into you. A moan interrupting, voice wrecked already and Steve swallows it, kisses it away as he rolls his hips steadily. Keeps this rhythm that has your eyes rolling back and steady, candied uh-uh-uh’s fall from your lips.

Steve’s left hand holds himself up, palm to the mattress while his right grips tightly at your hip. Your legs open, ankles hooking over the backs of his thighs and your hands are still everywhere, taking in whatever you can. The way he’s stretching you out and filling you up at the same time is intoxicating, euphoria dripping all over you. You’re almost mad that you’d waited so long but it’s all too perfect. And maybe Steve’s been right and waiting is what made this moment the best thing you’ve ever experienced.

His lips are brutal against yours, pushing and pulling. Desperate and hungry. These pretty grunts and moans mushing against your lips.

“Steve,” you whine out, “god…”

He moves to grab your jaw, tilting your head back into the pillows as he moves his hips quicker, harder. Makes your head spin, the coil in your stomach winding tighter and tighter. All you can really do is lay back and take it, mind gone all numb. Your hips search his out, rocking back into him with every thrust. The tip of his cock reaching something fierce and overwhelming inside you. Brushes against this spot so wonderfully that tears prick your eyes, threatening to spill over onto your cheeks.

“So perfect for me,” he mumbles into your mouth, “so pretty, so fuck— fucking gorgeous, princess.”

This wave rushes up on you like nothing before, punches the breath out of your lungs as you grip onto his back, nails scratching down the mole specked skin and Steve groans roughly against your mouth. Your eyes are open but you’re blinded by stars, exploding like fireworks as your eyebrows furrow and you emit a sound so loud, bordering on a cry. It’s like the drop of a roller coaster but a million times more intense, you’re not on this earth for the seconds it happens. Legs wrapping around his waist, crying out during the aftershocks of it. Steve’s panting against your lips, little whines and moans. Pretty sounds that just elongate the utter ecstasy ripping through your body.

“Fuckfuck— shit, princess, I’m gonna—“ Steve pulls out of you abruptly, fingers gripping around his cock as he spills over onto your stomach. Makes a choked and broken sound as he does it, your eyes are on his face. Watching the pleasure contort his features in a way that has you obsessed. He pants, chest heaving as he pushes his hair back. Catches his breath, leans down and kisses you softly before exiting the bed. You whine in protest, reaching your hands out for him.

Steve smiles sweetly at you, grabs a dirty towel from his hamper and moves to wipe his cock. You watch in awe, still coming back down to earth. He moves back towards the bed, using the towel to clean off your stomach. He drops it to the floor and curls up next you, pulling your face to his and kisses you stupid.

“Worth the wait?” he asks, teasingly.

You giggle and say against his lips, “When can we do it again?”

He laughs, pulling your body flush to his as he says, “You’re gonna kill me, princess.”

[mylovejimimi]

When three is a party, and you're the piñata | TH&JK ONE SHOT

— PAIRING: boyfriend!taehyung x fem!reader x bf'sbestfriend!jungkook — GENRE: smut +18. minors dni — WARNINGS: teasing, dirty talk, a threesome (duh), vaginal sex, oral sex (f&m receiving/giving), mild ass play, pussy slapping (but like two or so), ass slapping (like three times), LOTS of fluids, LOTS of spit (not apologizing lmao), breast playing, kinda dom!tae and dom!kook, a tiny tiny twinge of mxm, a lil angsty at some point but fluffy at the end, reader is bamboozled lol — SUMMARY: Jungkook disliked you, that's for sure. Then, why is he insinuating he wants to fuck you? And why did your boyfriend simply invited him to your bed to do so (or, better said, do you)? — WORDS: 8k (oopsy) Maybe I went a little overboard with this one lol but i added some plot!!! It came out a lot tamer than I thought tho and I changed some bits but I hope you like it anon!! I enjoyed writing the wild smut lmao Anyways please remember you can send me a tip by buying me a ko-fi if you like my works, it will meant the world to me ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

Ever since you met the boys, their own friendship dynamics were as clear as the shots of vodka Jimin made you gulp down on weekends. Sometimes, Jin and Yoongi would go for a drink and complain about their ages and the youngest and things like that; in that same way, Jin would drag Jimin to a wine testing, or Yoongi would be cooped up with Namjoon in the studio, or Hoseok would help the two eldest with choreographies, or the maknaes would go shopping with Hoseok and so on. It was obvious to you that they had a very strong bond and had some kind of symbiotic relationship. But out of all of them, the two youngest seemed to be the more symbiotic of all.

When Hoseok introduced you to the group, you all clicked just as fast as you had clicked with Hoseok before (which was why he thought you should meet his friends). Soon enough, you were one of them, all eight of you inseparable – until Taehyung confessed his feelings for you, and you kind of been crushing hard on him the whole time. So, there began the first relationship in a big group of single men, and so, things had to shift a little to accommodate a couple. You were relieved, though, because the boys had taken it very well and were all happy and rooting for the both of you – well, almost all of them.

You never felt any animosity between you and Jungkook, though you always felt he didn’t like you as much as the rest. He was rather indifferent to you, in your humble opinion. Oh, but once you started dating Taehyung, his bestest friend in life? Just then you understood what real animosity was like: whenever you were around the boys, Jungkook would either talk to you curtly and unfriendly or not acknowledge your presence at all; other times he would just glare at you, making you feel self-conscious, even that one time in summer when you put on a new sundress and everybody complimented you and you felt pretty for once; and he even went as far as excusing himself to escape to the bathroom whenever you sat down next to him. Of course, you attributed this one-sided rivalry to that fantastic decision to fall in love with his best friend and taking him away from him, but you always made sure to never talk to Taehyung about the way Jungkook seemed to hate you, to avoid unnecessary conflicts.

But then one night...

“Y/N” Jimin sang, in his drunken state of being. “Can you be a dear and bring more beer?”

“Why me? You just told Jungkook to do it.” Just as tipsy, your reply sounded whiner than you wanted, but you met Jimin’s gaze with a frown. Then, you looked at Jungkook, completely inhibited when you said: “He told you to do it.”

“I don’t want to. Got a problem with it?” You gaped at the maknae’s answer, but you would not let yourself be ran over by this big brat of a boy.

“Yes, I have a problem with it. Move your fucking ass or I will move it.” The other boys shouted a collective ‘ohhhh’ at the exchange. Okay, maybe you were going a little bit too far with your attitude but you had lost count of how many drinks you downed and that was enough to excuse your attitude. “Get the fucking beers.”

“Come here and make me” he spitted, holding your stare from across the room. And just to provoke you further, he sat comfortably against the sofa, spreading his legs and tilting his chin to you. You felt some kind of way because in any other person, it would be a suggestive invitation. He even put his hand on his crotch! But it was Jungkook, so you didn’t think much of it.

“Oh, you better be sure I will.” However, before you could get up to do God knows what, Yoongi stepped in.

“I will go, you brats” he sighed, getting up from his seat. Your eyes didn’t left Jungkook’s though, and neither did his, even arching his brow to you. You scoffed and looked at your boyfriend beside you.

“Well, thank you Jungkook and Y/N for that interesting exchange. But I wanted to propose a little game to keep up the good spirits” Jimin smiled brightly and devilish directly at you. Your heart dropped a little. Park Jimin usually had the power of making you expose yourself, just because you were hot-headed and argumentative. “Do you all remember that game we played once, where we had to tease each other until one caved in? I mean, now we have a girl, it should be more entertaining.” Oh no. Your boyfriend squeezed your sides.

“I won’t play” you said, crossing your arms. “TaeTae?” But your lover ignored you in favor of smiling at Jimin.

“Why not? Are you afraid, Y/N? Afraid I might steal your man?” Jimin taunted you. He looked at Jungkook, before looking at you again. “Or are you afraid of being teased by Jungkookie?”

“What?!” You were genuinely startled at his insinuation. Another chorus of ‘ohhh’ filled the room. What was going on with these guys? “I’m not. I will play your stupid game.”

“Then, why don’t you sit beside our maknae and start the round?” And Jimin smiled like the Cheshire cat. Why was he so pressing about Jungkook? Was it because you snapped back at him earlier? Because of your general distance towards him? Jimin was sadist enough to laugh at his friends struggling; it could be anything.

You got up to sit near Jungkook, not close enough to be in his personal space, though you were expecting him to glare at you as always. But he didn’t. In fact, he looked at you briefly and gave you a small smile. Was he taunting you too?

“Y/N” Jungkook began, starry eyes shiny with drunken glow on yours, equally shiny and glowing. He moved one of your locks behind your shoulder. “Do you still enjoy getting it from behind like you said once?” The question came in a low, low tone, accompanied by a sleazy smile. He started strong but you didn’t budge.

“I do. Wanna try it? Want me to peg you?” You smiled, tilting your head sweetly. Once more, your public reacted in chorus.

“If I get to put something between those two, then yes.” And he ogled at your breast, causing your nipples to harden just a twinge.

“But could you? Won’t you wet your pants just by talking to a woman?” His eyes darkened and you felt the physical need to bit your lip.

“Leave it to me and the only wet things here would be my tongue and you.” A smirk and a wink but with a completely serious tone – like it was an invitation and a promise. The guys went crazy, laughing and shouting things you didn’t get. If you didn’t know better, your alcohol-induced reasoning would tell you that Jungkook was kinda flirting with you. Why was your boyfriend just laughing about it?

“You sure about that? You always look like you don’t know what is a pussy. Want me to show you one and give you a blowie out of pity?” He scoffed, now getting agitated. You tried to ignore how he flexed his muscles and when he tensed his jaw – but it was near impossible to ignore the way he rearranged his bulge mindlessly.

“I do know, baby.” In his growling voice, the pet name sounded almost menacing… and very exhilarating. Deep down you, you wanted to keep hearing him calling you all sorts of names. “And I’m not your boyfriend. A ‘blowie’ is not enough for what I have here.”

“Yah! Don’t bring me into your dumb beach off” your boyfriend complained with a pout. Running out of ideas, you drank the half glass of whiskey that Yoongi left on the coffee table, expecting to get creative once the alcohol got on your bloodstream. You saw Jungkook mirror you with his beer.

“Doesn’t seem like it,” you continued. “I’m actually looking at your boner right now and it is very underwhelming.” Jimin cackled at that, the rest of them giggled. Jungkook had the tip of his ears red.

“Let me shut your mouth with it and see if it is that underwhelming,” and he put his big hand on your knee, squeezing. “babygirl.”

You inhaled deeply, because his hand was not only on you. No no, Jungkook played dirty and started stroking your thigh up and down subtlety. Was it bad? Yes, absolutely, because you felt a tingling between your legs and a confusing desire to be touched. But bad enough to accept defeat? Absolutely no. Instead of caving in, you changed strategies: you smiled your seductive smile, and placed your hand softly on his biceps.

“Is it as big as your arms, Jungkookie? You promise to make me choke on it?” His hand on you faltered. Everybody was silent for some reason. “You promise to make me swallow my words while I swallow it?” Those even weren’t the biggest weapons in your arsenal, and yet it had the effect you wanted: Jungkook stood up and almost ran to the bathroom.

“You think he went to jack off?” Hoseok asked Jin, who nodded.

“Yah!” you yelled at them. “Jimin, your game is shit.” You were in serious need of a drink that wasn’t alcohol-based, so you stood up and went to the kitchen, catching a ‘but it was real fun to me’ from Jimin in your way out.

“Looks like you and Jungkookie are having fun together, uh?” your boyfriend said casually, coming behind you. You scoffed.

“If you can call that fun,” you grunted, taking a sip from a random water bottle you found on the counter. You needed anything that could calm you down. “Whatever, at least he seems to be loosing up. I don’t know, he’s a dumbass but I rather have him talking bullshit than to be shy and silent around me.” Taehyung smirked and looked at you intently, as if he was internally laughing at you because of something you don’t know. And you know your boyfriend. He was definitely laughing internally at you because of something you don’t know. You frowned. “What is it?”

“What is what?” Taehyung replied, smirk intact, while getting close enough to you to put every inch of his front against yours and his hands on your waist. Suddenly, the air shifted, and new tensions began arising between your two bodies. Despite being in someone else’s home, you would be lying if you denied how your boyfriend was turning you on.

“Why are you laughing at my expense?” He did laugh at that, eclipsing your clarity for a moment with that beautiful laughter that you adored since the first time.

“I just love your innocence.” His hands ascended under your shirt from their place on your waist to the underside of your boobs, nearly cupping them, making your breath hitch. You were way too conscious of being in Hoseok’s kitchen, looking at the door while Taehyung touched you almost indecently, but his eyes never strayed from your face. “Look what you did, baby: you made me hard at my friends’ gathering with that silly game and your silly, bratty mouth.” And he thrusted a little, so you would feel his fattened and restrained member on you.

As soon as you opened your mouth to cuss at him for his antics, your boyfriend wasted not even a second to put his mouth and yours, dizzying you with a kiss that you doubted was appropriate to experience in someone else’s kitchen. His mouth was way too enthusiastic, his touch all over your body, and you knew it was not leading to a normal quickie. No, he was properly devouring you whole; sucking at your lips, tongue trying to go deeper inside your cavity, hands moving all the way down to knead your ass. You tried wondering what had him so worked up but your mind couldn’t focus on nothing but his tongue in your mouth, deliciously licking everywhere inside – and you had no choice but to reciprocate with the same intensity. You couldn’t judge your boyfriend, because you were just as worked up yourself. Playing with Jungkook was fun at first but then it became serious. And so did the situation in your panties: the moment he put his strong hand on your knee? You felt yourself getting slightly wet, whole core warming… which you knew was completely fucked up. Shame woke you up when Tae’s fingertips went under your skirt and made contact with your inner thigh.

“Taehyung!” you whisper-shouted once you separated from his face, but his hands stayed firmly on your body. “It’s rude to be doing this here.”

“But, baby…” he whined and moved a calculated inch so you could feel his very rigid bulge on your upper thigh. No, as much as you wanted it, it was not right to do it at your friend’s place. You still had some dignity.

“No, seriously, what if someone walks in and sees us like this?” And of course, the universe wanted its turn to laugh at you, because in that exact moment your words were commands. Jungkook entered the kitchen looking at his phone, immediately lifting his head at your words, watching you in all your glorious just-made-out-hotly, lipstick-stained face, boyfriend’s hands under your clothes. He was paralyzed, you were paralyzed, and Taehyung snorted. Not knowing what to do, you just blurted an “I’ll go to the bathroom”, and flew the scene.

…

On the way back home, once the alcohol’s effects wore out, you couldn’t stop thinking about everything that transpired between you and Jungkook. It was mostly playful, none of it insinuating — not even the touch on your knee. And here you were, twisting it for some sort of unconscious reason. Did you like Jungkook? Did you not love Taehyung anymore? How could you be so disgusting? It was undeniable how your body reacted to the maknae, getting weak with nothing more than a simple touch. What kind of girlfriend that made you? The cheating, slutty one for sure. You felt like crying, guilt eating you up fast.

 “You had been very quiet since the thing in the kitchen, love.” Tae mentioned when you left your shoes at his apartment door. You turned around to look at him absently, and he smiled tenderly to you, caressing your face. “Everything alright? I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

“It’s okay, baby, it was not that serious. I’m fine.” You lied. Unable to bear the loving look in your boyfriend’s eyes, you turned on your heels and headed towards his room, ready to hide underneath the covers forever. You were so bad at pretending.

The guilt and growing sadness were bad enough that you skipped your skincare, taking your make up off with a wet towel and going to bed on a shirt that was laying around and panties, instead of your precious silk pajama that matched Taehyung’s. By the time your lover got under the covers, you were on your side at the verge of crying, not wanting to see his face or else you would break down right there.

“My angel,” Tae started whispering on your ear. “I don’t know what’s wrong but just know that you can tell me whenever you’re ready.” You have to tell him, your conscience kept urging you. You had to tell him. It was so wrong and you knew it would break his heart, but all the love you had for him was enough motivation to tell the truth.

You shifted and faced him, your whole heart shrinking at the pure love that was on his face. All that love for you. And you ruined it.

As much as you wanted, no words left your mouth, but it was not needed because Taehyung kissed you, slowly, lovingly. It would be the last time, so you decided to enjoy it. You would miss the way he was nipping at your lower lip, probing it with the tip of his tongue for you to give him access. You would miss the way his hands always go directly to massage your breasts, his favorite habit since that one time you told him they were sensitive. You would miss the way he couldn’t resist you, hating to waste time with too much teasing, being the most efficient and desperate lover you had.

In no time, he threw the covers to the edge of the bed, caging you with his thighs between his warm body and the mattress. His mouth left yours to kiss a wet trail towards your neck, nipping and lapping from the spot under your ear to the point where your neck and shoulder met. You whined, because your neck was pretty sensitive too, and it only served to spur him on. He decided that near the base of your neck was a good place for hickies, so he sucked enthusiastically, kitten-licking the tender marks. While his mouth worked on your upper body, his always wandering hand caressed all its way to your panties, took them off in one movement and shamelessly pressed two fingers in your center. You hadn’t realized until that very moment that you were drenched.

“Shit, baby, what has you this wet already?” Taehyung exhaled in a deep, deep voice. Oh no. The spike in your hormones dropped suddenly and your whole body grew cold and rigid. You remembered and the emotions buried you like an avalanche. A sob escaped you, followed by tears and more sobs. “Love, love, wait, what’s wrong? Talk to me, please.”

“I- I can’t tell you. You will hate me…” you mumbled. Taehyung never stopped fondling your folds thru the panties.

“I could never hate you, baby. Not even if you leave me, not even if you fuck my best friend.” You looked at him like a deer in headlights, tensing from head to toe. He picked up the change in your energy and, honestly, deep down, he was enjoying the situation a little, tremendously excited for the surprise he had for you. Despite your reaction, he slowly stroked your folds, soaking his hold hand in your wetness. “Babe? Something to tell me? Maybe that Jungkookie made you wet tonight?” It was not possible to open more your eyes and yet, you did. Your heart was about to explode, scared shitless for being caught.

“N-no, no…” you mumbled, suddenly losing your capacity for communicating. So many things you wanted to say, apologies in every language, and the only thing you could do was to let out tiny tears at the corners of your eyes. To spice things up, Taehyung took the liberty of putting one finger on your clit, drawing circles. You inhaled sharply, electricity running thru every nerve in your body.

“Angel, don’t lie to me. I saw the whole thing. He was after you as he had always been, but our little Jungkookie can’t keep jerking off to the memory of you in a sundress forever, don’t you think?” You gaped at him, partially for his mastered skills on your pussy, partially for all the information he was dropping on you. After you? Always been? The sundress episode?! Your boyfriend gave you The Look: that look that promised to give you something so wicked but oh so fucking good, that you will be on the clouds for days.

He simply smiled at you, as sweet as ever. You sensed something big was about to happen.

“Babe, do you think you could handle both of us? Or is my baby too weak to take two cocks at the same time?” Blank. Nothing. Not even a fleeting, coherent thought crossed your mind. Of all things that could have come out of your boyfriend’s mouth, the most unexpected of them did. You had to ask to yourself in all seriousness if you weren’t hallucinating. Would your boyfriend Kim Taehyung really be up for a threesome? Yes, it was in character with him. With a friend of his? Well, he was a person that relied a lot on trust, so it would obviously be someone he trusted much like a friend. But with Jungkook? You never considered it.

You were too slow to reply to your boyfriend, it seemed, because he took his wet hand off your pussy and slapped you lightly on the thigh. It surprised you but sure took you out of all trance.

“I asked you something, doll. Are you too dumb to reply yes or no?” Oh. Oh. He was getting on that mood, one kink at the time. Generally, his domineering and demeaning attitude were enticing enough to get you going. That night was not exception. You gulped, your heart racing like never before. “Would you want Jungkook to join us or not?” His words were stern but he was the love of your life, you could read him better than anyone on earth, and in his eyes you saw the tenderness and love he always had for you. He wasn’t pressuring you, that was for sure. So, you found the confidence to confess your sins, and to agree to sin even more.

“Yes, Taehyung” you whispered because, how right was admitting out loud that you also wanted Jungkook? Though you couldn’t understand why he was looking for an answer so earnestly. His eyes darkened in no time; an enigmatic smile graced his beautiful face. Why did it feel like you just sold your soul to the devil?

He pressed a desperate kiss on your lips, condensing all the excitement and lust that involved the prospect of a threesome. Holy shit, you thought. He wanted a threesome this bad?

“Baby,” he said, kissing one last time “you just made two men happy, and am sure you are about to give us one hell of a night.” You smiled at him, happy that he was that overjoyed – until you let his words sink.

“About to…?” You frowned and, as always, he just smiled.

“Jungkookie!” your boyfriend yelled loudly; loud enough for someone outside the room to hear.

By instinct only, you looked at the door: lo and behold, the Jeon Jungkook opened it slowly, with his big Bambi eyes looking at the floor and his lower lip between his teeth. Your heart dropped to the first floor of the building. What was happening?

“Yah, Jungkook, did you come to fuck my floor or to fuck my girlfriend?” Your eyes were on your boyfriend on an instant, red all over your face. “Look how pretty she looks, all dumb and lost. And she is so wet already that both of us could slip in right now and she would just take it.” His words weren’t that dirty and yet, your body responded to his voice almost on command. Before Taehyung, you weren’t very fond of dirty talk, but the man made it his mission to find the right combination of words, the right timbre of his voice, that would work on you. And he was always successful on whatever he set his mind on.

You saw Jungkook taking a seat on the loveseat Taehyung kept on his room, diagonal to the bed to have the best view. His eyes were anywhere until they arrived on you, a fire burning on you as soon as you saw the arousal written on his face. Never in your life had you felt so much energy contained in a room, thick and suffocating: the heat of three young people that wanted nothing more than to jump at each other’s bones. You bite your lip, because desperation was overpowering your reason. You needed something, everything, whatever they could give you. You looked at your boyfriend, the only one that knew how to proceed, he looked back.

“Doll, I have to warn you. It’s been so long since Jungkookie wetted his dick that he probably will be like a dog in heat once he gets a taste of your pussy, so brace yourself and whenever you want to stop, we stop, all clear?” You nodded. “Good, all of us will use the color system so we’re all on the same page, do you understand me?” The question was directed at Jungkook, who nodded eagerly. Tae was silent for a moment, clearly thinking, and then he doubled the bet. “Jungkookie, get that seat closer to the bed. Closer. Yeah, right by our side.” And now you had your boyfriend’s best friend right by your side, as if he was about to examinate your body being fucked and needed to pay close attention to details. Well, yeah, that’s what was going to happen.

It was it. Everything was ready and set to start. For some reason, desperation evaporated instantly and nervousness took over your body, hands growing cold and heart jumping like crazy. You had never had someone watching you have sex, much less in a threesome. What if you did something awkward? What if you make him uncomfortable in some way? What if you can’t balance out right and end up giving more attention to Jungkook than your boyfriend? You would prefer to take your eyeballs out and eat them than to make your loverboy believe that you don’t want him. However, just as you read him expertly, so he does you, catching your worries as soon as they appear.

“Babe, you don’t need to worry about anything. This is for you more than for any of us. Just let yourself be, we will do the rest, okay?” You nodded, and the deal was sealed. Tae smiled once more before diving for a deep, wet kiss. It was so dizzyingly good, the expertise he had on kissing. His tongue entered your mouth again for a short time, before making the same path it did before, this time towards your breasts.

“Don’t- don’t take her shirt off” Jungkook stuttered gravelly, out of nowhere. Taehyung smirked at him. You frowned slightly.

“Why? Because you want to see me fuck my girlfriend while she’s wearing your shirt? You’re a pervert, man.” Your heart skipped a beat. Shirt? You went to sleep almost naked in Jungkook’s shirt? Your wide eyes questioned your boyfriend. “Baby, I had never worn that shirt in my life, Jungkookie left it here when he stayed over last week.” Stopping you from overthinking any more, he resumed where he left.

Taehyung had a specific routine for your boobs. Just like in that moment, he would suck lightly here and there, alternating between the two mounds. Then, he would lick one of them to the nipple, blowing air on it and giving you goosebumps, just to hear you whimpering. Finally, he would take the nipple inside his mouth for real; savoring it, licking it with his broad, hot tongue, moistening your chest with the saliva he let drip from time to time. And after he makes sure one of your breasts was as soaked as your panties, he goes for the other one and gives it the same treatment. It was messy and dirty and you both loved it.

This time, as your boyfriend finished one side and went to the other, you made the (lucky) mistake of looking at Jungkook. Damn, if he wasn’t a sight. Legs spread, hands on his inner thighs, and oh, his face. His face was enough to induce anybody into an early cum. He looked shaken already, with lips pink and parted enough to catch a glimpse of the saliva gathering there, clearly wanting to be in the place of your boyfriend; and his dark, lustful eyes were fixated solely on your chest, about to jump on you and feast on your body, nose exhaling shakily. It was the second man in your life that looked at you with such unbridled desire, the first one still entertained on your chest. The maknae must have felt you staring at him because his dark gaze shifted and now fixed on yours.

When did this man turned from the indifferent, jealous guy to this hot, hungry-for-you man? You didn’t know if it was your imagination but it was as if his eyes expressed every thing he wanted to do to you. I want to rip your clothes, you felt he thought, I wanna lick and suck and mark with my spit every inch of your body; I wanna open your legs and bury my head there, drink every drop of your sweet juices, make you come only with my tongue inside you, suck and lick your clit until you pass out but keep cumming; I wanna fuck all your holes, make you cry my name, choke you on my cock while I fuck your mouth so hard and my cum leaks from every hole in your body. Taehyung lifted his hear from your boob.

“Fuck dude, you been watching hentai again? That’s some hardcore shit and you recited it like a love poem. Even I got wet.” Oh, so you weren’t imagining it. Jungkook grew red like the ripest of tomatoes but his stare didn’t waver: his words were all for you to hear. You were… flattered, maybe? Definitely turned on, visualizing already all those things he mentioned. And Tae, the omnipresent-omnipotent boyfriend, noticed. “Babe, no. You won’t be an easy slut yet, not when the owner of this cunt is present.” And his mouth went down south, directly to latch on said pussy, slurping noisily at your drenched folds.

The moan you let out was loud and it didn’t stop, because your boyfriend suctioned just as loud, getting the tip of his tongue on your entrance to tease you. Your pussy tickled intensely, and you got a grip of Taehyung’s locks, pulling, which made him moan too. It was all too good. You could already taste the beginning of a climax…

And you don’t know when it happened but you suddenly felt something hot, fat, and hard on your unoccupied hand. You tensed and opened your eyes just to find Jungkook with his big, glorious cock out in the open, guiding your hand up and down on it. Your eyes connected again for a moment, before he licked his lower lip and threw his head back, moaning too. You could recognize when a guy put on a show for you, and it was exactly that what the man did, with his straining neck and tensed abs – that just now realized were visible, thanks to his open shirt. All this stimulation on you and yet it didn’t feel enough, so you couldn’t help but whine at the two men.

Both of them looked at you at the same time, Tae zeroing on your sloppy handjob with surprise. He now looked at his friend and adjusted his bulge in his pants while he said:

“So, the golden maknae wants to compete? With me? The unbeaten slayer of this pussy? Let’s fucking go.” Oh no, Taehyung was in a playful mood – That only could mean you were going to have a long, long night. Not a breath passed and your boyfriend had a finger up your entrance already and his thumb working on your clit. That angle always got him to that particular nerve on your clit that made you see stars, and what more advantage in their little competition that having you writhing and moaning non-stop. Your body was no longer yours. You accepted this fate happily.

Your eyes were closed when you felt a different shape on your left hand – the one that was on Jungkook. You looked at him just in time to see him take your wrist and pulling your hand away from his balls, getting your palm near his face so he could spit on it, and then taking it back to fondle his testicles. Your breath caught in your throat and warmth spread all over your chest. It was the new hottest thing you have seen in your life. Jungkook only smiled proudly at you.

Taehyung, who was also watching the spit show, scoffed and dived between your legs. His tongue accompanied his finger inside you, going out to lap at your clit here and there. One long finger became two, then three and all of them scissored, opening you up more and more until you could take those fingers and his thick tongue easily. One particular lick made you flex all your muscles, your left hand closing tight on Jungkook’s cock. You groaned, he sucked in a breath, your boyfriend slurped noisily again.

“Angel,” Taehyung began, sitting on his hunches. You felt more wetness dripping as you ogled at him in all his pussy-eating glory. Face soaked, hair disheveled, eyes in ectasis. He even licked his lips, collecting the juices you left on him. “do you think you could take more?” You nodded in a heartbeat. “Okay, so go suck Jungkookie’s cock while I get your pussy ready, alright?” This time, he didn’t spare you even one second to think before maneuvering you on your hands and knees, the maknae sitting on your bed and your head hanging over his red tip. Your boyfriend caressed your asscheeks from behind, getting a mewl from you and slapping you hard right away. “Get to work, slut.” Following his words, he licked a long strip from your clit to your wrinkled asshole.

But you still didn’t get to work on Jungkook, so your boyfriend gripped your hair from behind and pushed your head down, making you engulf the meaty length in front of you in one go. You choked, of course, gurgling and trying to swallow with a closed-up throat. The grip on his member made Jungkook moan and put his hand on your head, to keep you in place. You relaxed a little, allowing a smoother slide of him in your mouth, now taking control and hollowing your cheeks. Your tongue swirled around the whole diameter of his beefy cock, which was bigger and heavier than you initially thought, and then suctioned hard. The tip of your tongue teased his slit and the sides of his head, salivating more and more the longer you had him in your mouth. You guessed the maknae liked your blowjob technique because he seemed uncapable of stopping whining and writhing.

“Jungkookie” your boyfriend sing-sang suddenly. The maknae was barely able to maintain his eyes on him. “Tell me how is my baby doing. Do you like it? She sucks cocks like a champ.” It was difficult with his member buried to the hilt in your face but you still made an attempt to look up at the man. His eyes found yours and you felt more precum dribble inside your mouth. “But you seem too shy still. Why don’t you try living up your fantasies and fuck her mouth? I promise, she was born to take cocks.” You could feel Taehyung’s hands spreading open your buttcheeks, and then his tongue flitting over your puckered hole. Your breath caught in you and you had to let go of the dick to moan loud and long.

“You, uh – you focus on me, Y/N” Jungkook stumbled upon his own words, but didn’t waste time in taking your head with his two hands and pushing you down onto him again, which you gladly accepted. He tried snapping his hips up slightly, making you moan and send vibrations on his cock. That’s all he needed to fuck up into your mouth again, making you gag, eyes watering. “Yeah, fuck” he breathed out while speeding up his hips. Cock pushing your jaw wide open, you mewled as much as you could, enjoying the rough treatment and encouraging the man to give you more. “Shit, hyung, her mouth is amazing.”

“I told you, and wait until you taste her pussy” your boyfriend replied, voice low and raspy and touching your pussy in that same manner. With no warning, Taehyung’s cock prods a few times at your entrance before he thrusts in, pushing all air out of you. It was intense, your insides pulsing with the girth and length of your boyfriend’s member, and then the cock in your mouth throbbed too. “Talk to her, JK, she loves it.” He grabbed you by your hair again, yanking you up until you were face to face with his best friend. “Especially if you tell her what a filthy slut she is, and all the bad things you are going to do to her.”

“Y/N,” Jungkook started, looking directing into your soul. “I’m gonna cum in your mouth and you’re gonna drink it and say thank you, ok?” He sounded so serious that chills covered your whole body, and his command was so hot but he gave you no time to dwell on it because he shoved his cock in you.

“Bravo!” Taehyung celebrated with a rough snap of his hips into you. You gobbled the cock as much as he allowed you, which wasn’t much with the speed and harshness of his thrusts into your face. “Aww, doll, we found a good use for you as our cumdump, isn’t that lovely? Jk, make the honors of creampieing her mouth.” And he fucks up into you hard, making you move forward and choke on Jungkook. The stretch burns deliciously and you can’t help but moan, throat tight and vibrating on the cock you were sucking.

Jungkook cums at that, releasing ropes and ropes on your mouth while still fucking into it. The movements difficulted your swallowing, so most of it leaked from the corners of your lips. He whined at the sounds of you gargling. And in the heat of the moment, the maknae said:

“Yeah, fuck, slobber it all up, slut. You love being filled with cum until it spills, don’t you? That’s all what whores like you are for, anyways.” In an instant, your boyfriend, who kept fucking you frantically from behind, yanks you up with a hand around your neck until your back arched against his chest. From that angle, his cock reached new places inside you, making you scream and spill the remnants of Jungkook’s cum you didn’t get to swallow. Tae got close enough to your ear to suck at your lobe. It all was so overwhelming, you had to close your eyes.

“Come on, baby. Are you going to be an ungrateful bitch or are you going to thank JK for cleansing your disgusting mouth?” He took your jaw and moved it so you were facing down.

You opened your eyes to catch a glimpse of Jungkook moving towards you, but your brain couldn’t process anything until you felt his mouth on your clit. With every thrust, Taehyung grinded you over his best friend outstretched tongue, who moaned eagerly. Seeing you forgot what he just said, your boyfriend gave you a particularly harsh thrust, which made your whole pussy smash on the broad expanse of the tongue working on you. You screamed.

“Say thank you, you fucking whore. Are you that stupid that a little fuck breaks you?” You whimpered.

“Thank you, Jungkook” you said shakily, and that devil of a man smiled up devilish at you, before nibbling and sucking at your clit. And you came, squirting like a faucet right on the maknae’s face and neck.

“Holy fuck!” Jungkook exclaimed, lower part of his face drenched and dripping from the chin. His pupils were blown out, looking bigger and more menacing than ever before.

Your body lost all strength, becoming jelly in Taehyung’s arms, who didn’t stop assaulting your pussy. You tried squeezing your walls to bring him closer to climax, but the man had way too much endurance.

Instead of slowing down or getting sloppy, Tae descended on his ass, taking you with him to the bed head and accommodating you on his lap. While his cock was still into you, he moved you around like a rag doll so he could fold you in half, his hands coming under your thighs and lifting them, knees hooked on his forearms easily. He’s got you spread wide open, showing Jungkook how his cock went in and out of your dripping cunt. You wanted to whine and complain about overstimulation, but the reality was that the friction of Tae’s long and thick cock was so delectable that you felt a second release nearing already.

Jungkook’s eyes stared brazenly the place where you and Taehyung were connected, entranced by the easy slide in and out in your moistened pussy. Carefully, he put his hand on your used folds, stroking reverently the flesh all around where his best friend’s member was, and then his thumb went to your clit. You exhaled his name. He, in return, slapped your pussy.

“What a filthy bitch, moaning other man’s name while your boyfriend is fucking you” he reprimanded you, fingers still on your wetness. He shifted forward a little to be aligned with your pussy so he could spit on it, watching his saliva running down and disappearing between your folds and Tae’s cock. You moaned again. This time, it was Taehyung who reprimanded you with a harsh slap on your ass.

“Is playing with your pussy all it takes for you to let anybody use you? Stupid slut, offering your loose cunt to Jungkookie, dirtied and sloppy with your own juices. You’re too filthy, baby, we will have to cleanse you.” Then, your boyfriend unhooked your leg from his arm, and went to hold your jaw, turning you to face him, and dived in as if to kiss you – but before descending on you, he put pressure to make you open your mouth and just then let a dribble of saliva drop into your awaiting tongue. “Don’t swallow” he commanded, before offering your open cavity to Jungkook to do the same as him. The other man spitted with force, and got close enough to suck your lower lip into his mouth while Tae controlled you still. Your pussy throbbed and tightened on your boyfriend.

But they didn’t stop there. As your boyfriend went down on your neck and sucked and lapped sloppily, Jungkook went to your chest, dribbling more and more of his spit on your breasts, before capturing your nipples and nibbling them. You were so lost in the mess they were making of you that you almost miss the sensation of something tapping at the hole that was already filled.

You look down and can perfectly see the way Jungkook’s tip was pushing between your folds and Taehyung’s dick, like waiting for an invitation in. Even in the heat of the moment, you realized that maybe it was too much to fit the two of them inside you, looking at the girth of their cocks, and you panicked.

“It won’t be like that, don’t worry” your boyfriend, who sensed right away your worry, whispered in your ear. You relaxed, trusting him with your life.

Next thing you knew was that he lifted you from his cock, just to take your hand and make you guide Jungkook inside you. Your insides couldn’t stop throbbing; he was a little shorter than Tae but his girth, god damn, it barely could fit inside, even with your pussy as loose as your boyfriend’s own beefy cock made you. It took you a moment but as soon as he started thrusting, you moaned uncontrollably. Now you understood their plan: they took turns fucking into you, thrusting up a couple times before taking their cocks out and letting the other fuck your hole. You were really getting used by them as a mere hole to share, which was incredibly turning on.

All of you were reaching your peaks, movements growing erratic and wild. At some point, Jungkook took his cock out of you and started thrusting into his own hand, precum still falling over your mound. Taehyung was almost there, and so were you, both of you needing one last little thing to tip you over the edge.

“Jungkook.” The richness of your lover’s voice made you tremble. You didn’t realize you had your eyes close, but once you open them, you find Jungkook scooting over, his lips getting closer and closer to yours. Just when you thought he was about to kiss you, he goes past you, and you get to watch the single hottest image you had ever seen: Jungkook went in and kissed Taehyung. And at that same time, Jungkook’s tip nudged its way inside you, besides Tae’s cock.

You came like never before, so hard that all your lights went out.

…

You open your eyes once you hear whispering around you. First, you realize you’re on your bed, underneath the fluffy covers you love. Then, you realize you’re sandwiched between two strong, warm bodies (which makes you feel kinda giddy inside). You focus your gaze on the face in front of you. It’s your boyfriend, smiling as always.

“Hi, love” he says sweetly, leaving a kiss on your forehead. “How are you feeling?”

How were you feeling? Like you came back from heaven after being killer by a sixteen-wheeled truck running over you. Your body ached all over from exerting so much energy trying to keep up with your boyfriend, but it brought you so much pleasure that you still felt the vanishing ripples of your orgasm swirling in your insides.

“I’m okay” you simply responded. From behind you, you felt a warm body molding to yours, his arms hugging your hips lightly and his face nuzzling into your hair.

“Did you like it?” Jungkook sweetly asked in your ear. His voice sent goosebumps.

“It was all for you, love. Jungkookie sure put you in the spot at Hobi’s place, he had to make it better somehow.” You looked at your boyfriend and then at the other man over your shoulder. Before saying anything, you lay on your back, so you could watch and talk to both of them at the same time.

“I liked it, but I don’t know how to feel about it. What if I said no? Would you have just stood in front of our door, listening to us have sex?”

“No,” Jungkook answered instantly. “I was in the hallway; you can’t hear much from there. If Taehyung didn’t call for me after some time, I would just go home.”

“So you don’t hate me anymore?”

“Hate you?” both men exclaimed simultaneously. Was it that surprising? It’s all you felt from Jungkook since always. Taehyung laughed joyously.

“Baby, I think I never told you in what circumstances I started dating you.” You arched an eyebrow to your boyfriend. He smirked. “Jungkookie and I had to play rock, paper, scissors to decide who asked you out first.” They WHAT? “I won and Jungkookie had to eat my shit. But you’re too damn hot for your own good, dear, and I knew he wouldn’t be able to resist you – because I can’t neither.” The explanation should have cleared up any doubts you had but if anything, it birthed more questions. All these times you thought Jungkook hated you were just him concealing his desires poorly?

“I never wanted to make you uncomfortable, Y/N. I tried my best to be distant so you wouldn’t get mistaken and think I wanted to steal you from Tae. I like you but would never try to break you two apart.” You saw pure sincerity in his doe eyes. Though you were incredibly confused, you decided to believe his words, because you knew he was a good guy after all. And he loved his friends more than anything, that was for sure. Unexpectedly, his hand came up to caress the side of your face tenderly, looking deeply into your eyes. “Can I kiss you, Y/N?” You wanted to say no, for your boyfriend’s sake; but he was the one that took your hand in his and squeezed it supportively, murmuring a ‘do it’ under his breath.

You got close to Jungkook, who couldn’t waste even a second more and crashed his soft lips on yours. He kissed you urgently, like a man that had been thirsty for so long and just now had a drop of refreshing water. He savored your lips, your taste, and sucked your lip sensually. Soon enough, his tongue entered your mouth, and fire burned in your lower half. Your body still ached but the open-mouth kisses that your boyfriend left on your neck got you ready for more in no time.

“Now let us make love to you, dear” Taehyung exhaled against your skin, while Jungkook got his hand under your panties and his lips on your collarbone. “Let us show you how much we adore you.”

How could you say no to that?

[monstersflashlight]

how about a male kitsune x fem reader. Maybe they are childhood friends and he loves to tease her a lot and acts really cocky all the time but scares away any potencial rival. Unknown to them both their parents who are good family friends ,have been trying to set them up together partly due to the fact of some very old promise their ansestors made or something but won’t force it and see it as if it happens it happens. But male kitsune has a secret, his true form and accidentally shows the reader this while confessing but she reassures she doesn’t care how he looks (if anything she finds him quite handsome like this) and she likes him too. His secret form I guess could go two ways I’m not sure which sounds better 1: she never knew he was a kitsune, and them being childhood friends was really just her playing around with a baby fox that she thought belonged to his family. Or 2: she knew he was a kitsune all along but he has a 3rd form he never showed her this one looking more like a bipedal humanoid fox a form of which not even his family has thus being self conscious of. Thank you so much your writing is really cool!

A/N: Hi! This request was very fun to write, hope any of you mind that I mixed both, made sense in my head. Also, as a great mind said “daddy is a state of mind”, I imagine this story as them being very close in age, like max three years apart. Enjoy!

The nine tails

Kitsune x fem!reader || daddy kink, arranged marriage, mates,

When you thought back to your childhood, you always had blurry memories of an animal. A fox. A white fox that followed you around and played with you when you went out into the garden. Your parents thought you were talking about a plushie or something, but you knew better, there was an actual fox that approached you as soon as you stepped outside. But when you were about twelve, he disappeared.

It hurt you so bad and so profound that you cried for days. You cried and cried and your parents didn’t know what was wrong. Your neighbor came around, a nice lady that you’ve known all your life, the mother of your crush… She said it was a pain of heart, and also disappeared. It was ominous and weird, and it woke you off a stupor that you didn’t know you were into.

You woke up and kept living. Even when your friend, your crush, left, you kept going.

And kept going.

When past your twenties, your parents announced that you were to marry an unknown person, or not so unknown. When you walk to the altar and see your long forgotten childhood friend… you are lost of words. You are so confused you dissociate through all ceremony. Before you realize you were married and living with a man you thought forgot about you.

You are calling him husband and he’s calling you wife, and your life is boring. You came back to your house one day, a bit earlier than anticipated because you signed a big contract and you want to go out for dinner with your husband, even if you barely talk. But what awaits for you there is not what you expected.

There’s a white fox in your living room. A white fox that turns into a human, a very naked human in the form of your husband. You gape at him, speechless.

You turn around to leave when he stops you. “Wait! Hear me out, I…”

But then it clicks. “You are the fox,” you deadpan.

“What?” He’s as surprised as you.

“The fox from my memories. It’s you.” Everything starts making sense, why they left, what his mother said when you were a kid.

“I- I thought you didn’t remember that,” he whispers, more to himself than to you.

“Of course I do, it broke my heart when you disappeared. I was so sad my parents bought me a puppy.” He doesn’t answer, staring at you like you grew a new head. You look into his sad eyes and can’t hold back anymore: “Why did you leave me?” Your question is filled with sadness and disappointment, the wound that you thought forgotten is once again open and bleeding. You thought you could get over the fox leaving, probably something to do with nature, but knowing it was him… That it was him who abandoned you…

“I’m sorry. I- They told me I had to. I couldn’t keep visiting you because I could throw everything into the wind if my fox got too attracted to you. So I pulled away, but it pained me, it pained me so much I could barely transform for so long after I stopped seeing you. And then we moved away and I… I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” His voice is broken as he explains, his words rushed as if he’s trying to convince you as much as he tries to convince himself.

And you get a new realization at that. “That’s why you came back? That’s why you married me? Not because they signed some papers when we were not even born?” You ask for confirmation.

“Of course not! I love you. Always have. Always will,” he tells you, eyes filled with tears and emotions showing in every twitch of his body. You stare at him, so moved by his words that you just stare. You stare for so long that he starts to squirm and moves to walk away, accepting your silence as a rejection.

But this time is you who stop him: “Then make love to me until I can’t walk anymore. Breed me until I can’t think of anything else. Fuck me until the sad memories disappear and I can only think of you inside of me,” you pronounce the filthy words as if your life depends on it. As if his body and his soul are what you crave more than air.

He chuckles, swallowing back his tears as he tells you: “You can’t say that and look at me directly, or this would end sooner than expected.” You look down at the same time as he does, seeing his dick twitching and growing hard in front of your eyes.

“Does me saying dirty things arouse you, daddy?” His groan is so loud and desperate that you have to bite back your own moan.

You throw your clothes off your body like a soul followed by death and stare at him, naked in all your glory, as his eyes flash in different colors and his ears morph into fox-like ones. And then you see his half form, his tails behind him, all nine of them swinging as he approaches you slowly, making you grin at him until you are chest to chest. He grabs you by the waist, holding you thigh as he lowers his head and kisses you in the most dominating way ever. Your knees give out under you, but he grabs your ass and pushes you up, inviting you to wrap them around his middle.

He gropes your ass as he grinds his dick up to your wet center. You keep whispering “daddy daddy daddy” as he rocks your body against his. He’s as desperate as you are, your kisses consuming, trying to get your love across his lips. Trying to show him all the longing and pain that he caused you, as he tries to kiss it away. It’s intoxicating and deep, so emotional and intense that you are breathless.

When he finally pushes his dick inside your dripping cunt, you shiver with the force of the sensation. He pushes your body against the wall, plastering himself against your front as he leaves your mouth to kiss your neck, leaving marks as he goes.

He fucks you against the wall, desperate, uncoordinated… and perfect. “Yes. Yes. Yes,” you chant over and over, his dick hitting that special place inside of your pussy that makes you see stars.

You start to shake in his arms. “Are you going to come for daddy? Are you going to make a mess out of your pretty pussy for me?” You nod eagerly, biting his neck and making him cry out as the first shoot of cum hit you deep inside, hot as lava.

You groan as your own orgasm rocks your body, convulsing against his arms as his tails caress your legs like the softest touch. It drives you to a new level, head thrown back, mouth open in a silent scream as he fucks you through your aftershocks. He breathes hard against your neck, biting softly with his long fangs.

“You are so good, such a good girl for daddy,” he keeps whispering soft things against your ear as you come down, breathing hard and blushing harder than ever. He kisses your sweaty forehead as he walks you to the bathroom, not letting you go as he runs you a bath.

[justabigassnerd]

Unexpected Bond

Pairing - Tim Bradford x teen!reader

Word count - 7,340

Warnings - inaccurate police stuff, injuries, blood, knives, hospitals, swearing, mentions of being harassed/made uncomfortable

Summary - while on patrol, Lucy and Tim help an injured teen and while tracking down her attacker, Tim finds out he has a protective, paternal side

Sequel - 'A Safe Home'

A/N - hey y'all! I know it's been a hot while since I wrote anything and I'm so truly sorry for that. but in binging The Rookie, I found myself wanting to write something for Tim Bradford and so this came to light and so I'm posting it as a test (a Tim Test if you will) to kinda gauge how y'all feel about me writing for a new fandom (again still not finished the show so please don't spoil). As per y'all please send in requests, feedback, and enjoy!!!

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The sun was shining in Los Angeles as Tim Bradford and Lucy Chen drove around on patrol, eyes ever so often flicking around in search of illegal activity.

“Come on, you’re seriously not going to let me put the AC on? It’s so hot.” Lucy complains, fighting the urge to stick her head out of the window to get some relief from the sweltering heat inside the shop.

“You know the rules, Boot,” Tim says, sparing Lucy a brief side eye before focusing back on the road. Lucy lets out a slight huff, mentally reminding herself of how much longer she has to obey Tim’s rules before she becomes a P2. Before Lucy could open her mouth to reply in a last-ditch effort to convince Tim to put the AC on, a woman runs out of the nearby park, arms waving wildly and calling out towards the police cruiser.

“We need help!” At the woman’s yells, Tim pulls over, both him and Lucy getting out of the shop as soon as the engine has been turned off before hurrying over to the woman.

“What’s the problem?” Tim asks, a neutral and level tone to his voice to not cause any more panic. In response, the woman begins leading Tim and Lucy into the park, going on a tangent about how she’d been on her morning jog when she stumbled across something she thought was suspicious at first. One glance at Tim and Lucy could tell his patience was wearing thin with the woman skirting around the issue.

“Ma’am, what did you find?” Lucy asks, already bracing herself for what she might find.

“I found this teenage girl curled up on the bench. I thought she was a junkie or homeless so I went to try and move her or something but… she’s bleeding.” The woman says, pointing out the teenage girl curled up on the bench, hand clamped on her side.

“Chen, radio for help.” Tim orders, grabbing his gloves and pulling them on as he approaches the bench, kneeling alongside it while he assesses the damage as best he can.

“Hey kid, can you hear me?” Tim tries, looking from the wound to your face, trying to see how responsive you are. He could tell your breathing was laboured and shallow so all he wanted to do now was treat the wound as best he could and keep you conscious. As Tim gently moves your hand away from your injury, you let out a slight moan of pain, attempting to curl further into yourself.

“I know. I’m sorry. I need to try and slow the bleeding.” Tim apologises softly, hand clamping down on your wound, bunching up the material of your shirt to act as a barrier to prevent any further blood loss. When you groaned in pain once more and blindly swatted at his hand, Tim used his teeth to pull the glove off his spare hand, dropping it on the floor and grabbing your flailing hand in his.

“Okay kid, just squeeze my hand when it hurts. Sound good?” Tim says, getting your response, squeezing his hand tightly, whimpering quietly. Since his plan to try and get you to talk to him wasn't working, though he could only blame the blood loss, he needed to do what he could to ensure you stayed conscious.

“Ambulance is on its way, ETA two minutes,” Lucy says, approaching Tim and watching as he tends to your wound.

“Can you make sure no one crowds around? Paramedics will need quick and easy access and it won’t be easy with these guys watching like it’s a damn circus. But if there is anyone who might know what happened, get a statement.” Tim mutters, aware of the forming crowd, phones in hand as they document the event like they were at a concert. With a nod, Lucy steps back and approaches the crowd, letting them know that the situation is being handled and that they need to get back to their own business.

After a couple of minutes, the ambulance pulls up, and the paramedics soon appear alongside Tim.

“She’s been bleeding since we found her and even before that. From the looks of things, it might be some kind of stab wound. She’s been virtually unresponsive besides squeezing my hand and making a few sounds. She’s definitely out of it because of the blood loss so she needs urgent attention.” Tim says, doing his best to explain the situation with the limited knowledge he had.

“Okay, we’ve got it from here.” One of the paramedics says, easing himself down alongside Tim to assess the damage. Tim carefully moved his hand away from the wound to let the paramedic get to work. As Tim moves to gently release your hand he feels you squeeze tighter as the paramedic begins to place a bandage over your wound to prevent further blood loss until you make it to the hospital.

“I’ve got to let go kid. The paramedics need to do their job.” Tim whispers, a softness to his tone that not many get to hear. At his words, your grip loosened enough for Tim to gently extract his hand before he stepped back, allowing the paramedics to get on with their job while he crossed to Lucy.

“Did anyone see anything?” Tim asks, standing in front of Lucy as he folds his arms and glances around.

“Nothing concrete. Most people around only saw her after she collapsed.” Lucy says defeatedly, closing her notebook and tucking her pen away.

“We’ll follow the ambulance to the hospital. Stick around until the kid’s in the clear and see if we can get a statement.” Tim says with a nod, already beginning to turn around and head back in the direction of their shop with Lucy hot on his heels, radioing control to let them know what they’re going to be doing. Once they get in the vehicle, Tim begins the drive to the hospital fighting the urge to speed the entire way.

To Lucy, it felt like they had gotten to the hospital in record time and she was nearly bursting at the seams to make a light joke about it to Tim but she also didn’t feel like being on the end of a death glare or being made to walk outside the shop while Tim drives. The two enter the hospital and after Tim questions a nurse about the teen girl just brought in, they’re given directions to the ward you’d be in and that you are currently being prepped for minor surgery to control any internal bleeding and Lucy didn’t miss the flash of worry that covered Tim’s face at the mere mention of surgery. The two made their way to where they had been directed and once they reached the waiting room, Lucy took a seat while Tim played the pacing game. Lucy could’ve sworn that Tim pestered the nurses almost a hundred times a minute about any updates regarding your surgery.

“Tim, they’ll let us know when we’re able to try and get a statement from her,” Lucy says, glancing up at Tim as he strides past her once more, stopping him in his tracks.

“I know that. I’m just… worried. Seeing a kid hurt is never easy. I just want to find out who did this to her so we can make sure it doesn’t happen again.” Tim says with a sigh, head bowing slightly before glancing over at Lucy who softens a little at her TO’s words. She knew he wasn’t always the hard-ass he presented himself to be in the station, but seeing him so worried about a teenager’s wellbeing was like seeing a whole new side to him. Before Lucy could speak once more, a nurse approached the two, making Lucy get up from her seat.

“Thank you for your patience officers. The surgery has gone smoothly and we’re transferring her to a room now. There will be a bit more of a wait until she comes around before a doctor will assess whether she’s in a good enough condition to be questioned. You’re free to continue your patrol if you wish and we can contact you when she’s ready.” The nurse says, addressing both Lucy and Tim who glance at each other after the nurse has finished talking.

“I think we’ll stick around, thanks,” Tim says with a polite yet curt nod towards the nurse, watching as she walks off before turning to face Lucy.

“What if we’re needed? We can be helping out on the streets and just wait for a call from the hospital before coming back to get a statement.” Lucy asks, looking up at Tim with a shocked and confused expression.

“Who’s in charge here, Boot? If they need us, they’ll radio us. For now, I’d rather wait here, get the kid's statement and stop this guy before another kid gets hurt.” Tim says firmly, resuming his pacing as Lucy sinks back into the uncomfortable waiting room chair, pulling out her phone and texting Jackson in the hope he’ll be able to respond.

After an hour and a half of Tim pacing back and forth and Lucy flipping between texting Jackson and scrolling through various social media, a nurse approaches the two again, stopping Tim in his tracks while Lucy shoves her phone in her pocket and stands up.

“She’s come around and the doctors have cleared her for you to take a statement. However, I will warn you she hasn’t been the most talkative so I don’t know how easy it’ll be to get anything out of her.” The nurse says, leading Tim and Lucy towards the room you have been moved to for recovery.

“Thank you. We’ve got it from here.” Tim says, reaching for the door handle to enter the room.

“Oh, one last thing. We haven’t managed to get a name out of her yet so if you manage to do that please let us know so we can contact whoever necessary.” The nurse quickly adds, making both Tim and Lucy nod before Tim pulls the door open and enters the room with Lucy close behind.

“Hey, kid. I’m Officer Tim Bradford and this is Officer Lucy Chen. We were the first responders on sight when you were found in the park.” Tim introduced both himself and Lucy, noting how shy and withdrawn you looked and made sure to take a gentler approach.

“I’m sorry, I don’t remember you guys…” You mumble sheepishly, fiddling with your fingers as your gaze flicks down to your hands to avoid eye contact. Truthfully, you had recognised Tim’s voice the second he started speaking. You don’t think you could ever forget a voice that made you feel so safe in the most terrifying moment of your life.

“Don’t apologise. You suffered a lot of blood loss so it’s understandable that you don’t remember everything. We’ve shared our names, can we get yours?” Tim asks, watching you quietly as you nod.

“It’s y/n. y/n l/n.” You say quietly, briefly glancing up at the two officers, noticing how Lucy noted down your name.

“Have you got any family we can contact?” Lucy asks, looking from her notebook to you as you shake your head.

“No family.” You admit, feeling heat creeping into your cheek as your gaze dropped once more and both Tim and Lucy exchanged a look at your admission.

“So, are you in a children’s home then?” Tim asks, fighting the urge not to frown when you nod your head, confirming his suspicions.

“If you could even call it that.” You mutter, causing Lucy to smoothly change the subject.

“Is there anything you can tell us about who stabbed you?” She asks, both officers noticing how your hand came to rest atop where your injury was.

“I didn’t see a face, he had a hood covering his face. It was the early hours of the morning and all I remember was a guy grabbing me and then the next thing I knew I was stabbed.” You explain, feeling useless that you couldn’t provide more to help.

“And did the stabbing happen in the park? Where we found you?” Tim enquires further, wanting to put together as many details as possible.

“No, I don’t think so. I haven’t been sleeping so well recently so I sneak out and go on walks in the morning to energise myself enough to get through the day. I don’t have a specific route on these walks so maybe… I don’t know.” You say, sighing lightly as you rack your brain for any memory of what happened to you.

“Maybe what?” Tim prods gently, wanting to get as much information as possible.

“The home I’m in really isn’t the best. Most of the kids there end up as drug dealers or in gangs. Maybe I walked onto some gang territory without realising it or maybe I stumbled across something I shouldn’t have I don’t know.” You mumble, trying to make sense of all the information in your head.

“Are you part of any gangs?” Lucy asks, not wanting to sound accusatory but needing an answer.

“No. Not at all. I’m probably the only teenager there who doesn’t get involved in any of that stuff.” You quickly clarify, shaking your head to exaggerate your point.

“But… I’m not the most popular kid in the home either. I wouldn’t be surprised if most of the kids tell their gang members it’s okay to mess with me.” You continue with a shrug, making Tim’s heart hurt at how small and defeated you look.

“Is there anything else you can remember from the stabbing? Anything that could help us identify your attacker?” Tim asks, folding his arms across his chest as he speaks.

“The guy said something, I can’t remember what. But he did have a crazy deep voice. I didn’t know someone could have a voice that deep. I’d probably be able to recognise his voice if I heard it again.” You recall, feeling like you’re scraping the barrel of your knowledge of what happened. At your words, Tim unfolds his arms, digging into his pocket for his card and crossing the room to hold the card out towards you.

“Thank you for your help. If you remember anything else feel free to give us a call.” Tim says with a soft smile, watching as you carefully extract the card from his hand, flipping it over a couple of times and studying the words on it as you nod lightly. As Tim and Lucy move to leave your hospital room you speak up.

“Officers. Thank you… for saving me.” You say, nervousness gripping your stomach as you talk. You knew you had nothing to feel nervous about, after all, they had saved your life.

“No need to thank us, kid. Just focus on getting better.” Tim says with a nod while Lucy bids you a soft goodbye before they both exit your hospital room.

“Okay, Chen we’re going to find out what home y/n is in and then we should scope out the area. Find out what we can about the kids that are in gangs.” Tim says as the two make their way through the hospital.

“And hopefully find someone with a deep enough voice that y/n recognises,” Lucy adds as they both get into the shop.

“I’m hoping we can track the guy down ourselves. I’d rather not have to drag the kid into this if I can help it.” Tim says, starting the engine and pulling out of the parking spot while Lucy busies herself with trying to find out what children's home you’re in. At Tim’s protective words, Lucy raises an eyebrow and smirks lightly.

“So all that talk about me adopting a puppy and you’ve gotten yourself one of your own.” She muses jokingly, watching as Tim glances at her out of the corner of his eyes.

“I did not adopt a puppy. This is a kid who was hurt and there’s a chance she could get hurt again if we don’t do something about it soon. I want to catch the guy who did this to her and get her someplace safe if this home is as bad as she’s making it out to be. You, however, felt bad for someone who stole your car.” Tim defends, trying not to let on how worried he truly is about you. Lucy, unconvinced by his words, nods and focuses her attention back to the computer. 

“We’ve got a location of the home. Let’s head over there.” Lucy reports, giving Tim the address and beginning to do further background research as Tim begins driving in the direction of the children’s home. The drive didn’t take long from the park where they had found you and as they neared, both Tim and Lucy began to understand why you had said it wasn’t a good home.

The children’s home was located in a run-down area, just one look around the neighbourhood and anyone could tell that crime thrives in it. Just the mere presence of Tim and Lucy was already garnering them weird looks as they parked outside of the children’s home and exited their shop, crossing to the front door and knocking on it before taking a step back to wait for someone to open the door.

“What do you want?” The door is thrown open and Tim comes face to face with a short man who quickly notices Tim and Lucy’s uniforms and straightens up.

“Sorry. What can I do for you officers?” He amends his words, painting on a large smile that anyone could tell was fake.

“I’m Officer Bradford and this is Officer Chen. May we come in?” Tim asks, already beginning to make his way towards the door as the man holds it open to allow them both in.

“Let’s talk in my office. I’m Stan.” He introduces himself and leads the two towards his office, a small murky room piled high with paperwork.

“A teenager who is in your care, y/n l/n, was found stabbed in the park not too far from here. Do you have any idea who might’ve done this to her?” Lucy begins as Stan takes his seat behind his desk.

“y/n was stabbed? That’s a real shame.” Stan says, making Tim cock an eyebrow at his faux sincerity.

“She’s in the hospital recovering from her injuries. Again, do you know of anyone who might like to hurt her? She mentioned that a lot of the kids around here wind up involved with gangs. Do any of them have reason to hurt her?” Tim asks, watching as Stan shrugs lightly.

“If I’m honest, the kid was an easy target. She’s been here since she was practically a baby so being the longest-running kid in the home is bound to put a little bit of a target on your back.” Stan says nonchalantly, leaning back in his chair while Lucy notices Tim clench his jaw.

“So you’re telling us you allowed those kids to pick on her just because she was an ‘easy target’ in your eyes?” Lucy asks, hoping that somehow she was wrong in how she interpreted Stan’s words.

“I know who those kids hang out with. I’m not looking to put myself in the line of fire for her.” At Stan’s words, Tim was unable to hold himself back from an outburst.

“You willingly let kids bully y/n because you were scared of the company they keep? Maybe they wouldn’t go out running around in gangs if you looked after the kids that are supposed to be in your care.” Tim says lowly, edging closer to the desk and bracing his hands on it, leaning closer to Stan to get his point across.

“Tim, let’s not do this. Stan, if you think of anything that might help us find y/n’s attacker, give us a call.” Lucy says, gently guiding Tim away from the desk before placing a card down on the desk and leading Tim out of the building.

“y/n is not going back there. I won’t let her.” Tim says the moment they leave the home, practically seething with rage as he makes his way back to the shop.

“I know this home clearly has some serious issues but you won’t be able to just up and move her as easily as you might think,” Lucy says, getting into the vehicle as Tim starts the engine.

“I’ll find a way. I’ll find the ass that hurt her. Find a way to prove Stan doesn’t give a shit about the kids in his care and then I’ll make sure y/n has someplace safe to go to once she’s out of hospital.” Tim says as if he held all the answers in his newly formed plan.

“Okay, you’re getting worked up about this so let’s take lunch and talk this all through. We’ll try and come up with a game plan to find the guy who hurt y/n and after that, we’ll tackle the other problem.” Lucy says calmly, doing what she can to make sure Tim relaxes, knowing he couldn’t go around the neighbourhood with this attitude. At her words, Tim lets out a long sigh before nodding and beginning to drive in the direction of someplace to get food.

After finding a place to have some lunch, Lucy and Tim sit down opposite each other and begin to talk through the minimal facts they have about the case so far.

“She was stabbed in the morning, I’d assume maybe an hour or so before we found her.” Lucy starts, consulting her notebook.

“But she wasn’t stabbed at the park so we can assume she walked from where she was stabbed to the park. Maybe she was looking for help.” Tim says, lifting his drink to take a sip.

“We could radio the unit that arrived on scene after we left and see if there are any blood trails that might help us find where the stabbing happened. Maybe the attacker tried to ditch the weapon nearby.” Lucy muses, leaning back against her chair as she thinks.

“If it’s a gang member I doubt they’d be stupid enough to leave the weapon nearby. But then again there’s always the chance so it might be worth a try.” Tim admits, finishing his food and downing his drink while Lucy does the same. As they dispose of their trash, Tim’s phone rings, making him dig it out of his pocket to answer it while Lucy waits.

“Hello?” He answers.

“Officer Bradford, is that you?” Your quiet voice comes through the other end of the phone, timid as if you were afraid of bothering him.

“y/n, is everything okay?” Tim asks, an instant bout of worry gripping him.

“I’m sorry if I called at a bad time I just… I remembered something about the attack and I don’t know if it’ll help.” You say, and Tim can hear the worry and fear in your voice of potentially being an inconvenience to him.

“No, you’re fine. I’ll swing by the hospital and you can tell me about what it is you remember. Does that sound good?” Tim says gently, doing his best to reassure you over the phone.

“Okay.” You whisper before hanging up the phone and leaving Tim to turn to Lucy.

“Was that y/n?” Lucy asks, studying Tim’s reaction carefully.

“Yeah. She said she remembered some stuff about the attack.” Tim says, shoving his phone in his pocket and making his way towards the shop while Lucy follows behind.

“Do you think this information will help us find her attacker?” Lucy asks as she gets in the passenger seat.

“I don’t know. I didn’t want to pressure her. But we’ll do what we can with it.” Tim says, starting the engine and beginning the drive, once again, to the hospital.

When they arrived at the hospital, they headed straight to the room you were in and knocked on the door before letting themselves in upon receiving your permission.

“You came.” You said, the smallest, shy smile on your face when you realised that they had come when you asked and both officers had noticed the notebook and pencil you had in hand.

“Of course,” Tim says with a nod and a gentle smile.

“You like drawing?” Lucy asks gently, moving to sit on one of the nearby chairs, easing herself down gently as you shake your head lightly.

“Not really. I just remembered one detail about the guy who attacked me and I figured it would be best if I try to draw it.” You admit, attempting to tidy up the rough sketch on the paper.

“What was the detail?” Tim then asks, easing down into the other chair as they both watch you quietly.

“The guy who attacked me had a scar that looked like this on his hand.” You say, flipping the paper around and showing it to Tim and Lucy.

“That looks like…” Lucy begins.

“A brand.” Tim finishes, glancing from the paper to you as you nod.

“There’s a kid in the home I’m in, Kevin, he’s always acted really weird around me and even asked me out a few times despite knowing how uncomfortable he makes me. I know he’s part of this gang and all the members are branded somewhere on their bodies. I know Kevin definitely wasn’t the guy who stabbed me but I think he asked one of the other members of his gang to hurt me.” You explain as Lucy takes the sketch from you, studying it closely.

“This Kevin, has he ever threatened to hurt you to your face?” Tim asks, already fighting back the seething rage beginning to build up.

“Never outright. But the last time I rejected him he did tell me that I’d regret it.” You say, remembering that moment from a couple of nights ago.

“And did he ever… do anything else?” Tim enquires further, hoping for a specific answer while preparing himself for the worst.

“No. I don’t know if he ever would’ve tried anything, but growing up in that home meant I knew where all the best places to lay low were when he did get extra clingy. And I also try to spend as much time out of the home and away from that neighbourhood as possible.” You explain, fiddling with the corner of the cover laid across you.

“So you believe he told a member of that gang to hurt you because you wouldn’t date him?” Lucy clarifies, feeling her heart break when you nod.

“Okay, we’re going to try to find that kid and talk to him about this gang of his,” Tim states, moving to stand up and exit the room with Lucy following behind.

“Wait!” Your desperate cry stops Tim in his tracks, making him turn to face you.

“What’s wrong?” Tim asks, worried as to why you had reacted like that.

“Don’t tell Kevin or anyone I told you about this. If they find out I squealed… I don’t know what they’ll do to me.” You say, vaguely hearing the increased beeping coming from the heart monitor in your panicked state.

“Hey, y/n, take some deep breaths for me, okay?” Tim quickly strides across the room to you, placing his hands on your shoulders and getting you to look up at him. He takes a few exaggerated deep breaths which you mimic shakily, each breath coming smoother than the last until you’ve regained control of your breathing and your heartbeat has begun to settle into a steady rhythm once more.

“That’s it, kid, just like that.” Tim then praises gently as he feels the tension leaving your shoulders, giving them a light squeeze before releasing his grip. As Tim lets go, you lift your hand to wipe at your suddenly watery eyes, trying not to flinch at the slight pain from the movement.

“We won’t tell anyone there about what you told us. I promise.” Lucy says, knowing that the number one rule of being a police officer was that they couldn’t promise anything but seeing how Tim nodded lightly in agreement confirmed that this was one promise that they could make.

“We’ll go and try and find information. But we won’t mention you at all. They won’t know you told us. Promise.” Tim assures you, stepping back and joining Lucy by the door.

“Hang tight, y/n. We’ll stop that guy.” Lucy says with a soft smile, folding up the sketch she still had in hand and putting it in her pocket with your permission before both she and Tim exit your hospital room, making their way back to their shop to go in search of further answers. They make their way back to the neighbourhood of the children’s home and instead of heading to the children’s home, they do a walk around the area, both of them noticing how people watch them carefully, wary of what they might do.

“Someone around here has to be a part of that gang y/n was talking about, right?” Lucy asks quietly, walking alongside Tim as they observe their surroundings.

“I’d put money on it. But we can’t exactly go up to them and ask. We have to be subtle.” Tim says, noticing how they were beginning to approach two teenage boys who were leaning against a wall, talking amongst themselves.

“Don’t usually get cops around here.” One of the teenagers says, loud enough for Tim and Lucy to hear, making them exchange a quick look before they turn to face the teens.

“We’re patrolling the area. Got a problem?” Tim accuses, folding his arms across his chest as he stares down at the two teenagers.

“Patrolling for what?” The other asks, both of them clearly unafraid of Tim and Lucy’s presence.

“There’s been some incidents around here and we just wanted to make sure everything was okay.” Lucy lies easily, hands resting on her belt as her eyes flick between the two boys.

“Are you accusing us of what happened with that bitch this morning?” One of the teens suddenly becomes accusatory, making Lucy raise her eyebrows in slight shock at the tone.

“No one’s accusing you of anything. In fact, neither of us mentioned an incident this morning. Is there anything you can tell us about it?” Tim then asks cooly, noticing how the teens twitch a little in their realisation about being caught out.

“It wasn’t us.” One of them says, instantly on the defensive, his voice harsh.

“We’re not saying it is you. We’re simply asking if you know anything.” Lucy says, holding a hand out to try and calm the tension she could sense building.

“We don’t know anything.” The other teen says, both of them then turning on their heels and stalking off somewhere else.

“As suspicious as that was. They didn’t do it.” Tim states, letting out a soft sigh and watching them walk away.

“Neither of them had a deep voice. At least not one matching y/n’s description. But did you see-”

“One of them had the brand on his arm. We’re definitely in the right place.” Tim finishes, eyes flicking around the streets in search of other people to question.

“Can I help you, officers? I’m Toby.” A deep voice comes from behind Tim and Lucy, making them exchange a look before they turn to face the owner of the voice. They quickly came face to face with someone who looked to be in his early twenties, he was not much shorter than Tim and they could only assume he did a lot of heavy lifting with how he was built.

“There was a stabbing this morning. A girl about fifteen years old was the victim. Do you know anything about it?” Tim asks smoothly, not showing any signs of suspicion as he watches Toby’s reaction.

“A stabbing? I haven’t heard anything about it.” He says, shrugging lightly before folding his arms across his chest, displaying the brand that you had described on his hand.

“Nothing at all?” Lucy prompts, glancing from Toby to Tim who nods the slightest amount.

“Nothing.” Toby confirms.

“That’s funny. We did some investigating and apparently her attacker was part of the same gang with those exact brands. According to some people we spoke to, the attacker had a deep voice and had a branding scar on his hand. Would you like to revise your answer?” Lucy says, staring down Toby whose calm and collected look shifts and soon a knife is being brandished towards the two of them, making Tim grab Lucy’s arm and pull her behind him.

“She should’ve thought twice before she turned down Kevin. The bitch just got what she deserved.” He says angrily, knife pointed directly at Tim to keep them at a distance.

“I think she’s well within her rights to turn someone down if she doesn’t like them,” Tim says calmly, not wanting to aggravate him any more.

“Kevin is my bro and I’ll look out for him like he’s my own family. If that means getting rid of some bitch who won’t date him then that’s what I’ll do.” Toby says, making Tim clench his jaw.

“Alright. I’ve heard enough.” Tim states, fed up and angered by what he’s been hearing. Without warning, Tim lunged forward, grabbing Toby’a wrist, and twisting it until the knife clattered to the floor before pinning his arm behind his back. Tim then pulls his handcuffs out of his belt and handcuffs his hands together while Lucy radios control to let them know of the situation.

“Grab the knife,” Tim instructs Lucy, already pushing Toby towards the shop while Lucy does what she’s asked. The closer they get to the shop, the more Tim becomes aware of the pairs of eyes watching them. He gets Toby into the shop then both Tim and Lucy get into the front seats.

“Are we going to let y/n know we got the guy?” Lucy asks, briefly glancing back at Toby before looking at Tim who nods lightly.

“Once we’ve processed this asshole I’m going to head back over to the hospital and let her know we’ve caught the guy,” Tim says, starting the engine and beginning the drive over to the station.

“That’s good. I think it’ll be good for her to know.” Lucy agrees, nodding slightly and focusing her attention on the passing scenery.

“You’re wasting an awful lot of time focusing on her. What makes her so important?” Toby grumbles from the backseat.

“No one asked for your input. You and that other kid are the reason she’s in this mess in the first place.” Tim says angrily, eyes flicking up to the rearview mirror to glare at him. The rest of the journey back to the station was relatively quiet, with Toby attempting to speak up every so often, only to be silenced by Tim’s silent glare.

When they made it to the station, Tim and Lucy processed Toby as quickly as possible, practically shoving him into one of the cells the moment they were able to and finish up the paperwork in record time.

“Are you coming with me or not, Boot?” Tim asks, already making his way back towards the shop after finishing processing.

“I’m coming,” Lucy says, rushing to Tim’s side, both of them get back in their shop and make their way back to the hospital. Upon arrival, the hospital seemed much quieter, meaning Tim and Lucy didn’t have to swerve through seas of people to make their way to your room. When they reach your room, they knock once more and enter with permission, both of them smiling at you as they walk in.

“We’ve got some good news,” Lucy says with a smile, noticing how your eyes lit up the slightest bit at her words.

“We apprehended the person who hurt you. He’s not going to get near you again.” Tim says, his smile matching Lucy’s as you smile at their words.

“Thank you.” You whisper, fighting back the threat of teary eyes as the relief sets in.

“We’re just doing our jobs. No need to thank us.” Lucy says softly, approaching the bed and taking your hand in hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“I’m going to open an investigation into the home. See if I can get it closed or something. Or at the very least get you moved somewhere else so you don’t have to deal with that Kevin anymore.” Tim adds, watching as you look from Lucy to him.

“You don’t need to do that.” You start.

“I do. Nothing about that place is safe for you. Even when we do get the okay to arrest Kevin, that home isn’t a stable or safe environment for you. So I want to do what I can to help you out.” Tim says, smoothly cutting you off and stepping closer to your bedside, his gaze soft as he looks down at you.

“I don’t want you guys potentially getting hurt on my behalf.” You mumble, wiping at your eyes with your free hand to prevent any tears from falling.

“Let us worry about ourselves. All you have to do is worry about getting better. We’ll handle everything else.” Tim says reassuringly, his gentle smile calming and encouraging as you take some deep breaths to calm down.

“I owe you both so much.” You say gratefully after you’ve calmed down, smiling shyly at your saviours.

“You don’t owe us anything. We were just doing our jobs.” Lucy says softly, her smile still as gentle as ever. The three of you continued to converse for a few more minutes, both Tim and Lucy noticing how you became more confident in talking to them, but Lucy had noticed how you were more comfortable with Tim. And she hadn’t missed how Tim had practically switched into a whole new man around you. He was much softer and fatherly towards you. After a few minutes, Tim notices the time on his watch and sighs lightly.

“We should head out,” Tim says regrettably, glancing over at Lucy who nods softly.

“Look after yourself y/n,” Lucy says as they cross to the door.

“If I don’t die of boredom first. There’s nothing to do here.” You say with a light chuckle, lying back in the bed and staring up at the ceiling.

“I’m sorry, kid. I’m sure if you ask a nurse they could find you something to do.” Tim says apologetically, offering the best solution he could think of at the moment before both he and Lucy bid you goodbye and head out to finish the rest of their shifts.

The rest of their shift went smoothly, the only crimes they encountered being things like reckless driving and noise complaints. By the time they had made it back to the station for the end of their shift, Tim wanted to input his request for an investigation into the children’s home you had spent your life in. He wasn’t usually picky about which detectives might take his investigation requests but he wanted to make sure Angela picked up this case. He knew she’d keep him in the loop and let him help out if he wanted. After talking to Angela and getting her on board with looking into the home, Tim thanked her and then headed out to his truck.

On his way back to his house, Tim drove past a store, pulled into the car park and found someplace to park after remembering he needed to pick up a few things. He entered the store, grabbing the things he needed before stumbling across a book aisle in the store. He stood in front of the aisle for a few moments before letting out a soft sigh, digging into his pocket for his phone and stepping into the aisle.

Unbeknownst to Tim, Lucy had also entered the store five minutes after he did, not even aware that Tim was there. She browsed the aisles, searching for what she and Jackson needed until she also found herself by the book aisle. She looked up the aisle and saw Tim standing in front of a selection of books. One hand holding a book, the other holding his phone as he studied the screen intently.

“Looking for book recommendations?” Lucy asks, chuckling to herself when Tim jumps, head whipping around and visibly relaxing upon realising it is Lucy talking to him.

“I was just- y/n mentioned she was bored so I thought I’d grab her a couple of books to give her tomorrow so she can pass the time until she’s out of the hospital,” Tim says, showing Lucy his phone and how he’d been looking up popular books for your age group to pick out the best ones for you.

“Here, let me help.” Lucy offers, taking the book from Tim’s hand, inspecting it quietly before nodding and putting it in Tim’s basket before plucking another book off the shelf, and handing it to Tim to judge after reading the blurb herself.

“You know… you could foster y/n if you wanted.” Lucy says softly after Tim puts the book back, and grabs another to look at.

“What?” Tim asks, no anger behind his voice, but confusion.

“You’re really good with her. It’s clear you care about her and she’s comfortable with you. Fostering her would keep her out of the home while the investigation is ongoing. Plus it would keep her safe and away from that neighbourhood.” Lucy explains herself, watching as Tim falls silent, putting the book he had in his hand in his basket.

“I don’t know. My career isn’t the safest thing in the world and I don’t want someone to potentially use her to get to me.” Tim explains with a sigh.

“I get that. It’s your choice. But she definitely feels safer with you than anyone else.” Lucy says softly, offering Tim one last book before turning on her heels to make her way through the rest of the store, leaving Tim alone.

When Tim gets home, he’s greeted by Kojo who rushes over to Tim happily, demanding to get attention which Tim is more than happy to provide. Once Kojo trots off, happy to entertain himself while Tim unpacks the things he bought. As he unpacks, he sets aside the two books he and Lucy had picked out for you, as well as a few packets of candy and chocolates. Tim was sure he was going overboard but he wanted to make sure that what was left of your hospital stay was pleasant.

After organising everything, Tim makes himself dinner, making sure to feed Kojo while he waits for his food to cook. Once his food is ready, Tim sits himself down to eat and watch the football game he’d been waiting to watch all day. However, as he watched the game, he found himself distracted by the option Lucy had brought up to him at the store. He knew she was right, he couldn’t deny how much he had come to care for you in a short period of time. But he also didn’t want to risk bringing more harm to you through his job. Tim’s focus on the football game began to dwindle as he debated the idea of fostering you back and forth in his head. As if he could sense Tim’s dilemma, Kojo approached Tim, hopping up onto the sofa and resting his head on Tim’s leg, letting out a soft whine while Tim pets his head. Eventually, Tim concluded his internal debate as he was putting his dirty dishes in the dishwasher. Upon finally concluding, Tim grabbed his laptop and returned to the sofa, settling down alongside Kojo once more, opening it and typing in one simple question.

‘How to foster a child?’

[eternalsa2z]

Dear Diary

DAY 1

I don't know why I'm doing this. I found this hot pink journal in my room. The logo is a little silly but it'd be a shame to waste all the paper. So I guess I'll write down what I'm thinking.

DAY 3

Honestly this has been nicer than I expected. It feels good to get your thoughts down on paper. Then you don't have to think so hard about your troubles.

DAY 7

I noticed how negative I've been when journaling. So I decided to be more positive and try some new things. Dress nicer. Take care of my appearance more.

DAY 14

I went to the salon today. It was a strange impulse after writing down things I wanted to improve. Just a little trim...maybe some highlights. Something simple.

DAY 15

I went full blonde today. Light blonde. I should feel self-conscious but it feels...sooooo good!

DAY 28

Another salon day! Got a touch up with a cute pigtail hairstyle...and a bit more. The girls convince me try some filler and more than a 'lil makeup. It felt like a lot but they were sooooo excited. So I couldn't help being excited too!

DAY 40

Like, people are looking at me funny. Is it my clothing? They, like, don't fit as much any more. My boobies...I mean breasts...seem bigger. Butt seems rounder. Oh well! Time for a shopping spreeeeee!

DAY 47

Um, like, sorry for not writing more. I've been, like, sooooo forgetful of late. I do my makeup, squeeze on a cute outfit, then I totes forget anything else! Is that bad? 'Course not! It feels too good to be, like, empty headed

DAY 55

Cherry is having truble trouble thinking. Cherry can't, like, 'member lyfe life before writing in diary. Was Cherry, always blonde, busty, and unsofisycated unintellygant dumb? It's like Cherry's thot thoughts all gone once she writes. But at least, like, she's hawt! :)

DAY 69

Cherry iz, like, luving lyfe! Peepole call me, lyke, a dumbo bimbo...but Cherry soooo doesn't care! Cherry iz happy. Cherry iz cute. Cherry iz, like, no thinky any more since she start wryting in diary.