#and specifically praised my ‘attention to detail’

[bloomburnburial]

finishing my math final today felt like it did the emotional equivalent of the curaga casting animation sequence for me

[sundrop-writes]

Meddle About

Sub!Spencer Reid x Dom!Fem!Reader

‘Cause it's not just a figure of speech - you got me down on my knees.

It's gettin' harder to b r e a t h e .

Summary:

You hate it when Morgan teases Reid. So when Morgan says that you are Reid's 'Mommy' - you verbally fire back without even thinking about it.

Reid vastly overthinks it.

So much so that he ends up calling you Mommy by mistake. And you definitely don't hate the sound of that word coming off his lips.

Sub!Spencer Reid x Dom!Fem!Reader. Co-Workers to Lovers. Smut. Set during Season One.

Word Count: 6,300

Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link

Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: general smut fic - porn with some plot; dom/sub dynamics (but this isn't a pre-discussed dom/sub relationship, the characters just fall into these roles naturally), Spencer is submissive and the reader is dominant; the main theme is Mommy kink - Spencer discovers that he has a Mommy kink after a joke that Morgan makes, referring to the reader character as Spencer's Mommy; Spencer calls the reader 'Mommy' and the reader also refers to herself with that title; the reader uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina (and breasts); it could be interpreted that the reader has larger breasts/is plus sized (but I think anyone of any size could enjoy this fic); the reader is part of the BAU; this is meant to take place during season one (baby Spence my beloved) but there are no other major canon events mentioned and the case being discussed is one that I have made up; some very background typical elements of Criminal Minds - murder, killing, systemic vicimization of women/violence from men towards women (passing mention of bodies being consumed by wild animals); the reader and Spencer fuck while on a case (but they aren't endangering anyone's lives from lack of their attention, so it's fine); mentions of potential injuries from a car accident (theoretical - doesn't actually happen during the fic); very slight threads of Morgan x Reader (mentions of Morgan being attracted to the reader - it could be one-sided); very passing mention of Reid having breeding kink (doesn't take place during the fic, just one of his thoughts); for the actual smut section: this could be interpreted as virgin!Spencer but that's not explicitly stated here (at most, this is just inexperienced!Spencer) (the reader is definitely way more sexually experienced than him); praise kink (we all known Spencer is so eager to be praised); mentions of breastfeeding - Morgan makes a joke about the reader breastfeeding Reid, which later turns into faux breastfeeding kink (the reader doesn't actually lactate, but she lets Spencer suck on her tits and calls it breastfeeding); the reader calls Spencer: 'baby', 'good boy',; descriptions of subspace - but it's not specifically called 'subspace' in the text; thigh humping - Spencer humps the reader's thigh; cumming in pants (Spencer); multiple orgasms/overstimulation (Spencer receiving); handjob - the reader jacks Spencer off while he is sensitive after his first orgasm; using lube as cum; dumbification kink - the reader calls Spencer 'dumb baby' and generally enjoys seeing his intellect drop the more turned on he becomes (Spencer also likes being called this); technically the reader doesn't get to cum, but she gets turned on from treating Spencer like the good boy that he is (and this is more about him). I think that's everything.

A/N: This was directly inspired by the scene from Reid's birthday party, where Morgan says 'Mommy to the rescue!' (talking about JJ) and then Spencer says '...Mommy?' and it seems like he is discovering his Mommy kink in real time. Especially because he is then trapped between Elle and JJ and he makes direct eye contact with their boobs, and he just has such a look of scared kink realization in his eyes. I considered copying that moment exactly and just replacing JJ with the reader character, but this seemed like more fun lmao. I had so much fun writing this and I think this is one of my best fics in a while. I hope you guys enjoy it!!

...

Generally, you hated being stuck with grunt work. 

You knew that it was all part of the job - an important part of it. Paperwork, side interviews, background checks. Sifting through someone’s apartment looking for aspects of what kind of person they were based on their everyday life. 

But you thrived more on being right in the middle of things. You preferred interacting with suspects, chasing people down, harsh confrontation. 

Gideon said that you were overly controlling, impatient, brutally honest - that you had an ‘abrasive personality’ that put most men off. But that was why he often brought you into interrogations with male suspects. Many of the people you caught - men with superiority complexes who targeted the weak to make themselves feel powerful - they hated that you weren’t intimidated by them. That aspect of abrasion between you and the suspects often brought out a lot of information - things they spewed out trying to intimidate you. 

But you weren’t needed on that front today. 

No - instead, you were doing grunt work. The kind of work that made you impatient and generally aggravated. 

The only upside was that you got to do it with Spencer. 

He was one of the only men that voluntarily worked so closely with you so often, because he wasn’t intimidated by you. He took orders from you very well and naturally fell under your authority, bringing a natural chemistry to your partnership when you worked with him. Plus - his seemingly endless stream of ‘fun facts’ was like listening to the radio, which did help to soothe your boredom during these kinds of mindless tasks. 

You were on a case in Texas. Five women raped and tortured before having their bodies hung from a tree and consumed by cotoyes that the UnSub knew lived in the area. Since police had closed in on him, he had gone on the run. He had killed three more women since fleeing, while leaving no clues as to what his ultimate endgame would be or where he would be going next. 

Hotch sent you and Reid to find that out while the rest of the team worked victimology and profiled the scenes of the most recent murders, following the trail he was leaving. 

After spending hours sifting through the suspect’s house, looking for any small clue about where he might be going - you came up empty. When you touched base with Hotch, he told you that you and Reid would be going to visit the suspect’s ex-wife - who lived four hours away. You needed to interview her to see if she could give you any further insight to the man, and perhaps - beat him to the house if she was the ultimate target. 

(A lot of the victims looked like her, and it couldn’t really be a coincidence.) 

You knew that lives were at risk, and it was juvenile of you, but all you heard was: long, boring drive. Boring day. You hoped that Reid would be good company through it. 

Now, you were waiting outside of the police station in the bureau-issued SUV, waiting for Morgan to come and give you the file with the ex-wife’s address and contact information. 

“Did you know that over forty-six percent of Texans own a gun? Texas is second only to Montana in registered gun ownership, where over sixty-six percent of citizens proudly tote their right to bear arms.” Reid told you, continuing to look over the case files that were sitting in his lap. 

When you looked over toward him to reply to this odd factoid, your mind got caught up on something else. 

“Reid, come on, take your feet off the dashboard!” You told him, reaching over to gently smack his knee, trying to encourage his legs down from the awkward position. 

It bothered you for several reasons - the idea that he would leave shoe prints on the dashboard, which was minor and cosmetic, but still annoying. And the fact that if the car did happen to get hit head-on, the air-bag would explode out and push his knees into his chest, causing his shattered leg bones to pierce his organs and possibly kill him. (At the very least, he would never walk again.) 

Speaking of which: 

“And put your seatbelt on!” You barked, now noticing that he wasn’t wearing it past all of the files he had piled into his lap. “You of all people should know how many deaths are caused by not wearing a seatbelt.” 

Spencer opened his mouth to spout out this exact statistic, but before he could get the words out, another voice entered the conversation. 

“Aw, Reid, listen to your Mommy.” 

You were almost startled by Morgan’s voice coming from the open driver’s side window so suddenly. His appearance there as if out of nowhere was so jarring that you couldn’t get caught up on the way he had called you Reid’s Mommy. Your head whipped toward Morgan so quickly that you didn’t notice the flash across Spencer’s features - worry, dawning. You didn’t take note of the way he rushed to comply with putting on his seatbelt. As if he was rushing to please you, even unconsciously. 

“I bet if you’re a good boy, she might even breastfeed you when you get there.” 

Morgan then pursed his lips and made loudly suckling noises, clearly imitating breastfeeding in what he thought was a comedic way. 

Again - glaring at the muscled man through the open window, you didn’t see Spencer’s reaction. You didn’t see the way his large, glassy eyes flickered to your breasts (only emphasized by your own seatbelt crossed over the center of your chest) before he forced himself to focus on the files in front of him so that he wouldn’t feel so caught.

“Shut up.” You told Morgan, your voice so commanding and firm that his simple order was enough to get him to stop his antics. 

“And give me the address already.” You held out your hand expectantly, and Morgan handed you the file, which you placed onto the center console. 

Then, you turned back to him for one last point, determined to have the final word in the conversation. 

“Besides, we both know that you’re the one who’s got an obsession with my breasts, anyway. Just because you stare while wearing sunglasses, doesn’t mean I don’t notice. My eyes are up here, pal.” You told him sharply. 

He let out a scoff at this, and rolled his eyes behind his dark frames - but he made no clever comeback. 

You had successfully bested him. And with that knowledge, you rolled up the window and left him standing dumbly in the parking lot as you sped off. 

… 

You pulled over later to put the address into the GPS system, and you let out a long-winded groan when you found that it was more than four hours away. Four hours and twenty five minutes. 

So you pulled over again to get gas and stocked up on snacks, and you were surprised that Reid wasn’t giving you some lesson about the colloquial use of ‘soda’ and ‘pop’ (thinking that you hadn’t listened the other ten times when he had gone on the same rambling point about linguistics and how language evolves). 

He was being far too quiet for your liking. 

But he was keeping his eyes glued to the files, and you guessed that he was churning over something in that big brain of his, like he usually was. 

You were entirely surprised when the next time he spoke - it wasn’t about the case at all. 

“How - how do you know that Morgan likes your breasts?” He asked, his voice low and mousy, looking straight ahead as he fidgeted with his hands in his lap. 

“What?” You gaped, the word flying out of your mouth as your brain was utterly slow to process what he had just said. 

Hearing Spencer use the word ‘breasts’ was jarring, but somehow utterly adorable. You found it stirring a slight heat within you. Especially because he was still so shy. The whole thing made you want to pin him down and force the shyness out of him. 

Spencer felt the need to further explain himself. 

“When - when you were talking to him, you said: ‘we both know that you’re the one who’s got an obsession with my breasts.’” He said, repeating back what you had said, word for word, using that perfect memory of his. 

You wondered if that’s what he had been doing, sitting there in his seat so silently for the past hour of the car ride - going over the conversation again and again in his head, trying to make sense of it. And because he couldn’t make any sense of it by himself, now he was consulting you. 

Again, you found it so utterly adorable. 

“Morgan didn’t deny it. So - was it a hypothesis based on something, or did you just call him out hoping that you weren’t wrong?” Reid continued, sparing only a singular glance in your direction, a look that you caught out of the corner of your eye with your gaze still mostly focused ahead on the road. 

You found it intensely cute that he was using the word ‘hypothesis’ in this situation. You wondered if he ever turned it off - the textbook big words and the intellect that he always carried himself with. You wondered if you could make him turn it off. You wondered if there was any situation where Spencer Reid could be as stupid as any other man - chasing a bone, desperate to get his nut off. 

For the first time ever - you imagined Spencer Reid underneath you, blabbering nonsense, begging for release with your hand around his cock as you pumped him, red and aching, so slick in your palm. Desperate, empty-headed, beautifully stupid. 

(See, this was what happened when you were forced to do grunt work. You got bored. And when you got bored - you had to entertain yourself somehow.) 

“It was a pretty well-informed hypothesis.” You replied. Now that Spencer had brought the topic up, you certainly weren’t going to shy away from the discussion. “Morgan often brings up my sex life, and wants to engage in detailed discussions about my sexual encounters with me. So I assume that he spends a fair amount of time thinking about me in a sexual way.” 

Reid let out a choked-off noise at this. 

You continued. 

“Plus, he’s always staring down my top. He’s not exactly subtle.” 

“You - you actually notice that kind of thing?” He chirped, his voice becoming a few octaves higher as worry flooded him. 

You bit your lip, suppressing a grin. 

Of course, you had noticed the times that Spencer stared at your breasts as well. He was even less subtle about it than Morgan was. You didn’t mind it when he did it, because you knew that Spencer wasn’t exactly casanova. He didn’t have a different girl every other week like Morgan did, so taking a glance down your shirt when he passed you a morning coffee was probably about as much action as he got. 

Secretly, letting him get away with it was your gift to him. 

“Don’t worry about it, baby.” You told him, the pet name slipping out mindlessly as you reached over and gently patted his knee as a form of reassurance. 

This movement unintentionally drew his eyes toward your chest, especially in his desperation to look anywhere but your face, not wanting to make eye contact with you. But he found his eyes glued to the swell of your breasts once again - hating how perfect they looked, even through the simple cotton shirt and plain bra that you wore. 

“Sorry, Mommy.” The word slipped out before he could even consciously process it. “Sorry!” 

Spencer raised a hand to smack his own face at lightning speed, and slumped down into his seat in embarrassment. 

You bit your lip to suppress a grin. It stirred a filthy heat in your belly. But you knew that Spencer likely needed a while to sit with this and wouldn’t want to talk about it - not yet. So you reached over and turned on the radio, letting the music fill the space so that the silence wasn’t so awkward and gutting. 

…

Spencer didn’t talk for the entirety of the rest of the car ride, which didn’t surprise you. 

When you finally arrived at the ex-wife’s house, his hands were shaking with nerves as he tried to unlatch his seatbelt. You probably should have just left him alone to struggle, but an evil spark, likely fueled by the boredom of the day, flared up inside of you. You couldn’t resist the urge to lean over the console, very purposefully showing off your breasts as you gently pushed his hands away and undid the belt for him. 

“Here, let Mommy get that for you.” You said, distinct teasing on your breath as you mumbled the words into his ear. 

Spencer huffed out a deep sigh and collapsed back into his seat, and pushed his hair out of his face in frustration. But he didn’t say anything more as you gathered the files in preparation for the interview. 

He only spoke when you moved to get out of the car. 

“Look, I-” He began a half assed explanation, and you easily cut him off. 

“You let Morgan get in your head too much.” You told him with a chuckle, opening your door and getting out. 

But as he forced himself to follow you with numb limbs - he knew that this definitely wasn’t all Morgan’s fault. 

… 

The ex-wife didn’t know much. 

She described the marriage as hell - the suspect exhibited all the typical behaviors as a husband that they would have expected. He hated women, and he wanted full control over his wife at the time, which eventually led down the path of divorce. They had to sell the house they had bought together, but neither of them had moved out of Texas since. But he hadn’t contacted her in years. 

She had two young kids from a new relationship, and when the woman stepped out to take a call, you picked one of them up to soothe his cries, hushing him gently while you rubbed his back. 

Because of this, Spencer found himself even more dizzy and confused. 

He knew that it was Frueadian - some deep, misguided part of his psychology - something broken and missing inside of him because of his own fractured childhood. 

But seeing you being so sweet with a kid, especially after the day he’d had - he wasn’t sure if he wanted to be your baby, or if he wanted to shoot his cum so deep inside you that it would ensure he could give you one. 

(Ultimately, he knew that it was likely both - and that didn’t answer any questions for him. It just gave him far more questions.) 

… 

Even though the ex-wife couldn’t give you guys much more than you already knew, Hotch wanted you and Spencer to stay close by in case the suspect decided to make his ex-wife the end game. The two of you would be able to make it to her first if she called for help. 

So you and Spencer had dinner at a random local barbeque place off the highway and Spencer still didn’t talk much through it, other than posing some theories about the case. Even though he was a bit more talkative, he still refused to look at you - he stared down at his plate the whole time. Though whenever he did look up, you noticed that his eyes lingered on your chest - and he still wouldn’t look you in the eye. 

By the time the bill came around and the two of you were ready to leave, you knew exactly what you had to do. 

… 

Spencer waited by the car with his bag while you checked in and got a motel room (needing to stay in town, you got a room for the night). When you came back, you handed him the room key and then moved to get your bag out of the car. 

“Do… you already have yours?” He asked quietly. 

“Hmm?” You hummed in reply, slinging the strap of your go-bag over your shoulder before you closed the back door and used the remote to lock up the car. 

“Your room key?” 

You suppressed another grin. 

“I only got one room.” You told him. “You don’t mind sharing with me, right?” 

You gave him a purposeful look - looked at him through your lashes, bit your lip slightly, and subtly squeezed your breasts together with your upper arms, emphasizing them. You knew exactly what you were doing to him, but hopefully it seemed subtle. 

“I - uh - no.” Spencer stuttered. “It’s fine. We can share.” He gave a grin, not wanting to appear upset, even though his entire body was racked with nerves. 

Spencer followed you to the room and he fumbled with the key with shaking hands for a moment before he sighed and then handed it to you. 

His insides quaked when he saw that there was only one bed. 

He wasn’t sure if he should say anything about it. The two of you had slept in the same room before, but you had never shared a bed before. Sure, you had slept near each other before. He had accidentally fallen asleep on your shoulder on the plane or vice versa. But you had never crawled into bed together with the intention of sleeping together. 

And yes, just the entendre behind it made Reid’s head spin. 

He had a heavy knot in his gut, and hatefully - a distinct stirring in his crotch. He could only imagine how embarrassing it would be for you to wake up and see him compromised in some way. Or god forbid, if you caught him moaning in his sleep because of unconscious dreams that he couldn’t stop - for you to think that he was some kind of dirty sex pervert because of it. 

He felt an overwhelming need to clear the air overtake him. He had no clue how to broach the subject, but he knew that he wouldn’t be able to spend the night like this. He wouldn’t be able to sleep with this anxiety hanging over his head. 

He studied you carefully as you sat down on the edge of the bed, ditching your bag off to the side and heaving out a tired sigh as you began taking off your shoes. 

Spencer put down his own bag and then stood there, fidgeting nervously as he searched for words. 

“I - uh - I am sorry about earlier.” He mumbled out the beginnings of an apology. “What Morgan said was stupid, and I-” 

“I don’t think it was stupid.” 

You let out a chuckle, and reached up the back of your shirt. Spencer found himself frozen, his eyes tracing your every moment as you unhooked your bra underneath your shirt and then moved to maneuver the straps out from your short sleeves while you kept talking. 

“I think he had a point.” You added on. “Good boys should get a reward. And I think you were fairly good today. You didn’t eat all your veggies at dinner, but you kept your feet off the dashboard and you were quiet during the car ride. You definitely get points for being patient during such a long trip, baby.” 

Your voice smoothed into a soothing tone, that word - baby - melting like butter over your tongue in a way that made Spencer’s knees wobble. He hadn’t known it until right now, but you calling him a ‘good boy’ and listing off such mundane things he had done that made him worthy of a reward fired off sparks inside of his brain. 

A breath choked off inside of his throat as you stood up off the bed and peeled your bra completely out from under your shirt. Somehow it was one of the sexiest things he had ever seen, revealing the hard peaks of your nipples and the beautiful natural teardrop shape of your breasts to him through the cotton fabric. 

Spencer wanted to speak, but his tongue felt so heavy and dry inside of his mouth. He knew that he was staring at your chest so blatantly now, but he couldn’t peel his eyes away. He couldn’t even feel ashamed anymore. 

That dull tingle in his crotch had turned into a full on stinging interest, and he unconsciously pulled at the fabric of his pants, trying to loosen some of the tension that was growing, not even considering how it might look to you - him dumbly reaching for his crotch to make it look looser when his hardening bulge was becoming more obvious by the second. 

It was one of the most ‘caveman’ things he had ever done in front of you - standing there with his mouth hanging slightly agape, pulling at his crotch without caring how it looked. You definitely wanted more, wanted to see how dumb he could get. How far you could make him devolve. 

“So what do you say, baby boy?” You hummed, stepping close into his personal space now, causing him to get a whiff of your perfume - something that was only a dull trace after such a long day, but still smelled so good. “Do you want Mommy to breastfeed you? Do you wanna suck on my tits as your reward?” 

You gently ran a thumb across his cheek, and paired with the words, Spencer’s brain short-circuited. 

He knew realistically that you weren’t actually offering to breastfeed him. There was no evidence in your life to say that your body could actually support the production of milk currently - but you were offering to let him play pretend. To suck on your tits with a very sexual air, to call you Mommy without the teasing humiliation behind it that Morgan had hinted at (or maybe Spencer liked that humiliation, he wasn’t even sure). (He hadn’t even known before this morning that he liked the idea of calling you Mommy, but here he was). 

All he could conjure in response was the dumbest, non-human sound. 

“Nngh.” 

It was a grunt from the back of his throat - too much blood swelling to his cock all at once and too much direct attention from you making him dizzy. 

You giggled quietly. 

“Come on, baby. Just say the word. And Mommy will give you everything you need.” 

Spencer inhaled sharply. At this point, he was desperate to get some oxygen to his brain. 

His mind was racing, chanting out: 

‘Yes! God, yes! I want it so badly, Mommy! I want anything you’ll give me. I need you. I need you so badly.’ 

But all his lips could form in the wake of such dizzying lust was: 

“Please.” 

“Good boy.” You sighed. 

You used a hand on his chin to tilt his face up to meet yours, and you consumed him in a kiss - he was hungry and eager to meet your touch, moaning loudly into your mouth, his hands racing to touch you now, rushing up to grip on your hips in the most utterly needy way. He balled the fabric of your shirt in his fists, like he couldn’t get enough of you - like he was afraid you would dissolve away if he let go of you for even a second. 

It was cute, to say the least. 

You only let the kiss last for a moment, though. You pulled away to a disappointed whine from Spencer, which you quietly hushed. 

“Hey, it’s okay baby.” You soothed him. “Come here. Mommy’s gonna take good care of you.” 

You lead him toward the bed, getting rid of his tie in the process, and Spencer stepped out of his shoes along the way. You slid onto the bed and laid up on the pillows on your back, Spencer clumsily following you, crawling on all fours. The two of you had barely started, but he was full-on panting now, racing to catch his breath while his blood hammered through his veins. 

He watched on with eager curiosity while you got comfortable, fluffing the pillow under your head before you then reached down and pulled up your shirt. You pulled the fabric to sit up under your chin, finally revealing your gorgeous breasts to him. 

If he was lost for words before, then he had receded back to a total neanderthal now. 

His mouth fell open and his salivary glands started working overtime as his eyes raked hungrily over your chest - enjoying the pure beauty of the fatty mounds, striped with zig-zagging stretch marks and completed by your hard peaked nipples. 

“Here, come on, baby.” 

You had to remind Spencer what the goal was, guiding him into place with a hand on the back of his head. You helped ease his body to lay on top of yours as he relaxed into you - and his mouth finally found its rightful place on your breast. He became greedy, suctioning hard on your nipple as though he might actually get something out of it. 

Truthfully, he did get something out of this. 

It definitely wasn’t any form of nutrition, but it was something that drove him lustfully insane and made his head fuzzy and warm in the best way. This was the only time in his entire life that he didn’t have ten thousand thoughts running through his mind like the news blasting on television in the background. This was the only time since his first conscious memory that he had actually known his mind to be quiet. 

He felt intensely thankful for it. Intensely thankful toward you for giving him this feeling. 

In that moment, without all the noise, all he knew was the comforting feeling of your fat tit under his mouth, the heat of your body under his own as you cradled him. The soothing firmness of your hands through his hair and down his back - and the distant, sweet purring of your voice in his ears. 

“Good boy.” You hummed, loving the feeling of him moaning around your nipple - so constant and so greedy now that you were sure he didn’t even know that he was doing it. “Such a good boy for me. Such a good boy for Mommy.” 

Your cunt was humming between your thighs, aching so hard at seeing Spencer like this. The usually composed, intelligent, practically robotic Doctor Reid reduced down to a blubbering, moaning, needy mess just because he wanted to suck on your tits. 

Just because you had called yourself Mommy a few times in his presence. 

It was so utterly beautiful, and you wanted more. 

(You didn’t think that you could ever let him go after this. You probably wouldn’t be able to stand the idea of another woman touching him after this. But you would have to think on that more later.) 

You noticed Spencer canting his hips, unconsciously seeking friction against his hard cock while he continued to suck on your breast. With his eyes closed blissfully, drool gathering around his lips where they met your skin in the most utterly adorable way. You couldn’t help yourself - you scooted your knee between his thighs. You then used a hand to help his hips into place, adjusting him so that he was getting good friction against your denim-clad thigh. 

“There you go. There you go, sweet boy.” You hummed, feeling another jolt through your body when he let out a sharper moan against your tit, and began humping your leg in earnest. 

You were quick to encourage him, putting both hands on his hips and helping him along while he greedily hung onto you. He had on your hip, the other hand slipping up to cup fingers around the bottom of your breast, making sure you didn’t escape him while he moved his body against you so frantically. 

“That’s just what you needed, isn’t it, baby?” You moaned out, your voice wavering slightly as the pleasure of it all thrummed through you. “Just a dumb little baby who needed Mommy’s tit.” 

The term ‘dumb little baby’ came flying out of your mouth before you could stop it. Though you knew exactly why it happened. Seeing such a brilliant genius reduced down to this truly did something to your ego. And apparently hearing those words from you did something to him, too. 

He whined sharply against your skin and his hips stuttered abruptly. You knew it wouldn’t be long before he came in his pants, his cock throbbing against the friction of your thigh. And this thought alone caused your mouth to run off without restraint. 

“Such a needy little thing.” You sighed. “You love being Mommy’s dumb baby, don’t you? Not a single fucking thought between your ears, just sucking on Mommy’s tit without a care in the world.” 

Spencer moaned and it sent another jolt through your body - another harsh pang through your cunt. You loved how much he needed you. You loved how much he was clearly eating this up. 

You didn’t even care if you got to cum tonight; you just wanted to exhaust him for all he was worth. Because he was so fucking pretty like this. 

“You gonna cum for me, baby boy? You gonna cum for Mommy? Come on, baby. Cum for me.” 

These words were what ultimately sent him over the edge. Well that along with your strong hands on his hips, encouraging him along while he was mindless and busy mouthing on your breast.

His jaw dropped open, finally loosening that desperate suction on your now slightly sore nipple as he began to pant frantically over your now spit-soaked skin. He moaned hotly while he humped you in an entirely adorable, almost distraught manner - absolutely desperate to have the most friction on his cock while his orgasm overtook him. 

You could feel his needy cock throbbing against you, trapped inside of his pants, shooting off hot ropes of cum that quickly soaked into his underwear and even then, seeped into the fabric of his slacks. You grinned and bit your lip as you felt that wetness even beginning to soak into your jeans, knowing he must have set off quite a big load. 

Spencer soon collapsed on top of you, gulping in air as he tried to catch his breath. 

Any normal person would have taken pity on him (seeing as he was clearly nervous and inexperienced) and wound things down to end the night here. Anyone else would have likely let him rest. 

But again, you felt devilish temptation overtake you. (It was a feeling that seemed to be much more ripe around Spencer Reid.) 

You just felt thankful that your temptation and inclination toward chaos came in the form of lust, rather than something more violent, like the people you studied every single day. Everyone around you should be thankful for that. 

You used your leverage (and the fact that you weren’t nearly as exhausted from the experience) to flip him over onto his back. He let out a surprised sound as his back made contact with the mattress - blinking up at you with shocked, glassy eyes as you moved down his body slightly. 

“Wha-?” He mumbled out the question, only getting out part of the word before you reached for the zipper on the front of his now wet pants. 

“Hey, shh, baby. I just wanna see you.” You told him quietly, causing him to stare down the length of his own body at your hands as you worked. 

You got the button and zipper undone quickly and you let out a quiet ‘fuck’ as you peeled back the wet fabric of his grey slacks to reveal the sight of his simplistic (very Reid) white cotton underwear slightly transparent and stuck tight to his cock, coated in wet, sticky cum. 

“So pretty baby.” 

He only whined in response. 

You couldn’t help yourself - you reached up and pulled down the waistband of his underwear, feeling more lust pricking through you as he was truly revealed to your eyes. He was perfect. Glossy and wet with his own release, his cock pinky red from the exertion and friction, still half hard. You pulled the clothes down over his hips and he lifted his body to help you, clearly glad to be rid of the mess, and the second you untangled the fabric from his ankles and ditched everything aside, you were back on him. 

You skimmed the tips of your fingers oh-so-lightly up his shaft where it was sprawled across his pelvis, and his hips jolted. He let out a bitter gasp - as though cold water had been splashed across him. 

“You said-” He choked on the words as you ran your thumb right underneath the crown, gently pressing into the head, causing him to choke on a moan while his knees quaked. 

You sat on his knees to keep him still and his head became so fuzzy once again. 

‘You said that you only wanted to look.’ 

The sentence died off in his lungs somewhere, and truthfully - he didn’t want to protest. He didn’t want you to stop. 

“Sens-sensitive.” He whined. “Too much.” 

“But you’re so pretty, baby.” You replied, your voice turning smooth and warm like butter again, melting over his whole body, causing all of his muscles to go soft and pliant for you. “Your cock is so pretty. I need to touch you.” 

He let out another strangled noise when you cupped your hand and took him fully in your grip this time, giving one good tug across his cock from root to tip. When you did this again, faster this time, his lungs seized inside his chest - trying to take in oxygen so quickly, as though he were drowning on dry land. 

“You gonna be good for me, baby?” 

“Yes.” He gargled back in response. “Yes, Mommy.” 

He was already so wet from cumming in his pants, and he let out a pathetic dribble of precum as you continued to move your hand - so it was an easy, slick slide. One that sent harsh shockwaves through him from overstimulation. Against his own will, he soon ballooned back to full hardness - becoming painfully swollen in your hand while you sped up your touch and closed your fist tighter around him. It caused the most wonderful hurt between his legs, and made a downright filthy wet sound as you pumped your grip faster along his needy cock. 

Spencer heard wailing and felt the soreness against his throat before he realized that he was the one making those desperate sounds. He distantly wondered what it might sound like to someone else, if the rooms on either side were occupied, if the motel would receive a noise complaint about some frail woman getting fucked to death by her husband next door - because that’s what he sounded like in his own ears. 

But any of those half-thoughts were chased out of his brain the second you flicked your thumb up over the head of his cock and your dirty mouth filled his ears once again. 

“Gonna milk this pretty cock, baby.” You told him, your voice firm. “You gonna show Mommy how much you can cum for me? Gonna show me what a good boy you are?” 

Spencer let out another pathetic sound, his body singing with pleasure at his pure need to prove to you that - yes, he was a good boy. 

He felt tears wet on the side of his face before he realized that he was crying, but it was all too good to ask you to stop. 

You used your other hand to cradle his balls and you swooped down to capture his gasping mouth in another kiss (a very messy, open mouthed kiss that Spencer could barely pay attention to). Spencer screamed into your mouth while he painted his stomach with cum once again.

You only stopped jerking his cock once you had truly milked every last drop from him, his hips seizing up off the bed and your hand almost slipping off him completely from how sloppily wet it was with more of his cum added to the mix. 

He was purely exhausted then. His eyes blinked heavily, struggling to stay open. He vaguely remembered you cleaning him off and tucking him into bed - but he definitely enjoyed falling asleep curled up next to your warmth. 

…

The next morning, Spencer felt hungover. 

He wondered if that’s what good sex always felt like - the combination of endorphins rushing through your body and physical exertion tackling you over. His legs were sore, as though he had run several miles. (Which wasn’t even something he could make a bold comparison to anyway, because he didn’t exercise nearly as much as he should for someone with this job). He woke up starving, grateful when you drove to a diner down the road after checking out of the motel and planted him in one of the booths before going outside to call Hotch in order to touch base with the rest of the team. 

You came back with a small grin on your face. 

“Turns out that tip the ex-wife gave us about their first house in Arlington was pretty solid.” You told Reid. “They caught the guy on his way there. He had another girl in the trunk. They got her back mostly unarmed, and took him into custody.” 

Spencer nodded. “That’s good.” 

When he moved to grab another sugar packet out of the caddy on the side of the table, three of them already open and empty beside his cup of coffee, you grabbed him by the wrist. 

“That’s enough, baby.” You told him. 

His stomach curled, that distinct feeling running through him again. And against his will, that word slipped out - again. 

“Yes, Mommy.”

...

A/N: This is a standalone oneshot. There won't be a sequel or a continuation, so please do not ask for one. If you liked the fic, please comment about the body of work that has been written, or consider reblogging to show your appreciation. If you want to see more Spencer Reid fics that I have written, you can check out my Criminal Minds Masterlist, or you can check out my Masterlists for other fandoms to see if anything catches your eye. Thank you for reading!

[quarterlifekitty]

A crumb of attention por favor

Your thoughts on which of the boys have a praise kink vs degradation kink vs general voice kink vs none of the above? Giving or receiving, I leave it in your capable hands

you do not want to know how much planning went into this post

cw: degrading dirty talk, daddy dom type dynamic

Gaz is very into giving praise. He loves seeing you light up. That's a must have for any sexual encounter for him. Like you could literally be giving him a really quick and dirty wank in a public bathroom at a gas station and he's still be like "god, you're so good at this-- I love you, babe". He could be convinced to be degrading, but it's never something really mean. If he calls you a slut, it's because he's saying "I love that you're such a slut for me, love". And he likes a bit of praise! Just affirms for him that you feel for him the way he feels for you. Doesn't really like to be degraded, it's too easy for him to take it to heart.

Soap wants to give all of it and he wants to get all of it. He's addicted to feeling you clench around him when he says that you're so cute and tight and wet and perfect. He likes calling you his dirty fuckin' slag as well-- he knows you're multi talented like that, and he wants you to know it too. It's all said with reverence, he loves that you match his freak. And I have said many times that this man is a dog. As such, he loves praise. Call him a good boy and he's gonna jackhammer you. Call him a naughty slut and he's gonna jackhammer you. He has a major voice kink, sometimes he gets hard when you call him on the phone for a completely mundane reason because he just likes hearing your voice. He could jerk off to you giving a lecture.

Ghost is a hard man to earn approval from. He hates that about himself once he realizes it. Giving praise just doesn't come very naturally to him, but he can spit absolute vitriol like it's his mother tongue. If you can handle it, he's going to ask if you like the way he's abusing your cunt. You'd better-- it's the only thing whores like you are good for. And he's the same way receiving. Praise makes him freeze up if it's laid on thick, he just doesn't know how to handle it. But he loves to be degraded. He knows he's a bastard, and he wants you to remind him while you milk him for all he's worth.

Price will give anything, and take nothing. It's all about what you deserve! And when he fucks you, he wants you so utterly deconstructed that you can barely speak. He wants you to be blubbering and crying and whining, you don't need words to serve beneath him. Your utter inability to string together a sentence is the best praise you could give him, really.

König is a somewhat insecure man. And once you get under his exterior, he's incredibly clingy, and can say some incredibly sappy things when he's going crazy from how your cunt feels wrapped around his cock. Quite honestly, he loses composure if you're someone he really likes, so a lot of his praise and degradation is in German, but the tone is easily identified. His beautiful girl, his perfect angel, the deliverance of heaven onto earth. And much like Gaz, his degradation is mostly just assurances about how desperate he knows you are for him, how you'd do anything for this thick fucking cock, wouldn't you? But don't worry, liebe, I'll never deny you what your body was made for. And fuck yes he wants your praise. He wants you to tell him how good he is at fucking you. He wants the most detailed performance report you can give. Oh, and to tell him you love him. He has a voice kink, and is extremely weak to your dirty talk. You can render him non-functional by whispering to him, no matter where you are.

Nikolai lives to praise you. You just have to deserve it. And he has a very specific brand of degradation. He likes to condescend you. My malyshka is just so needy for my cock, isn't she? Poor thing, just doesn't know how to survive without it. And he also likes to tell you to do something he knows you're too fucked stupid to do, then tease you for not being able to do it, or for being to little to struggle. Zoloste-- there's no getting away from your papochka, my love. And there's no way I'm letting this sweet little pussy escape me. And in terms of praise, he likes when you're sweet. When you treat him well. When you're kissing up and down his shaft with wet lips, telling him how much you love his cock, how thankful you are that he gives it to you and uses it to love you the way you need.

And if you did for some reason want to see how much planning went into this, this is how much:

[igbylicious]

My god Im so curious about Yunho from your Woosan fic 😫 anything for a solo scene with him to see what hes like esp cuz damn

oh god strictly speaking i don’t take requests but OOF anon it’s whiway and you caught my brain right in the middle of a perfect Yunho-shaped storm asdjhadshj. so here you go, i whipped this up real quick >:3c

WHICHEVER WAY: A YUNHO BONUS

(set before the main series but doesn’t need context. features a different reader character)

pairing: yunho x gn reader

genre: pure smut, strangers who fuck

wc: 2.5k

warnings: bdsm sex party but like a lowkey chill semi-privately hosted one, dom Yunho, sub reader, big dick Yunho obv, explicit consent, blow job, exhibitionism (you suck Yunho off in the middle of a room full of strangers), a lil rough face-fucking & light choking, hand kink, hand on throat, Yunho wears a leather glove, dirty talk, cum swallowing, light hairpulling (@ reader), copious amounts of drool, degradation that sometimes leans into praise, nicknames for reader (‘cocksleeve’, ‘cockslut, sweetheart), corruption kink if you squint, Yunho pov, mention/cameo of the skz aussie line, also a San cameo and he’s shy :3, implied threesome w/ San at the end

a/n: gender neutral reader, wearing clothes described to have ‘generous amounts of see-through fabric’ but no specific details. reader is called ‘little’ but in a sweetly demeaning way; not a reflection on physical size, and also called ‘pretty’. there is a mention that Yunho has larger hands

Yunho always enjoys the parties hosted by Chris. He has a ridiculously large home with plenty of room to accommodate his guests, zero tolerance for unwanted shenanigans — and great snacks at the buffet table.

People tend to underestimate the importance of a good snack during a sex party. Not Yunho.

He scopes out the room while munching on some kkokkalcorn, not in any particular rush to get his hands dirty or his dick wet. It’s still early; the door has not even been closed yet, but already there is a decent amount of people. Yunho knows some of them, at least by face, but there are some unfamiliar ones too.

Yunho hones in on the unfamiliar faces. He enjoys meeting new people, like that adorably inexperienced dom he met at his last party; nerve-wrecked yet filled with potential — but San is not here. Too bad. Yunho wouldn’t mind taking him under his wing again.

But San quickly fades from Yunho’s mind when a stranger catches his eyes. When you catch his eyes.

He stops reaching for more snacks, absent-mindedly using a tissue to wipe his hands clean while he watches you instead. You took the flexible dresscode and ran with it, wearing a sexy getup with generous amounts of see-through fabric. Covered yet exposed. Intended to provoke… but not exuding any particular authority. You want to be noticed, noticed by someone who will act on what they see.

It’s enough for Yunho to mentally categorise you a sub, or at least a switch. He can never be completely sure from just a look, of course — but Yunho has a solid track record of educated guesses, and you’ve put too much effort into your look to be unintentional about what message you telegraph to others. Well, you succeeded in your efforts; Yunho has noticed you, and he is definitely contemplating to act on it.

Your getup almost makes him feel a little under-dressed in comparison. Nice slacks and a flattering pinstripe waistcoat, a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to expose his strong forearms. The look is finished by a nice, bulky watch on his wrist and silver rings adorning his long fingers on one hand, a leather black glove on the other.

(Okay, maybe he’s not that under-dressed. He also wanted to telegraph a message.)

You must feel his eyes on you, glancing Yunho’s way and unmistakably pleased by his attention. You bite your lip, almost like you’re shy, but then you subtly arch your back a little, pushing your pretty plump ass back. You grin when Yunho’s eyes follow the movement, then you saunter over to the buffet table with confident steps.

Yunho watches with a slow, amused smile how you ignore him completely, pouring yourself a glass of water instead. Already you’re playing. He doesn’t mind that, not at all. He can give a little chase if you want to be pursued.

“Haven’t seen you around this scene before. First timer?” he asks. His voice is casual, his burning gaze anything but.

You look at him over the brim of your glass, hiding a coy smile. Your eyes flicker over to Yunho’s hands, lingering on his leather glove. “Second, actually,” you answer, though Yunho infers from your tone that while you might be new to parties, you are not inexperienced with this type of play in general.

“Shame,” he says with a shrug. “Wouldn’t have minded showing you around. Give you the grand tour.”

You set down your glass, tilting your head with a playful glint in your eyes. “…You can still show me around, if you like. Wouldn’t mind being seen with you.”

The way you tilted your head shows off the column of your neck in a way that has Yunho’s hands itching. He considers your grin for a long moment, flexing his fingers. You don’t waver.

“Yeah. I can do that,” Yunho says, something darker creeping into his voice. “So what are you looking for? Any hard limits?”

“Nothing outside what Chris doesn’t allow in his house,” you say, not in the least thrown by the directness of Yunho’s question. You talk through some of your expectations and preferences, and Yunho listens with vested interest as the vast extent of your compatibility rapidly becomes clear.

His pants are already getting a little tight. You notice.

“Then… want to play with me?” you grin, biting your lip at him.

“Thought you’d never ask.” Yunho extends his ungloved hand to you, and he chuckles at how you almost seem disappointed; like you’d hoped for him to grab you by the throat right here and now. “Hey. All good things to those that wait,” he teases, beckoning his long fingers, showing off his rings.

“I’m not good at waiting,” you sulk, but take his hand anyway. For all your pouting, Yunho can feel the shudder that runs through you as his warm palm envelops yours, his rings pressing into your skin.

He leads you away from the buffet table (‘shenanigans near the snacks’ is among the things Chris does not allow), across the house’s open floorplan to a semi-secluded lounge area. You won’t be alone there.

Some of your future bystanders look up at the new arrival, though a few are too wrapped up in each other to pay you and Yunho any mind. Soft moans and faint wet squelches make up the background music, punctuated by the occasional muffled cry from a private room nearby.

Everyone else is seated, but Yunho takes you to stand right in the middle of the lounge area.

“Now, let us see what you can do,” he drawls, raising an unimpressed eyebrow. It’s time to play for real now. “On your knees, sweetheart.”

As you do just so, Yunho glances about the room again. Everyone not otherwise occupied is watching you intently. Hungry interest; some of pure appreciation, others laced with envy.

Just as you unbutton Yunho’s slacks and pull them down, inhaling tightly when you fully comprehend what you are dealing with, Yunho catches the eye of a delicate young man with long blond hair. A pair of lips is lavishing his chest with attention and yet he can’t look away, can’t seem to decide if he wants to fuck you or want to be you, face-to-face with Yunho’s impressive size.

Yunho grins at the pretty freckled blush on the young man’s face — and then ignores him completely, putting his hand on your head to give you a light push down to his half-hard cock. He sighs in bliss when you press a soft kiss against the tip. A sweetheart you are indeed.

You start off slow, not taking him very deep yet; first a few hungry strokes with the flat of your tongue over the underside of his slowly hardening dick. It creates an easier slide for your hand, but your mouth is focused on sucking his cockhead, teasing at his slit. Yunho takes deep breaths, not wanting to show just how affected he is already.

He idly wonders if this is your usual style, working up to more, or if you’re a little intimidated by his sheer girth and length. He wouldn’t mind that — it’s kinda cute, honestly. And it does lead to wonder just how filthy you’ll get once the timidity wears off…

Yunho likes the thought of that. Wants to coax it out of you.

“Cute,” he taunts with a raspy chuckle, sinking his ungloved hand into your hair. “The little cockslut is nervous about taking my dick down that tight throat. Never had one that big before, have you?”

You moan around him, glancing up with a pitiful shimmer in your eyes. You take him just a little deeper, whine in frustration at the physical limitation of your mouth, and pitifully shake your head at him.

His cock twitches, and not just from the vibrations of your whines. Usually Yunho believes he doesn’t have an ego about his size, just appreciates its utility — but then someone like you comes along and proves him all wrong.

A light movement catches Yunho’s eye, and he chuckles again. “Look at you, can’t even keep your hands to yourself,” he scoffs as you try to relieve some of the pressure between your legs. “No. No, that won’t do. Cocksleeves don’t get to touch themselves until they’ve served their purpose.”

You make a noise, slightly more distressed this time as you stare up at him.

“I’m not good at waiting,” you had said. It sounded bratty to Yunho’s ears at the time, still does now, but there is not a hint of defiance in your needy eyes, only desperation.

“But… I happen to be in a friendly mood. How about we make a deal,” Yunho offers in compensation. (Fuck, is he soft on you already?) “You keep your hands where they belong” — he pats on his thighs — “and I will use mine to reward you after.”

Just to make his point, Yunho goes to lightly wrap his gloved hand around your neck, leather pressing against bare skin, while his other hand tugs at your hair a little harder. He saw you check them out earlier. Yunho knows perfectly well how most people feel about his hands, and you are no different.

You swallow thickly around his cockhead, anticipation shuddering through you. Obediently, you press your palms against Yunho’s thighs, fingers brushing against his hipbones. Good. Yunho likes his hands too, likes using them. Especially to wrap around a pretty neck like yours.

“Then come on, sweetheart,” he says, tugging at your hair again. “Show me how far you can take my cock without gagging on it.”

Again, you let out a little moan around him, in protest this time.

Yunho’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. “Oh? My little cockslut is ready to choke on my dick now?” (You sure changed your tune on that one quick. Yunho is definitely not complaining though. Maybe you really aren’t a brat.)

You make an affirmative noise that grows whiny when his gloved fingers tighten ever so slightly. Shit. He’s gonna have so much fun with you.

“Then relax for me, sweetheart. Let’s see how deep I can fit in that tight throat.”

The answer is, right around three-quarters deep. It’s a brave effort, honestly; some don’t even get that far. And Yunho hardly cares about the neglected part of his cock, not when you are so warm and welcoming and wet around the rest of him, drool leaking down your chin. Your eyes are even tearier than before, swollen lips stretched obscenely around his fat cock.

You gurgle weakly, your eyes fluttering shut as you let him guide you up and down his length. He can’t imagine that your jaw isn’t aching, but you make no noise of complaint, content to let him take control now it’s clear where your limit lies. Yunho is fine with that, except…

“Look at me,” he says, just sharp enough to snap you out of your cockdrunk haze. “Let me see those pretty eyes while I’m fucking your mouth. A good cocksleeve can do that for me, can’t you?”

You blink up at him, your gaze wet and shimmering. There is almost an innocence to it, like it’s your first time sucking dick and you are in the middle of a holy revelation right here on your knees for him. Never wanting to let him out of your mouth again.

Although… Judging by the way you’re starting to squirm, rubbing your thighs together, Yunho suspects that last part might just be wishful thinking. He hisses when your nails dig into his hips, like you’re trying to stop yourself from reaching down. Yunho smacks at your hands in warning.

“Hey, hey, don’t go and ruin things for yourself now,” he sweetly coos, though his grin mocks as he firmly rubs his thumb over the length of your neck. “You were doing so well, is this your limit? Is this as much as a fragile cockslut like you can take?”

Immediately you whine in protest, trying to shake your head but pinned by Yunho’s hold on your hair, stuffed too deeply by his dick.

“That’s it,” Yunho hums in approval. “I’m gonna move a little faster now, alright? Be good and swallow my load, then I’ll give you everything you need.”

You moan eagerly, letting him fuck into you with shallow but rough thrusts. Muffled whimpers and wet gurgles escape past his cock, your chin soaked with saliva that spills down onto his glove. It doesn’t take him much longer, not with how good your hot mouth feels enveloping him, and the eyes surrounding you and him still watching how Yunho takes exactly what he wants from you.

He grunts sharply when he hits the back of your throat and you spasm around him with a loud, choked moan — and it takes all his self-control not to buck harder into your willing mouth. He could break you, he knows that. You would gladly let him, he knows that too. Not yet. Not this early in the night.

Instead Yunho pulls back until just his cockhead rests heavy and leaking on your tongue. He strokes his spit-glistening length, just a few quick passes and he groans lowly as hot euphoria bursts through his veins, magnified by the sight of your throat bobbing as he spills inside, swallowing him down.

Yunho pants with harsh breaths as he carefully releases your hair, still semi-hard when your glossy lips are finally released. They stay open in a wide ‘o’ as you stare up at him in a daze, like he fucked the shape of himself into them.

Your knees are stiff and unsteady as Yunho helps you back on your feet. It endears him, appealing to his softer side again. The sloppy mess on your face and neck, however, appeals to a different side. He sort-of wipes you clean, two tender hands cupping your cheeks, but he doesn’t try too hard. He likes the wrecked look too much on you. Wants to see how much further he can take you.

But as Yunho glances up to give his audience one last look, his eyes light up when he finds a familiar face. A face that has clearly been watching them intently for at least a while, cheeks dusted with an adorable blush, a distinct tenting in the pants underneath.

San.

Almost as shy and uncertain as the last time, though he no longer looks like he might bolt at any second — and he looks exactly as eager to please. Yunho is still not wholly convinced that San isn’t a switch, despite what he may say himself; but then again, Yunho’s guesswork has never been an exact art. Doesn’t matter right now anyway. A sweet thing like you might be just what San needs to melt that uncertainty away… and Yunho finds himself in a sharing mood.

“You alright, sweetheart?” Yunho murmurs to you, gently brushing his thumb over your bottom lip.

“Yeah,” you say, slightly hoarse but with a tired, radiant smile. “I’m really good.”

“Then… how does my pretty slut feel about having two cocks tonight?”

Your eyes widen in surprise, but you quickly find the target of Yunho’s suggestion, whose flush deepens when he realises he’s been noticed. Your breath catches at the sight of San, and Yunho smiles slowly as he draws you towards him. The night has just gotten started, and already it’s far beyond even his sweetest expectations.

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

Hello! Can I request (WandaNat ish?) it’s mainly dom Nat x sub fem reader where R’s dom Wanda is being sent on a week long mission and she knows R doesn’t do well alone so she trusts her with Nat and Nat is like this hardened harsh dom cause she’s used to dealing with the brattiest of the brats and ends up surprised cause R’s like the goodest girl ever.

Mommy!Wanda Maximoff x sub!fem!reader, Dom!Natasha x sub!fem!reader(platonic)

Summary: Natasha has come to look after you while Wanda is on a week long mission.

Word Count: 1.2K

Warnings: 18+ due to themes, MDNI

Authors notes: It was interesting writing a dom/sub dynamic where nothing happened between them.

Wanda paced the living room, worry etched on her face. She glanced over at you, curled up on the couch, and sighed. "I hate leaving you alone, sweetie," she murmured, her voice soft and loving. "But this mission is important."

You nodded, understanding but still feeling a knot of anxiety in your stomach. Being without Wanda for a week felt daunting. "I’ll miss you, Mommy," you whispered, looking up at her with wide eyes.

Wanda smiled gently, stroking your cheek. "I’ll miss you too, my little one. But I’ve made arrangements." She looked towards the door as it opened, revealing Natasha. "Nat’s going to take care of you while I’m gone."

Natasha walked in, exuding confidence and a stern demeanor. She was known for handling the most rebellious subs, and you couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous under her intense gaze.

Wanda hugged you tightly before stepping aside. "I trust you with Nat. She’s experienced and will make sure you’re safe and taken care of."

Natasha nodded, her eyes softening slightly as she looked at you. "I’ve got this, Wanda. She’ll be in good hands."

Wanda had just left for her mission, and you felt a mix of anxiety and determination to be good for Natasha. You stood nervously in the living room, unsure of what to expect.

Natasha noticed your apprehension and decided to start with something simple. "Alright, let's start with some basic rules. I expect you to be respectful, follow my instructions, and let me know if you need anything. Understand?"

"Yes, Ma’am," you replied, nodding quickly.

"Good girl. Now, let's make dinner together," Natasha suggested, leading you to the kitchen. Throughout the evening, she observed your eagerness to help and your meticulous attention to her instructions.

As you sat down to eat, Natasha praised you. "You did well today. Tomorrow, we'll go over a more detailed routine."

You smiled, feeling a bit more at ease. "Thank you, Ma’am."

==============

The next morning, Natasha woke you up early. "Rise and shine, little one. Let's start the day with some exercise."

You followed her to the living room, where she led you through a series of stretches and light workouts. Natasha was firm but encouraging, and you tried your best to keep up.

Afterward, she sat you down for breakfast. "Today, we'll go over your chores and how I expect things to be done."

You listened intently as she explained your tasks: keeping the living room tidy, doing the laundry, and preparing simple meals. You nodded eagerly, wanting to prove you could handle everything.

As the day went on, Natasha noticed how diligently you worked, always checking in to ensure you were doing things right. "You're doing great, little one," she said, patting your head. "Just remember to take breaks and drink water."

===========

By the third day, you had settled into the routine Natasha had established. She decided to test your obedience a bit further. "Today, I want you to wear this," she said, handing you a specific outfit.

You blushed but complied without hesitation. "Yes, Ma’am."

Throughout the day, Natasha gave you various tasks, each one a bit more challenging than the last. She watched as you completed each one with dedication and a desire to please.

That evening, Natasha rewarded you with a relaxing bath. "You've been such a good girl. You deserve to relax," she said, running the water and adding bubbles.

You sighed contentedly as you soaked in the tub, grateful for her care.

===========

Natasha decided it was time to see how you handled a bit more pressure. "Today, we're going to do some more intense training," she announced.

She led you through a series of more demanding exercises, both physical and mental. You felt the strain but pushed through, wanting to impress her.

Throughout the day, Natasha remained attentive, offering praise and corrections as needed. By the end of the day, you were exhausted but proud of yourself.

"Well done, little one," Natasha said, giving you a rare smile. "You've shown great determination."

==========

On the fifth day, Natasha decided to lighten things up. "You've worked hard. Let's have some fun today."

She took you out for a walk in the park, letting you enjoy the fresh air and the beauty of nature. You felt relaxed and happy, chatting with her about various things.

Later, you baked cookies together, laughing as flour ended up everywhere. Natasha seemed more relaxed, and you felt a growing bond with her.

===============

As the week drew to a close, Natasha sat down with you for a heart-to-heart talk. "You've done exceptionally well, little one. I'm proud of you."

You beamed, feeling a rush of pride and happiness. "Thank you, Ma’am. I just wanted to make you and Mommy proud."

Natasha nodded. "You have. You've shown resilience, obedience, and a lot of heart."

On the final day, you and Natasha spent the day preparing for Wanda's return. You cleaned the house, prepared a special dinner, and made everything perfect.

As the evening approached, Natasha looked at you with a rare softness. "It's been a pleasure taking care of you, little one. You're a very special girl."

You blushed, feeling a deep sense of gratitude. "Thank you, Ma’am. I'm grateful for everything you've done."

=============

When Wanda finally walked through the door, she was greeted by the sight of you and Natasha waiting with smiles. She hugged you tightly, her eyes shining with love.

"Welcome home, Mommy," you said, feeling complete now that she was back.

Wanda looked at Natasha, her gratitude evident. "Thank you, Nat. You've taken such good care of her."

Natasha nodded, a rare smile on her face. "She's a gem, Wanda. You've raised a wonderful little one."

As Natasha prepared to leave, she turned to Wanda with a thoughtful expression. "You know, Wanda, looking after her has been a breeze compared to the brats I usually tame. Maybe I'll stop taming and finally get a cute little thing like her."

Wanda smiled, a twinkle in her eye. "You enjoyed her that much?"

Natasha chuckled softly. "Oh, absolutely. She was a delight. Maybe it's time for a change."

Wanda’s smile widened, warmth and affection evident in her eyes. "Well, you know you're more than welcome to come play with her whenever you want."

You looked up at Natasha, your heart fluttering with happiness. The idea of seeing her again filled you with excitement. "I'd like that, Ma’am."

Natasha reached out, gently ruffling your hair. "I'd like that too, little one."

With a final hug and a promise to visit soon, Natasha left, leaving you and Wanda to enjoy your reunion. As you cuddled up with Wanda on the couch, you felt an overwhelming sense of contentment. The week with Natasha had been challenging but rewarding, and now, with Wanda back, everything felt perfect.

Wanda kissed your forehead, her arms wrapped around you protectively. "I’m so proud of you, sweetheart. You did so well."

You smiled up at her, feeling loved and cherished. "I just wanted to make you proud, Mommy."

Wanda’s eyes softened, filled with love. "You always do, my precious little one."

And with that, you settled into the warmth of her embrace, looking forward to the future with both Wanda and the possibility of more time with Natasha.

[lovelykhaleesiii]

Brains & Barbie!

PAIRING: Michael Gavey x fem!BIMBO!Reader

WORDS: 1,515.

SUMMARY: Polar opposites attract right? It’s science. Who knew you would fall so helplessly in love with the math geek of the century…

WARNINGS: female receiving (fingering), swearing, degradation kink, some praise kink, edging, cum play, p in v sexual intercourse, swearing.

A/N - it has been a hot minute since I wrote for an Ewan character, so forgive me I’m a little rusty.

this fic is dedicated to my soul sister @sahvlren as it was her bday recently, and she requested this specifically. I love you so very much, and am so thankful to have you as my dearest friend, boo. one day we shall meet, but for now we get freaky online! enjoy xoxox

+++ in light of the recent drama unfolding in this hellsite, I thought some good ole' smut would do no harm, right?

forgive me I shall edit this properly, but I must sleep for my night shift lol

You weren't exactly the perfect pair to exist, nor would any like minded person think it best to put you two together in a roo, let alone become intimate. And yet, so effortlessly you both meshed rather well...Michael, your "Norman No Mates" boyfriend [as he enjoyed putting it], was quite a mathematical genius. His family were somewhat stable and well off, however, he rejoiced in the idea that he worked his way into the academy, where as your situation was quite the opposite. Your father had attended Oxford and graduated, as did your grandfather, who also sponsored and funded many of its restorations and renovations. The ancient establishment owed many of its complexes to your family name, and hence, granted you a position in their literature field, warranted you did try to maintain your grades above a credit average, trimming it with a pass even...

You had tipsily stumbled upon Michael at some college party: he stood by some dark corner, a drink in hand and the other in his pocket, before you had ignorantly walked into him, mindless to your surroundings from intoxication. You had either gone to refill your drink or was seeking the bathroom [you struggle to remember the fine details of the night you had met], laughing obnoxiously at some joke your friend had uttered, before walking into the man that would ultimately make you weak in your knees.

"S-Sorry-" You softly slurred, spilling your drink on the floor, a droplet landing on your heel.

At first it sounded as though an apparent swear seemingly seethed between his curved lips, halting himself before cursing you further, as he adjusted his thin framed spectacles, marvelling at you.

"Y-You alright, love?"

The next thing you knew, you found yourself hot and heavy, heated bodies, grinding against one another, as Michael teased and etched his impressively long cock, at your silky folds. His mouth latched to your unmissable cleavage, as he suckled on your breasts like a new born babe to its mother's teat.

No man had ever made you feel more desired, and yet a fool at his beck and call. He uttered despicable taunts and jabs at you, whilst simultaneously, worshipping the ground you strut on.

"The sluttiest girl on campus just couldn't resist the cock of a geek, huh? Making her even more stupid than she is, look at you... Pathetic baby."

His words stung a compelling sensation, and yet you craved for more of his undivided attention. And seemingly, Michael granted you every fathomable bit he could muster. You were the girl beyond his dreams, needless to say, he never thought he even stood a chance with any girl, of that matter. And he as a man, beyond your tastes. However, the tension was palpable between you two, the chemistry undeniable.

You often found yourself unwittingly seeking his company, even risking your privilege in the confines of his dorm...

"How long left, Mikey. I'm s'bored!" You whinge, as you fidget and reposition yourself sprawled on your boyfriend's single-sized bed. Flinging your flip phone to the side, without a care for consequences [your parents would simply purchase a new one for you]. Despite being in somewhat sheerly covered attire, your ass cheeks just peaking through beneath your skirt, Michael barely felt the temptation to see [if he was even aware of your current outfit].

"Wait. Need to finish this equation."

His stern, unwavering voice and unfazed focus ontp the paper and textbooks before him, made your eyes roll with such annoyance, defeatedly sighing. The repetitive sound of his pencil thudding at his head, and your rhythmical humming, filled the silent void.

"Ugh- Michael, you should have just told me to not come- There was a party, I could have been at—"

"Do you not have an essay due by the end of the week?"

You contemplate for a few, solid seconds, before realising there was truth to his words. You did have an assignment due in the imminent days to come, and you had yet to begin.

"W-Well, yes... But I was hoping you would help me, handsome."

"Is that so?"

His attention still remained down, fixated on the text before him, yet his tone elevated, intrigue plaguing his words.

"I-I mean I'll still write it out, y-you just need to guide me—”

Swiftly he swivelled his entire body in the desk-top chair to turn unto you, a cheeky grin plastered across his chiselled face.

"Baby, you can barely do your times-tables, you think you can write an whole essay? Adorable..."

"But I sure know how to fuck you good. What man of your calibre can have a girl like me, say that to a man like you, huh?"

A darkness tinged in his piercing blue orbs, intently watching your every move and gesture, as he notices your hand hovering between your thighs, before disappearing beneath the short, skimpy skirt.

"Mhmm—"

Your thoughtless moans began to echo between the confined blank walls of the dorm, squirming against the neatly folded fabrics of the bed.

"And what do you think you're doing, exactly?"

Two digits continued to delve deeper between your folds, drawing slow, circular motions as your thumb remained rubbing at your clit. You had been biting your lips, only to release a moan, as you intended to respond obediently.

"M-My boyfriend's a bore, s-so I'm t-taking matters into m-my own h-hands—"

"Is that so?"

Without so much as a warning, a force pried your hands out from beneath your walls, your wetness coating your fingers and knuckles, glistening in the dim light. Within a few seconds, the emptiness between your legs vanished, as a rougher, more sizeable host embedded itself between your velvet folds.

With roughness, and vastly more pace, Michael's lengthy, slim digits began to etch deeper and deeper inside of you, pumping his fist in and out of you, as his other hand laid to rest against the mattress, propping him upright. Your hands immediately laid at your sides, firmly clenching the quilt between for some steadiness.

"Does my little slut have no patience? Brain to numb to think, she just wants to be fucked all the time, huh?"

"Y-Yes—"

Just as your ecstatic cries and moans grew more frequent, Michael's breathing sounded heavier, feeling your warm wetness making a mess all along his hands and the crevices of your entrance.

"This slut could've bent over to anyone. No-No, but she did for me, yeah? So needy for cock, she didn't even learn her times tables, huh?"

"I-I need you, M-Mikey—"

A third long digit shoved itself deeper into your tight hole, panting beneath your grip as you felt yourself fervently clench around him.

"That's right, princess. You need me. No man is worthy of this pretty cunt of yours, I earned it."

As you felt yourself progressively lose all your senses. gaining traction to the heat stirring below, Michael's sudden release felt cathartic. Watching him lick and lap every inch of your wetness lingering over his hand, made you feel delectable. Your lustful eyes searched below, for a fleeting second, you caught the growing commotion in his pants, as the bulge was evident, its shadow against the restricted fabric. As he tasted the last drop, a snarky smirk expanded across his handsome face, before beginning to unbelt and unbutton his beige trousers.

"C'mon princess, spread those legs like you always do, like you were born to do. Such a fucking whore, that's all you were meant for. Meant for me."

Aligning himself so effortlessly perfect against your, his reddened tip blushed against your sight, teasing your silky folds. His veins throbbed with excitement, almost palpable between your sensitive entrance, its length girth suddenly plunging itself ever so slowly inside of you.

With a first, rough shove, delving himself completely inside of you, his balls hitting at your rear, an escape of a low grunt vibrated against his lips, that remained hovering over your soft skin. Michael kept himself steadily propped atop of you: with each thrust, equally time and paced, his weight began to drop over you, applying the pressure down from above with his cock inside of you.

"The most perfect cunt, for the most perfect girl. And it's mine."

"M-Michael—"

"S-Stastically we a-are an anomaly, b-but my princess f-found me, like a good girl—”

“A-Anomaly?"

A deep, growling chuckle escaped his lips, his pace growing sloppier as he attempted to articulate: despite Michael having you weak in the knees in bed, he was still somewhat new at the act of sex. Struggling to juggle with the need to fuck and the need to explain, his lean, tall figure cowering over you, his eyes shut with ecstasy momentarily, before opening to glare and marvel at you breathlessly. Your lips latched onto his neck and collarbones in between your moans, intently sucking at his tender flesh, desperate to taste him, to leave remnants of your physical love, strewed across his body. Desperate to savour every inch of him.

"An odd couple, baby. B-But you take me so fucking well—"

"Mhmm—"

"There's no going back now, Princess..."

credit for divider - @/prettypixels-love

[bunny-jpeg]

swordsman

roronoa zoro

cw: pwp/smut, possessive!zoro, rough sex, outdoor (ship) sex, jealous!zoro, nipple/breast play

bunny says: like the fic? leave a comment! really love the fic? suggest your own!

zoro didn't mind many things. he was preoccupied with other things to focus on the specific details of the day to day of the ship. but the one thing that set him off was quite simple.

the sight of another man flirting with his girl.

while he didn't mind for the most part when sanji did it, but when it was strangers that luffy was showing good graces too. that was not acceptable. luffy had let these pirates on board and while you were helping them move their stuff, the men's gazes lingered on your backside as you walked past.

it made zoro tighten his grip on his swords before he came over to be your shadow to keep men like that away. he put a hand on your hip and leaned down to kiss you on top of your head.

"what's goin' on, zoro?" you asked as you looked up at him, but was just met with another kiss. zoro was rarely affectionate in front of others. he never saw the need to perform romance in from of others.

"want to make sure you're alright." he nodded as he pulled away marginally. his hand lingered for a moment before he continued to follow you.

you chuckled, "oh now you're worried i can't handle things." you put down what you were carrying and pinched your lover's cheek. then leaned up into a kiss.

"i don't like how they're lookin' at ya." he said as he wrapped his arms around you. he pushed you into his chest, strong arms protected you as he looked over your head to glare at their vistors.

you held onto the front of his top and smiled into his warmth, "oh, zoro." you chuckled, "i can handle them if they got too handsy." then looked up at him with a smile, "plus, i don't want anyone else."

his hand reached down to your ass and gave it a firm grab and chuckled darkly when you yelped. jealousy boiled up into his chest as he gave the other men one last look.

he then said to your quietly, "meet me in the crow's nest after dinner."

you giggled into your hand as he walked away. what a possessive swordsman, you thought. it was like he staked claim on you and has not let any man outside of the crew talk to you.

you knew their gazes were lingering, but you thought it was something to be proud about. to know that you still got it. you turned back to your guests and led them to where they'd be staying tonight.

and yes, their gazes were on your behind as you brought them through the ship.

-

after dinner, the sun was still out. the days were longer now, which meant that when zoro started to undress you in the crow's nest. there was a glow to your skin by the late afternoon light.

his hands were on your breasts as you were straddling his waist. you had to attempt to be quiet as he gave slow licks to your sensitive nipples.

"you think you can let them look at ya like a piece of meat?" he grumbled against your skin, "that's my ass they're looking at."

you pulled on his green hair and made his eyes meet yours, "you mean it's my ass."

he shoved his head back between your breasts and replied, "what's yours is mine." his large hands felt up your breasts and tugged on your nipples playfully while he gave the flesh well deserved attention.

"you're such a brat." you grumbled as you touched his hair some more. you felt warm from his touches, those strong fingers massaged the tender flesh of your breasts.

it wasn't long before he grew bored of simple kisses and laid out out in the crow's neck and started to undress you further. it was your little getaway from the crew, the only place that you could have some privacy and get intimate.

"you look good." he praised. his hands traveled your sides towards your hips, "too good."

you reached out for him and pulled yourself up by his shoulders to kiss him. your arms held onto his shoulders as he wrapped his arms around your back to keep your supported.

he was so strong, it was admirable. even though he could be a bit harsh. he was your strong swordsman, despite the streak of possessiveness.

"don't worry." you whispered in his ear, "i'd only ever want you." then he put you back down on the floor of the nest. he man handled you onto your hands and knees with your face pressed against the wood. he rubbed his cock up against your slick entrance. he sighed at the feeling of your pussy.

he was never a man to crumble to his knees, but the feeling of your sweet cunt had his mind going blank. he groaned to himself as he teased your slit, the feeling left a thumping in his veins. he knew his face was flushed, and you knew if you were looking at him, you'd notice it too.

"how does it feel?"

"if you're going to keep teasing me, i'm going to explode." you grumbled into your arms as you used them to cushion your face. you inhaled deeply when he slipped his cock into you.

you both hissed together as he bottomed out into you. his cock reached as far as it would go. you clawed into the floor of the nest as you tried to relax your body to accommodate his size.

"yeah... shit." he grumbled to himself as he started to rock against you. his thrusts were strong and methodical. you could feel your heart in your throat as he fucked you up in that crow's nest.

"shit. please. zoro." you groaned as you back arched. the sounds of your bodies coming together filled the air and a part of zoro hoped that your guests for the night could hear the both of you.

they didn't need to be staring at what he owned.

he held you hips as he moved you back and forth on his cock. it was so much easier in that position. it let the green-haired man bury his cock as deep as he needed to be.

you tried to meet his pace as you worked together to make each other feel good. your moans were higher pitched, and it made zoro quite happy. he hoped that bastards could hear you.

"feels good." you grumbled against the floor.

zoro grabbed your ass cheek and then gave is a quick smack in a teasing manner, "i'm glad. i want to make you feel good." he was hunched over you, sweat made his muscle glisten in the afternoon light.

he was encouraged by your noises. he wanted to see how quickly he could get you to orgasm. to watch you fall apart while he speared his cock into you. it made him hot all over as he continued to thrust his cock in and out of your sweet cunt.

"you're mine." he growled.

"yes." you panted, feeling in an altered state with the rush of pleasure through your body. a part of you got off to the idea of zoro being your possessive shadow. such a strong man paired with someone like you.

you weren't defenseless, your abilities allowed you to be a valuable asset. but to have your physically imposing boyfriend fuck you like your lives depended on it. it was a euphoric rush that left you gasping and moaning as he drilled his cock into you.

"please, zoro."

"i got you." he said as he felt close to his climax. he could tell from your short words that the pleasure had muddled your brain. he worked your body quickly.

your eyes felt like they were going to roll back into your head. your heart raced and your body, despite cramped in the crow's nest, felt electrified with pleasure.

with a few more heavy thrusts he finished inside of you. you clenched around his cock and finished as well. zoro put you onto your back and leaned over you.

he smiled down at you like a madman, there was no stopping him. you wrapped your arms around him and pulled him in for a heated kiss. there was no stopping you either.

-

the next morning your guests left the ship when you hit land. you hobbled around the ship as there was a 'pain' in your back. everyone knew what happened in the several hours you were in the crow's nest.

you tried to play it off, but zoro put an arm around you and puffed his chest out with pride. he fucked you repeatedly, he made you squirm and moan. and nobody was taking his girl away, ever.

[starcrossed-lov3rz]

The Upper Hand

Feyd Rahtha x Wife!Reader

Warnings: MDNI, smut, threeway? fourway? I lost count-way, orgy, oral, praise, dirty talk, light bdsm, Feyd ‘talks you thru it’ Rautha, light degradation, somnophilia (kind of, but it's something y/n specifically asked Feyd to make happen for her)

Words: ~ 1.3K

Description: Based on this request: “I seriously need a Feyd x his wife x his darlings-”

Check out more works in my Masterlist!

You whimper, shifting in your sleep and attempting to roll onto your side. You’re met with resistance, unable to move. A short panic bursts through you as your brain sluggishly processes what’s going on. The bed is unusually warm, and a tingling pleasure is building between your thighs. You breathe out a moan as a tongue prods at- 

“FEYD!” Your eyes snap open to yell for your husband. But when you sit up, you find Feyd sitting on your couch. He’s lounging, silky black robes open to expose his pale chest. Two of his darlings sit on either side of him, eyes taking in every detail of your predicament. You immediately whip your head to see who is eating if you out instead of your husband. Another darling is between your thighs, pausing her efforts on your cunt to cheekily grin. 

“Good morning, love.” Feyd says. “Well-I certainly hope it’s a good morning for you.” His gaze flits down to the darling who has begun kissing and lapping at your cunt. 

“Ah-” you gasp. “Feyd, you didn’t.” A shiver of thrill runs up your spine. A few weeks ago you had confessed to your husband one of your most well kept secrets. Feyd had listened to your desires, expression never changing. At the time, you were worried that he was disapproving of your wants or just didn’t care. 

“Happy anniversary,” he purrs. “Our darlings were so taken with your filthy, little, wet dream that I almost couldn’t make them wait until our big day.” The darling at your core hummed as she sucked your clit into her mouth. The wave of pleasure lights your every nerve on fire.

Another moan wrenches from your throat as the darling flicks at your bud with a practiced tongue. You try to say something, anything to thank your husband for spoiling you with such a surprise. But the nearing orgasm is enough to leave you unable to focus. 

Feyd groans, “what a sight. It’s almost like this is more a gift for me than it is for you.” Your head collapses back as you pant and gasp out. Hips grind down into the darling’s face and she falls into your rhythm. Your orgasm crashes down on you, and your legs shake as they clench around the darling’s head. “That’s it, pet.” Feyd purrs. “Come for us. Let me hear what a good job your darling is doing for you.”

You push at her head, trying to get a break as a wave of overstimulation hits. She relents, pulling away to kiss and nip your thighs. A moan of pain and pleasure slides from your lips at the feeling. “Don’t you dare leave a mark,” Feyd hisses from his perch. “You may be here for her, but you answer to me.”

The darling halts her movements, “yes na-Baron. Forgive me for overstepping.” 

He hums in response before turning his attention to the darlings at his side. “My darling wife looks tense, why don’t you both help her relax?”  They both slink towards the bed, hungry expressions and feral grins making you gulp.

The taller darling captures your lips in a kiss that is nothing short of teeth and aggression. She bites at your lip and steals the very air from your lungs. A hand slides up the back of your neck, winding into your hair before sharply pulling. You yelp as your head wrenches back and mouth falls open. The darling responsible for pulling at your hair immediately attacks your exposed throat, kissing and nibbling at the sensitive flesh. Gasps fall from your lips, and the taller darling steals them with each brutal kiss.

“I want to see every inch of my wife as she falls apart,” Feyd orders. “Spread her out for me.”

The darlings flit about, one pulling you to the edge of the bed while another sits behind you to prop your back up against her chest. Her hands lock behind your knees, pulling them up and spreading your legs wide. You whine in embarrassment and try to shut your legs, but her grip is firm. “Feyd, please,” you gasp, “I feel so exposed.”

“Why don’t we fix that then?” 

Feyd tosses the black ties of his robe to the darling in front of you. She hands on to the darling behind you, who ties it to blindfold you. Your hands move up to push the blindfold, but they’re caught by one of the darlings. She binds your hands with the second tie, pulling back your bound hands. Your back arches to accommodate as she loops them behind the head of the darling at your back. 

You’re utterly helpless to their grasping hands. With your legs held open, arms tied behind you, and sight taken….you’re completely at their mercy. You’re not sure whose hand slips between your spread thighs to tease your clit. The cool air makes your skin prickle, and you shiver at the chill and the sensation of a tongue running up your stomach and to your breast. One of the darlings, or perhaps Feyd, kisses at your breast, sucking your nipple into their warm mouth.

“You’re just the picture of desperation, my love.” Feyd’s voice rings from behind you. Or is he in front of you? “Cunt dripping, soaking the bed sheets.” His voice has moved, you’re unable to track him down. He has to be walking around the room to throw you off. You moan as a mouth replaces the fingers at your clit. “Three people at your disposal, and you’re still unsatisfied? Who knew na-baroness was such a greedy little whore.” 

You audibly moan at Feyd’s words. He knew how to press your buttons like no one else. “My love, please give me your cock. I need it,” you beg. 

“No.” he denies. “I have no intentions of fucking you tonight until everyone here has had their fill.” A hand slips down to join the mouth that torments your clit,two fingers sliding into your sopping cunt. It can’t be Feyd’s…they’re too soft, too short. Regardless, they fuck into you with an eagerness that leaves you breathless. 

The darlings hands roam your body; holding you in place, teasing, pinching, plucking, fucking. Your head swims as your orgasm builds. You’re unable to place whose hands belong to who. The only grounding force is Feyd’s voice as he paces, purring filthy praises as you tremble. 

“Are you close?” Feyd teases. “Don’t answer that–of course you are.” You whimper, the muscles in your thighs twitching as your peak builds. “Anyone could tell you’re on the edge,” he murmurs. “The way your breath hitches, the little pants and gasps of pleasure.” You whine at his words. He’s not wrong, you’re hanging by a thread. “I can practically see your cunt twitching around those fingers, trying to suck them deeper.”

Your back arches harder as you try to grind down onto the fingers fucking into your cunt. “Just let go, my love. Or does my helpless little pet need my permission?”

A whine slips out and you can practically hear the smile in Feyd’s voice. “Oh, isn’t that precious,” he purrs. “My filthy pet is trying to be good for me.” He goes silent for a minute and you turn your head to try and find him, despite the blindfold.

“Do it, love. Come for me.” His voice appears in your ear as he bites harshly into your neck. Your eyes roll back as you finally fall over the edge. The noises around you dim to a soft buzz as you seem to float away from it all.

You don’t even realize how much time has passed, but you find yourself blinking as light hits your eyes. “My love,” you tilt your head up to ask for a kiss, and your husband leans down to comply as he tosses your blindfold away. “That was perfect.”

“I’m glad,” he murmurs, “because you owe me two more.” 

NOTE: "Lacie, can you go two posts just writing about monogamous couples?" Apparently not! I'm making sure Y/N is BOOKED AND BUSY lmaooooo. But also apologies for all the changes on every post! I've been reworking the layouts lately. I have two more requests to finish before they open back up again! I can't wait to hear all the filthly, fun ideas ya'll have for me. ~ Lacie <3

Taglist: @cant-even-think, @alisasyniashina, @clocksonthewall79, @cubehorse

Want to be added to a taglist? Click HERE!

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Dialogue: Compliments

Compliment - a verbal or written remark that expresses admiration, respect, or praise for another person or group.

The definition of compliment includes the general expression of good wishes or affirmations on quality, as in the example sentence, “My compliments to the chef.”

Studies show that compliments can activate the brain’s reward center, promote positivity, and help build self-esteem and overall good mental health.

Types of Compliments

You can compliment anyone, from family members to coworkers to strangers on the street. Some compliments include the following:

Accomplishments: You can compliment someone about their past or recent achievements. You could compliment a significant personal win like reaching a career goal or a minor victory like guessing the word of the day on a challenging crossword puzzle.

Appearance: You can view these compliments as flattering comments about how someone looks on a particular occasion or about attributes like beautiful eyes, skin, or hair.

Creativity: Compliments about creativity might include kind statements about someone’s artistic ability or creative solutions to issues, projects, or problems.

Intelligence: When you compliment someone’s intelligence, you could give them a sincere compliment about a specific situation or playfully tell them they’re a smart cookie in a general sense.

Personality: Compliments about someone’s personality cover many areas and might include statements about the person having a great sense of humor, being a great listener, or always seeing the silver lining in difficult situations.

Whole person: You can compliment someone about how you view them, such as telling them they’re an awesome friend or a great sister.

Examples of Compliments to Give

The best compliments come from the heart and are unique and specific to the person you’re addressing. Consider the following compliment suggestions:

You have a beautiful smile.

You always light up a room.

I love your style.

That color looks great on you.

I love your sense of humor; you always make me laugh.

I’m impressed by your ability to stay calm and focused when things are stressful.

Your ideas are so innovative and fresh.

You’re always so helpful.

I appreciate your honesty.

I always have fun when I’m with you.

You’re stronger than you think you are.

I’m grateful you’re in my life.

You’re an inspiration to me.

You add so much to our community; I’m glad you’re here.

I admire that you always speak up with your opinion.

I always feel comfortable being myself around you.

You’ve brought such joy into my life.

I love how curious you are about how things work.

You’re such a good team player and considerate of others.

You’re so patient when dealing with others’ problems.

How to Compliment Someone

Giving a compliment might feel awkward at first, but with practice, you’ll experience the benefits of improved relationships and an overall sense of wellness. Follow these guidelines when giving a compliment:

Be specific. The more detailed your compliment, the more impactful it feels to the person receiving it. Telling someone they’re a good listener is lovely, but telling them about a specific time when they made you feel heard them feels more meaningful.

Embrace sincerity. Most people can sense when a compliment is insincere, so tell the truth when giving praise. Avoid giving compliments you don’t believe, such as telling them they’re attractive when you don’t find them attractive or telling someone they did a good job when they failed at the task.

Include strangers. Avoid reserving compliments just for people you know well. A well-timed and honest compliment to someone you don’t know can make their day, even if it’s about something simple. Avoid complimenting people you don’t know well on their physical appearance.

Notice the good things. Pay attention to your family, friends, loved ones, and coworkers, and note their good qualities and accomplishments. When you spend a lot of time with people, it’s easy to only focus on problems or negative issues that need solutions. Incorporate taking in the positive and giving compliments regularly to forge stronger connections and make a habit of noticing the good.

How to Respond to a Compliment

In some cases, you may find receiving compliments creates anxiety, especially if you suffer from low self-esteem. Follow these tips when responding to a compliment:

Avoid rejecting the compliment. Sometimes receiving compliments feels uncomfortable, making you impulsively want to give credit to someone else, turn it into a joke, or tell the person why you don’t deserve the accolades. Though you may feel all these things internally, do your best to avoid verbalizing your self-doubt, which could make the other person feel foolish or rejected.

Express your gratitude. Accept the compliment as you would a gift, saying “thank you.” If you wish, you can expand on your appreciation by adding how the compliment made a difference (either as a positive emotion or as an encouragement to keep going).

It’s about the giver as much as it’s about you. When someone compliments you, they tell you how your behavior or actions impacted them, which may feel like a vulnerable act for them. Remember that how you respond can have an emotional effect on the receiver.

Redirect compliments meant for someone else. If someone compliments you about an action or work you didn’t do, redirect them to the right person while supporting their desire to give a compliment. For example, if someone compliments you about a work project you didn’t do, you might say, “That’s so nice of you to say that! Actually, Kim completed that job. I’m sure she’d love to hear your feedback.”

Source ⚜ More: Notes & References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[freak-accident419]

High On You

Derek Danforth x GN!AFAB!Reader

Summary: You read over the statistics and analytics for Derek’s company, as he requested. Except, while you do this, you’re on his bed, lower half of your body exposed as he does lines of cocaine on your thigh—then he eats you out.

WC: 1.2k

Content: 18+ smut, MDNI, derek danforth x reader (gn!afab!reader), oral (v!receiving), no spoilers for The Beekeeper, brief (yet detailed) cocaine/drug use, graphic depictions of sex and drugs (this is probably the filthiest thing i ever wrote on here), cursing

(A/n: I couldn’t wait to write it, so here !! Haven’t watched the movie yet, but if I notice that there’s anything incorrect here once I do, I’ll go back and change it ! I’m so sorry to my AMAB readers and/or the AFAB readers who get dysphoria from this type of writing !! You can check out my other smuts that aren’t genital-specific !! Love you all!! And thanks to everyone for your support !! Anyways, I think that Derek doing coke on the reader is such a Derek thing to do.)

Tags: @thehermitsaltar @coriolanussnowswife @moonlight-rosevine @harrysflorist @thegirlwholoveslivesfanfiction @joshhutchersons-slut

-

Your rich boyfriend, Derek Danforth, asked you to read over the statistics and analytics of his phishing center, informing him how much money he’s earned in the past week.

Except it wasn’t a very professional or orderly way.

You laid on his bed, looking at the information on your phone, reading how much millions were gained on Thursday, while your entire lower body was naked. You two were always a very intimate couple, so this wasn’t new or had invoked any feelings of diffidence, as your legs were spread out across the mattress.

He snorted a line of cocaine, pressing down on one of his nostrils to inhale the drug after spilling the white powder onto your thigh and scraping it into several thin lines using one of his credit cards. It felt tingly, to have him do this on your thigh, his head ever so close to your cunt. While this occurred, his free hand was resting on your other bare thigh.

He let out an ecstatic groan afterward, and then looked at you as his high rushed in. “What—What’d you say again, baby?”

You chuckle softly at his mannerisms. “I said that in total, for Thursday at least, UDG obtained, like, over six fucking million,” you reply, looking over the statistics on your phone again. “Business is booming.”

Derek smirked as he was satisfied to hear the news. “Damn fuckin’ right it is.”

His body slightly tensed up as he quickly inhaled another white line on your thigh through his nostril, briefly rubbing his nose afterwards. The sharp inhale caused him to feel a surge of euphoria throughout his body as the drugs entered his system. His eyes closed in pleasure, then opened, pupils slightly dilated.

You watched him do this, taking a short drag of your cigarette. “Last week’s average was five point two million dollars,” you add, observing him as he corrected the final line with the card, straightening it out onto your thigh.

“So what was the total earned in that week?” He inquired as your cigarette remained hanging from your mouth.

“Thirty-six million dollars, baby,” you answer proudly while he inhales the last line quite harshly, and heard him whoop as he gained exhilaration from both the drug and the statistics.

You finally place your phone down on the night stand to give full attention to your boyfriend. You bring your hand to his hair, tangling his soft, light curls in your fingers. “Congratulations,” you praise gently, watching Derek close his eyes in pleasure, leaving a small kiss on your thigh.

He placed the package of coke on the night stand and adjusted himself on the bed between your legs. He continued to leave soft kisses on your thigh, gradually trailing towards your untouched pussy.

“Mm, I’ve been neglecting you, haven’t I?” He observed, demonstrating a hint of pity. “Fuck, baby, you’re so fucking wet,” he huffs, pulling your hips closer to his face as he finally licked up your cunt in an animalistic fashion.

You let out a soft sigh, your fingers still in his hair, and you grab the cigarette out of your mouth, immediately putting it out on the ashtray.

Derek’s warm tongue caressed along your folds exuberantly, moving up and down as your breath hitched. He gripped your thighs tightly, pushing his face even further in your cunt. You let out a gasp—almost a moan—as he flicked your clit with his tongue, stimulating the sensitive nub which elicited even more intense sounds from your mouth.

“O-oh, fuck, Derek!” You moaned as you felt him suck at your clit, closing his lips around it while lightly moving his hands up and down from your thighs to your sensitive hips, thumb pushing down on your pelvic bone for a brief moment, causing more pleasure within you. “S-so good, love… Fuck, yes.”

He lapped at your dripping pussy once more, threatening to poke inside each time his tongue ran over your entrance. He incessantly licked at you, so desperately and lustfully, occasionally tugging at your flesh between his soft lips.

“Taste s’fucking good,” he mutters between his rapid licks, “S’fucking good for me Y/n…” He rubbed off some leftover powder on your thigh, messily inhaling it through his nose for enhanced stimulus.

Your thighs jolting as you let out a high-pitched whine once you felt his tongue finally push inside your wet, aching cunt. He was eating you out as if you were forbidden fruit, because he would rather die than never be able to taste you. Pleasing to the eye, he really couldn’t help it. He was practically making out with your pussy, exploring your walls with his generous tongue.

Your legs closed around his head and you brought both of your hands to his hair, tugging his curls, which gets a muffled groan out of him, the vibration causing you to feel even more pleasure. Your breath hitched and you choked out a moan as you felt his nose bumping against your clit as he ate you out. Derek felt so hazy and foggy from his high, and because everything was so sensitive for him, he could practically cum untouched from how much arousal he gained from pleasing you. Not only was he high on cocaine, but he was also high on your taste, and hearing you moan was his ultimate addiction.

“Sh-shit, Derek…” Your head turned to the side tiredly, eyes threatening to close as you felt overwhelmed with all the stimulation. Derek hooked one of his arms around your thigh so he could place his hand warmly on your stomach, below your belly button yet over your cunt, now focusing more on his precision.

You felt yourself closer to your orgasm, waves of pleasure crashing onto you each second. Derek slipped his tongue out, just to spread your pussy lips apart with his fingers, and then lap his tongue against your cunt again sloppily, making your thighs twitch, incoherent whimpers escaping your mouth. “Holy shit, you’re so fucking hot…” he mumbles.

You let out a high-pitched moan as his long, slender middle finger inserted into you effortlessly, quick, deep thrusts provoking wet, vulgar squelches while he simultaneously sucked your clit again. He pulled out his finger smoothly, abrasively running it between your soaked folds, then pushed it back in deeply.

“G-God! Fuck!” You whined, back arching as you succumbed to his touch. Abruptly, he spit on your cunt, lapped his tongue on you, switching constantly between your folds and your clit. You felt a knot in your stomach, in which Derek’s free hand had still remained resting on it. His licks were fast and rough, and you felt yourself being driven over the edge. “G—Fuck, Derek, b-baby, I-I’m—”

“That’s it, that’s it, baby,” he encouraged softly in between licks. He looked at you hungrily with his deep brown eyes, “Cum for me.”

The second you heard his command, you came hard around his finger, moaning his name loudly as he slipped it out to desperately taste your juices, him groaning in your cunt. You whimpered and shuddered uncontrollably, his insistent touch bringing you to overstimulation. He kissed it a few times, then brought himself up from the mattress to make you with you, lips moving with yours as it allowed you to taste yourself.

“Fucking love you,” he muttered in the kiss. “So good for me, Y/n, fuck.” He held you in his arms softly, being as gentle as he could, rubbing your arms up and down comfortingly. The room smelled like sex, as the atmosphere consisted of only your deep breaths and the soft, wet smacking of your kisses.

“Fuck,” you panted, and the corner of your lips curled into a relieved smile until you kissed him again. “I love you too.”

[morosluvbug]

let me take care of you - haikyuu characters

ft. kita, osamu, bokuto

⊹ genre - sugary fluff hcs

⊹ gender neutral reader

⊹ synopsis - reader is sick ohhh noo

⊹ A/N - period cramps are kicking my ass so im projecting my haikyuu faves taking care of me please help.

. shinsuke kita

"Your troubles are mine, let me take care of everything."

he is the best at taking care of you no contest, and knows exactly what to do and what your recovery timeline will look like.

he is a tiny bit scared of getting sick. the man has a routine he needs to follow and cannot allow himself to get sick!

still so attentive though, he will just be approaching with a mask. loves you too much to stay away!!

has tea constantly running, a meal schedule planned out, and will not let you leave the bed unless it is crucial to your health to go on walks to rebuild strength.

still has to attend to the rice farm!! but makes sure you are okay before he leaves and frequently checks in when he gets the chance.

very honest about the timeline of your recovery, especially if it's a nasty virus. but praises you so much, will constantly soothe your worries and tell you everything will be okay.

he just loves you so bad. he will soothe any muscle aches, prepare any cold/hot pads, do anything to make sure you are as happy as possible, and just wants to comfort you in any way he can.

runs you warm baths and will wash your hair and scrub you down, even going as far as helping you with your skincare (oh I need him). leaves you with his shirt since he will be gone most of the day.

will be giving you a sad puppy look when you're feeling particularly horrible. he just wants to take it all away :(

. osamu miya

"Give me your hand, we'll get through this together."

you tell him not to come near you, he still has a restaurant to run and can't afford to risk getting sick and serving people!

this man. he is not scared of getting sick. he definitely built his immune system through eating dirt with atsumu or something when they were little.

trust he will be glued to your side, he's the boss of Onigiri Miya! he's gonna take the time off and leave a detailed list of how to do everything for his employees, with his number left ONLY for emergencies.

if he does end up having to run to Onigiri Miya, he will be speed running getting down to the store, getting the issue solved, and running back home with anything you want as an apology.

you might be able to catch him on the phone with his mom while you're fading in and out of consciousness. he's trying his absolute best to treat your ailment :(

he will cook anything you want, tries to stick to a strict plan of soups and proteins but if you really want something specific he will fold automatically.

sits around and watches any movies or tv you want. he is so whipped he will run to get any sweets or takeout you want.

he will definitely call kita if he is really stressed about your health. he just wants the best for you and that comes before everything, even his pride.

not scared to kiss you or cuddle you, despite any protesting on your side of things to stay away.

he is so firm about you resting up as much as possible, this man will be sprinting down the hallway for anything as small as a cup of water.

overall, he makes the whole process really easy. will not allow any tears to be shed and wants his partner to be happy

. kotaro bokuto

"let me ease your worries, we'll beat this in no time! "

oh, poor bokuto. he has no idea what he's doing.

sad bokuto on the phone with akaashi and kiyoomi every five minutes. he loves you so bad but probably has 1) never had to take care of someone 2) has never had to take care of himself

if you live together at this point, he has anything that you've bought in the past. but if you're spending time at his place. oh, good luck!

he’s just a bit silly is all. knows nothing about medicine or foods you should be eating.

he is not scared of getting sick and DEFINITELY gets sick with you. but he isn't bothered at all, it does just mean more time with you after all.

he tries his best overall, will carry you everywhere (even when he gets sick) will try to cook and will entertain you as much as possible.

you might. have to sit with him in the kitchen while he cooks for you both. even if it's just him heating up canned soup and pouring it into a cup. please help him.

kisses you and holds you and and and

similar to osamu, he is wrapped around you the whole time, this man is glued to your side. he has molded himself to your very being. if you leave to go to the restroom he will be pouting. throwing a fit every time you leave.

he just tries to make you laugh and tries to comfort you :( capitalize on this moment because he spoils you so bad while you’re sick !! if you thought he spoiled you before oh no. he will be buying you any plushy he even thought you might like.

you want him to read for you? done. want your nails painted but are too weak? consider it done. want him to juggle random household objects for you? they might end up broken but he'll try.

overall: wants you to be happy. he’s so silly but so love-stricken that anything you want from him he will do.

reblogs notes and replies are appreciated!! <3

A/N. first fic in a long time hope you enjoyed my shitty hcs ^_^

[7waystreet]

legacies | ch.8

synopsis — a fiery (y/n) newly enters a university campus dominated by the three trust fund brats. she’s not going to take their shit and they’re not going to let her off so easily either. will this rivalry evolve into friendship, lust or love?

genre — college, angst, friendship, love, slow burn

disclaimer — 18+ strong language & sexual content

chapter index:

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | coming soon

ch.8

"You both probably have no idea why I've called you in here this evening."

Well...

You do have a strong suspicion, especially knowing who's sitting next to you in that moment, this situation only likely sparking up as a result of your secret dealings outside the campus grounds this past week. But you just sit there quietly not voicing any opinions, letting professor Jung navigate the conversation instead, which is taking place in his small office at the back of the dance studio. Jimin, however, who's sitting upright in the chair adjacent to you, seems completely clueless and even slightly worried based on his tense demeanor, his widened eyes cautiously inspecting the dance teacher with bated breath.

"I received a call from Mr. Park this afternoon..." professor Jung continues explaining, a conspicuous smile now gleaming on his face. "... And he's given his permission to let Jimin participate in the annual intercollegiate dance competition!"

"Wait... WHAT?! NO WAY!" Jimin promptly yelps as he jerks up in his chair, his palm slapping up to his mouth in utter shock before a happy chuckle trots out of him. "How did you even convince my dad, professor Jung?!"

"I didn't have to do any convincing. The decision came straight from him" the dance teacher beams brilliantly with his dimples, his attention now gradually shifting from Jimin to you.

It's right then when Jimin seems to realize you're also present in the room, the expressions on his overjoyed face swiftly deviating from happiness back to puzzlement. "So why is she here?" he points at you with a fluster, indeed a valid question on his part, but you still endure the burning silence, not wanting to reveal too much about anything.

"Mr. Park's agreed to let Jimin participate only if his grades remain unaffected. And he specifically requested for you, (y/n), to help Jimin with his studies. I apologize... I do understand this is a lot to ask from you" professor Jung speaks directly to you this time, a remorseful undertone laced with a plea in his inquiring voice.

He has nothing to be sorry for though as you're the one who'd brought this upon yourself, your fortuitous conversation with Mr. Park still freshly etched in your mind. The prominent man had already grown a liking towards you during your first week at the part-time job, surprisingly developing a respect for you and your ideas while you worked closely together with his secretary. It was just yesterday when you'd kindly asked him if you could leave the office an hour early to study for an upcoming exam, explaining in detail how your late night dance team practices were cutting into your time for school work, pressuring you into making some adjustments to your schedule.

"Of course you can take off early, (y/n). Exams come first! If only my son gave the same level of importance to his education" Mr. Park had hung his head with shaken disappointment, only to look up at you in a glimmer when you'd challenged him to view things a bit differently.

"If you don't mind, Sir... I don't think you give Jimin enough credit for his accomplishments."

"And what accomplishments would these be?" Mr. Park had posed, not offended by your brash statement at all, instead appearing attentive to hear your praise for his son, who he clearly thought was a failure for not following in his own business-minded footsteps.

"It's because of Jimin's impressive ability to dance that our university's won the intercollegiate competition 3 years in a row, a milestone no one's ever achieved in the past. Isn't that what every parent wants in their child? For them to actually be passionate about something and excel at it? You might not approve of Jimin's love for dance, but that doesn't make him any less amazing at it. He's the best at what he does... There's nobody better than him."

"But how far can he even get in life with dance? It all sounds exciting at your age, but the real world doesn't work that way. I thought a smart girl like you would surely have understood this."

"Sir, have you considered how much further Jimin will be able to go if you just once show him a hint of support for his passion? It will mean a lot to him coming from his father. At least give him a chance to try achieving his dreams."

Mr. Park had placed his hand on his chin, frivolously rubbing it as he took a while to think, finally meeting your eyes with shocking humility. "Can you ensure Jimin's doing well in his classes if I allow him to dance?" Mr. Park had suddenly sprung the unexpected assignment.

"It's not a lot to ask, professor Jung. I can help Jimin with his studies if that means he can be on the team" you respond similarly to the request in present time, the dance teacher's face muscles instantly relaxing at the sound of your willingness.

"Why the hell would dad put her up to this when he knows we're not even in the same classes, let alone in the same school year? I mean, she's two years younger than me! This doesn't make any sense at all."

"But I'm not complaining, am I? Why are you getting so worked up over it?"

"Because it's unfair to you. You're already busy with your own school work, the dance team practices at night, and you're also interning at my dad's company..." Jimin's voice trails off as if he's hitting an unanticipated realization, his shimmering eyes now sharply turning in your direction to search your face for the truth.

"I told you I can handle it. Would that be all then, professor Jung?" you sternly stand up to leave, not granting Jimin the time to even open his mouth in retaliation, or worse, precisely question you about your involvement in the matter, which he's seemingly recognizing by the minute.

"Yes. I just want to thank you again for committing your time to this, (y/n). We really need Jimin on our team to ensure that win, and now our chances of bringing home the trophy are looking solid. If you ever need assistance with anything, I'm always happy to help. And so will your other professors, I'm sure."

Flashing a faint smile at the elated teacher and totally ignoring Jimin, you hastily exit the office and pace across the dance studio two steps at a time, forcing the metal doors open with all your strength, then deciding to take the longer route back to your dormitory instead of the usual shortcut. However, Jimin eventually catches up to you by the end of the hallway in a breathless sprint. "(y/n)! Hey, stop! WAIT!"

"I really have to get to the library, Jimin. I need to study for—"

But the way Jimin swoops up in front of you compels you to stop short in your rambling sentences, your body banging into his chest from his sudden presence up ahead. It's quite apparent you're hiding something by how your eyes fail to meet his penetrative ones, all while he refuses to move out of your way, your faces just inches from one another in the lonely hallway.

"How did you convince my dad? I know you must've said something to him at work... Why would you do that for me?"

"I don't know what you're talking about..."

You certainly feel cornered as Jimin coarsely sighs with a hint of agitation while you fidget with your feet in an awkward silence, but you figure you've got no choice now but to delve into the discussion the way he's standing his ground with arms crossed across his chest, successfully trapping you with no way to back out of this instance.

"I just had a brief conversation with Mr. Park about your passion for dance and how he should try giving you a chance to pursue this career—"

"But how are you okay with the way he's basically forcing you to be my tutor in exchange for that? It's so not fair to you! You barely know him and what a manipulative bastard he can be. You shouldn't have accepted the deal and you still have time to change your mind. Why are you even doing this for me?"

"I'm doing this for you the same reason you're pissed at him for doing this to me" you blurt out, instantly wishing you'd thought a little before coming up with this response but it's too late, now covertly hoping Jimin catches on by putting some thought into your words.

"I don't understand..."

You're not even sure why you're feeling embarrassed at the thought of having to explicitly say it out loud, a tinge of pink blossoming your cheeks as you nervously lock eyes with Jimin's twinkling ones. Why do you have to spell it all out for him? How can boys be so emotionally incompetent sometimes?

"The Jimin I met when I started school wouldn't have felt angry for any inconveniences I'd have to experience for him. So let me ask you this — Why do you feel pissed that I have to pile on more work in exchange for you getting back on the dance team? The one thing you so desperately wanted over everything? It's a win-win for you. The trophy and a tutor. So why are you even bothered?"

Jimin's clearly lost in thought now, his wavering eyes searching the wall behind you as if the answers are somehow painted on there. The way his cheeks kick up in a red heat all of a sudden makes your heart skip a beat, an indication that he's coming close to working out his feelings for you by detangling the web of questions you'd so distinctly spun on him.

"Because it's unfair. And well... because I guess I care about you" his plump rosy lips press together, his entire body tensing up as he's unknowingly holding his breath.

"I guess I care about you too."

Despite the palpable embarrassment in the lone night's silence, your smiling eyes meet one another for a fleeting second of shared acknowledgement before you begin making your way back to your dormitory weaving the winding corridors. The truth was that through this tumultuous time being at the university, you'd both somewhere, deep down, grown to care about each other. Something had subconsciously changed between you both after you'd spent those vulnerable moments holding hands at the basketball court late that night, battling your personal failures together in quiet company.

The way you'd leaped up to defend Jimin in front of his father, and the way Jimin had felt angered by the unfair way you'd been treated spoke volumes about how you'd evolved in your relationship for the better, even before you both could come to your senses about these harboring feelings.

Tap.

The rustle of a crumpled up sheet of paper landing on your desk catches your attention as you're packing up your bag after your music theory class's dismissal. Upon scanning your eyes across the emptying lecture hall for the source of the mischief, you notice Jungkook leaning against the back wall intently observing you. He playfully points at the ball of paper as if urging you to take a look at it, so you roll your eyes and turn around to open it and sneak a peek.

"My birthday party's this weekend. Invite only."

"I see..." you briefly skim through the flyer which lists out the date, time and outfit expectations, amongst some other event related details.

"Am I allowed to come near you? Or is the invisible restraining order still in action?" Jungkook jokes in an attempt to gage your mood, carefully throwing no direct insults your way, which doesn't go unnoticed and makes you smile to yourself.

"The invite doesn't mention the location. Where are you hosting it?" you quickly hide your smile and turn around to face Jungkook again, giving him permission to come closer with a wave of your hand.

"Have you ever even gone to a college party, (y/n)? We're underaged so I'm not gonna go sharing the address on a flyer in case we get busted" Jungkook laughs, clearly happy you're allowing this conversation to happen in the first place, the pep in his step apparent as he makes his way over to your desk. "It's at Taehyung hyung and Jimin hyung's suite in the upperclassmen boys tower."

"Oh..."

Jungkook observes the sudden frown weighing down your lips, the boy astonishing you with his newfound attentiveness next. "Still fighting with Taehyung hyung?"

"I haven't spoken to him since I went off on him about his evil ways. How's he doing?" you steal the chance to check up on Taehyung.

Despite his cruel betrayal, Taehyung hadn't left your mind since you last saw him, the confrontation you'd planned in your dormitory replaying over and over again in your head at odd times, much to your dislike. Even if Taehyung seemingly hadn't given a fuck about you and had pretended to be your friend, you did care for him that entire time and still missed having that naive version of him around, as much as you hated to admit it. It was just going to be very difficult to trust him again if the opportunity to become real friends ever popped up in the future.

"Oh, he's not really been himself, that's for sure. He's begun acting the way he did after his dad died, withdrawn mostly. What did you even say to him? Jimin hyung and I've been getting a bit concerned. Maybe you could try talking to him? I don't know, he always seemed cheerful around you."

"He was pretending to be cheerful around me, Jeon. That was the whole point of his plan.. to fool me into believing we were friends. I don't even know what he's really like, now that I think about it."

"I know, but he's been scary lately. He clearly needs some type of intervention so I just thought maybe he'd be willing to speak with you. I don't think he feels like opening up to Jimin hyung or me about whatever this is."

"I guess I can try meeting him this week. Thanks for letting me know and for the suggestion... By the way, are you sure you're the same Jeon Jungkook I met on my first day here? Helping me and shit? It's like I don't even know who you are anymore" you fondly chuckle at Jungkook's intuitive side shining through. It was refreshing to have a normal conversation with him, almost therapeutic, as you felt some kind of weight lifted off of your mind about the confrontation with Taehyung.

"I'm full of surprises" Jungkook smirks as you smile in return and begin walking by his side out of the classroom, the sun beaming brightly in the courtyard reflecting both of your matching happy moods. "So you coming to my party?"

"I guess I'll stop by for a bit!"

"Awesome. Also, my real birthday's the day after tomorrow, we're only celebrating it on the weekend. So I'll be expecting two presents from you" Jungkook smartly giggles, your brows immediately raising up in question.

"What do you even gift a rich brat like you who pretty much has everything in the world? Any requests that a commoner like myself can afford?"

Jungkook suddenly stops in his steps after hearing your comment and turns to face you directly, his big bambi eyes gazing deeply in yours, a hint of sorrow lingering in his cast as he mentions "Your friendship. That's all."

He waves goodbye with a sweet smile that travels up to his pretty eyes, slowly turning around and walking away from you as you remain painfully rooted to your spot. You can't help but accept Jungkook has finally begun growing on you, his sincere comment unknowingly touching your heart and leaving you wanting more.

You'd left Taehyung a couple of texts and even called him a few times, all to be ignored by him for over an entire day. It was close to 10pm the day after speaking with Jungkook about Taehyung's wellbeing, the usual time you'd start heading down to the dance studio for competition practice. But your mind's stuck on Taehyung with an uncomfortable buildup of worry, unable to stray away and focus on anything else.

With the brimming anxiousness you're feeling in your chest, you hurriedly decide to walk over to Taehyung's suite to check whether he's okay, if he's even there, before navigating your way down to the dance studio. Call it intuition or a gut feeling, but the moment you knock on his door and watch it swing open, a wave of gratitude hits you like a truck knowing you did the right thing by resolving to visit him.

"Oh... what are you- you doing he- here?"

The sight breaks your heart into a million pieces. Taehyung appears thoroughly disheveled, unlike you could've ever imagined — his unkempt hair sticking out in random places, his usual pouty lips cracked and colorless, the bags under his eyes alarming. His entire face scrunches up when the bright corridor lights swim into the pitch black apartment behind him. He's in a set of pajamas but it doesn't even look like he got ready or left his place at all today. He's clearly sloshed from the lingering stench of whiskey on his breath and from the way he'd slurred his words upon your arrival.

"I texted and called you many times since yesterday but you hadn't replied, so I came to see if you were okay."

"Oh, I'm splendid" Taehyung sloppily smiles with his eyes closed, his tongue clearly heavy and his speech impaired, his tall figure swaying to the side before he presses his forehead against the door.

Without even asking for permission, you walk straight inside with a surge of concern ripping up your chest, Taehyung not really noticing you anyways until you hold him by the shoulders and kick the door shut. Gently guiding him over to the couch and sitting him down while he incoherently grunts, you quietly get a glass of water from the kitchen behind him and turn on a dim stove light for more visibility, also to not directly irritate Taehyung's eyes. He huffs like a child when you hold the glass of water to his mouth but reluctantly gulps it down, eyes still closed and neck now resting back on the sofa as you place the empty glass on a table nearby.

Gonna miss practice. Taehyung's not doing well. I'm with him at your place. Don't worry but come straight back when you're finished at the studio.

You quickly shoot Jimin a text to inform him of your absence, and thank God for how you and Jimin are on good terms so you don't have to deal with his wrath for skipping practice. You now focus your attention back to Taehyung who's begun randomly humming, clearly way too drunk, and you suspect probably high as well based on the light waft of weed drifting through the apartment.

Scooting closer to Taehyung on the couch, you carefully lift up his heavy, lifeless arm and curl it around your shoulder, tightly wrapping both of your arms around his torso after and lightly resting your head on his chest. The overwhelming feeling of sadness seeing your once closest friend here in this condition, mixed with a pang of guilt for never checking up on him after your fight, edges you to the brink of tears, the only thing your heart wanting to do in that moment being holding him close, letting him know he's not alone.

A minute goes by, silent tears flowing down your cheeks and wetting his soft white shirt when Taehyung's motionless arm around your shoulder finally grips you and pulls you in even closer, his cheek resting on the top of your head, his lips pressed on your hair. You feel his entire body vibrating as he begins sobbing, and all you can do then is continue embracing him tightly, allowing him to get it all out, and be there for him to share his pain in those passing moments.

It feels like an hour's gone by but both you and Taehyung just sit there on the couch hugging each other, both quietly crying for different reasons with no words spoken, but certainly lessening each other's burdens. You end up pulling yourself together much before he does, but you don't move an inch until he's gradually calmed himself down, only choosing to tilt your head back a little and look up at his face once his breathing stabilizes as close to normal as you could've guessed.

"Have you eaten anything today? Want me to order jjajangmyeon for us from your favorite spot?"

"Yeah, that'd be great" Taehyung croaks, eyes still closed while pulling in a sniffle to clear his sinuses.

A burst of energy recharges you seeing Taehyung respond positively to your proposal, a relief now that his speech sounds more coherent, although you've never seen him appear so exhausted. With him accepting the idea to eat a filling meal, you're sure he'll feel a lot better after, and with that, you slowly let yourself out of the embrace and grab your phone, quickly placing 3 jjajangmyeon orders through the app, an extra one for Jimin when he returns back from dance practice.

After another couple of glasses of water, Taehyung seems much more awake, his eyes ultimately opening up and taking in your full sight for the first time since you'd arrived. You greet him with a small smile but he just blankly stares at you, his eyes empty and void of the charm they so usually radiantly carry, his gaze lowering down to the carpet as he questions "What made you come here tonight?"

"Oh, I mentioned earlier how I'd left you texts and calls but you hadn't replied for a day, so I just got worried. It's unlike you to not even respond."

"I think my phone ran out of battery so I probably didn't even get half the things you sent."

After asking Taehyung if he remembers where he left his phone and quickly locating it by the tub in the restroom, you put it on charge, crack a window open for some fresh cool night air, and settle down on the couch again. At once when you're back sitting next to him, Taehyung instantly tumbles out "Why did you even worry for me? I thought you hated me."

"I don't hate you. And we don't have to talk about this right now. Let's just get you better first—"

"No. I need to know."

You can't help but sigh, your lips shaking a bit by the way Taehyung's somber eyes meet yours and helplessly wait for a reply, urging you to share your concise yet truthful feelings.

"You were always my friend, Taehyung. I never stopped caring for you. Even if you didn't feel the same things for me."

Taehyung's downturned lips quiver uncontrollably at those words, his swollen nose pulling in another sniffle before he mumbles out "I'm sorry", struggling to hold himself back from another sob.

"I know you're sorry. I don't hold any grudges against you. We'll be fine with time" you reassure him with a comforting tone of voice, placing your hand on top of his and giving it a squeeze. He presses his lips together to stop them from quivering and nods in acknowledgment, resting his head back on the sofa without letting go of your hand.

A few more soundless minutes pass you by, the only noise breaking it being Taehyung's stomach rumbling with hunger here and there. You know for a fact you're not leaving him alone until Jimin comes back, but at the same time your mind's zooming with ideas on how you can help Taehyung pull himself out of this dangerous slope he's heading towards, until a seemingly considerate idea pops up in your head and you decide to voice it.

"How'd you feel if we went to a support group meeting for grief and dealing with the loss of a loved one? We'll go together. I want you to get better, Taehyung. I'm not going to allow you to fall even harder using alcohol and drugs. I know you're better than this."

Taehyung doesn't move or say anything in response, but you're sure he's heard you, so you give him some time to process what you'd just suggested. A knock on the door breaks the silence, temporarily divulging your attention to the visitor. A quick glance at the time and you know it couldn't have been Jimin, the practice usually running longer than this, but a soothing feeling relaxes your mind when you accept the food delivery at the door and begin unpacking the containers on the kitchen counter.

What you're unaware of is how Taehyung's dull eyes are only set on you ever since you'd gotten up from the couch, admiringly following you around and gratefully observing the way you're going out of your way to take care of him, even after everything he'd put you through, only a few hushed words despairingly escaping his mouth once you bring the jjajangmyeon over to him with a smile.

"I'll go with you. Thank you for saving me tonight, (y/n)."

[moniibu]

*✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY X FEM READER *:･ﾟ✧

things to watch out for: yandere themes, bullying, possessiveness, normal yandere things, etc.

word count: I was too lazy to count.

summary: you move schools and meet the bully of the school who is head of the delinquents, skips school, yada yada yada.

this is a LESBIAN post, so MEN & MEN ALIGNED PEOPLE DNI !!

notes: new post after like a month lol. thank you to EVERYONE who like and reblogged/reposted my work. all the support means a lot to me. requests ARE OPEN, and if there is anything specific you want to see, just let me know!! i hope you enjoy my new work, *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY X FEM READER *:･ﾟ✧

*✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ who sees that you’re new. she knows everyone she bullies, and hasn’t seen your face before. as she usually does with fresh meat, she plans on picking on you and making sure that she makes your life a living hell.

*✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ who comes up to you, ready to see your scared face. she’ll make it so you want to move schools.

while you grab your books for next class, she comes over, slamming your locker before you can. she gets ready to taunt you, but stops as she sees your face. you’re so beautiful. she’s come across good looking people, but you stand out to her. the way you look up at her, your lips tugging in disgust upon seeing her; all of it makes her want more.

*✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ who begins to follow you everywhere. she’s forgotten about all the other losers she bullies during the day, her sole attention now on you. the people that she’s bullied feel bad for you -as they know how bad it can get- but are glad it’s not them anymore.

*✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ who “bullies” you into being with her at all times. you’re now only allowed to sit next to her at lunch along with the rest of the delinquent group. when you’re in your shared class(es) with her, she makes sure that the only other seat available is either right next to her or on lap.

*✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ who doesn’t come to class, pay attention, or do any of the work that is required for her unless you’re there. if she finds out that you didn’t come to school that day, she straight up skips. it’s gotten to the point where teachers beg for you to come to class so that she can do her work. they’ll give you extra credit, let you miss a test; it doesn’t matter, please show up so *✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ can come to class and pass!

*✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ who as much as she brands herself as a cold-hearted delinquent, desires your praise. she’s in denial about it, and if you ask her she’ll decline, but if she catches you giving anyone praise other than herself, she’ll explode on you. she’ll act like she hates it, but when you pat her head or very very rarely give her a kiss on the cheek and call her a good girl for doing her work, she is over the moon, and wants more.

*✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ who can’t stand it when you give other people attention. why are you letting that loser talk to you? or letting that tall strong guy ask you for your number? can’t you see that she’s right there? she can be everything you want and more. stop wasting your time with those idiots when you could be spending more time with her.

*✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ who shifts from being a “bully” to a extremely overprotective and overbearing friend. you want to go out with your friends? she wants to know who they are and every single detail about them. she’ll drive you over and you better call her when you’re ready so she can come and pick you up.

*✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ who makes it clear to her friends and everyone else at the school that you are off limits. you found a guy you’re interested in? all of a sudden he jumps when you two make eye contact. the teacher changed seats and you two are no longer sitting together? well all of a sudden that student never shows up, and when he does, he’s very adamant about changing seats with her.

*✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ who stops from taking your things and being rude and instead buys you gifts and little trinkets that she found while out and thinking about you. from now on, start expecting a gift bag in your locker -even though you never gave her your combination-, or her walking up to you in the morning with a bag in her hand and her arms open for a hug.

*✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ who decides that she wants you to start depending on her. she wants you to look at her in a loving light, and will do anything she can to make sure that you see it. she studies what you look for in a person and make sure she matches it to a t.

you like people with strong muscles? she has biceps that are hard to hide in her shirts, and will gladly show them off when grabbing your waist or picking you up.

you like people who care and know the little details? she’s here and remembers every single thing you tell her and always compliments you about a change in jewelry or how you style your hair.

*✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ who makes it where you can’t get a job just by a couple of phone calls. all of a sudden jobs that shouted “hiring” don’t want your services, and the jobs you do manage to get let you go after the second week.

*✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ who doesn’t let you forget that she comes from a wealthy family. you need money for some food? here’s a twenty dollar bill. you want to go the mall and buy outfits and makeup? just call her and she’ll be ready for you. she’ll be there right along side you holding your bags as she lets you spend her money on her black platinum credit card.

*✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ who doesn’t mind when you get used to having some pay for everything you want to do. that’s what she’s here for. she doesn’t care if you become bratty with her money, or that you spend it all dolling yourself up. it’s all yours, now and in the future. she’ll never run out, so spend as much as you want.

*✧･ﾟFEM YANDERE DELINQUENT/BULLY *:･ﾟ✧ who just finally accepts that she loves you. she loves you, and wants you to spend the rest of your life with her. she has everything you need. please, pick her. you won’t regret it.

*✧･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧ *✧･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧ *✧･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧ *✧･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧ *✧･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧ *✧

*✧･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧ *✧･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧ *✧･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧ *✧･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧ *✧･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧ *✧

this idea was made and created by @moniibu. all rights are reserved to @moniibu, and you are NOT allowed to steal, copy, or translate this work.

November 2023.

[helloaugustmoon]

·˚ ◌༘͙[his favourite thing about you…] ! ˊ

If you ask him his favorite thing about you, Michael will laugh and say “Everything, baby!”, and if you insist on the question, he’ll start pacing because he doesn’t want to disappoint you by not answering you, but he sincerely does not want to have to choose one specific thing about you that he loves more than the rest of you; that thought makes him feel sick with guilt, so it’s best you don’t ask him this question. However, if you were able to take a peek into his mind, or perhaps if you were particularly observant with Michael’s behaviors, you’d discover his favorite parts of you that he may not even willingly admit to himself.

Above all else, Michael’s favorite thing about you is your heart, your mind, your very being. He loves the way you think, how your mind works, how you express your feelings, your love for him, your love for anything else. He adores the ways in which you inspire him, each and everyday, in every conceivable way. That’s a poetic answer Michael will be happy to give, if you can get through his stressed-and-pacing headspace and make him aware that there is such a thing.

When it comes to your body, though, Michael is beyond the realms of devoted. At his core, he is a man, so is a natural lover of the most intimate parts of you, but his adoration runs so much deeper than that. He loves your silhouette, seeing it displayed in the form of a shadow; he loves the curve of your hips, your waist, your legs, and he will sing your praises (literally) for every intricate detail of your body. But, if you pay close enough attention, you’ll notice that Michael does - very subtly - favor your face, specifically your eyes and lips. You are the person to see the eyes behind his sunglasses more than anyone else, and if Michael could dedicate his life to staring into your eyes, he would in a heartbeat. And your lips? Every time you speak, it’s like he’s watching a tennis match between your eyes and lips, the way his gaze flits from one to the other. There is no better feeling in Michael’s mind than your lips on him, blessing him with the sweetest kisses. While he does, obviously, love kisses that he can return, the way the feeling of your lips lingers on his cheeks long after your kisses have left his skin…it’s heaven, and that heaven can’t wait. To say Michael’s a sucker for your kisses just doesn’t cut it.

“Baby, baby, one more. Just one more.” He pleads, his voice no more than a soft murmur against your lips, barely kissing yours in between words because if you call them out he’ll tell you these kisses don’t count.

“Hm, just the one?” You question quietly, a little breathless.

“Three more. Maybe four. A hundred, my girl, if you’ll let me.” Michael’s voice is no more than a whisper now, and with his last syllable, his lips are on yours and there’s no room for another word.

And the next time that kiss needs to pause for a breath, he’ll be asking you all over again.

[dilvuc]

hi again , im the one that requested the leona fic 😔. although i dont have any specific details in mind , maybe something like how the reader and leona meet or headcannons?

❝DUMB BUNNY❞

𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖊: fluff

𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗: male

𝖙𝖎𝖙𝖑𝖊: dumb bunny

𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: leona x bunny beastman!m!reader

𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌: none

when you arrive at nrc, you're always desperate to be a savanaclaw student, but you were unfortunately a heartslabyul. you get frustrated that you were picked in heartslabyul because you don't look to be suitable for savanaclaw. lame…

you bump into a lion beastman, leona, the lazy ass housewarden from savanaclaw and the second prince of sunset savanna. you certainly look up to him, but he just simply ignores you like you don't exist. how FUCKING rude

for a while now, you have been following leona to get his attention, plus he has to take you back to your owner which led you to be collared by riddle for your absence

“Keep your dumb bunny in check. He won't leave me alone.”

many attempts, you fail to get him to see you as more than just a prey. that doesn't mean you give up

you arrived at savanaclaw, only to be surrounded by beastmen. they made fun of you because you're a bunny beastman and nothing but a prey. this was enough for you to reach your breaking point

leona arrived at the lounge because his nap was interrupted by some noises and screaming and only to find that the savanaclaw students were beaten up to the ground by you

he questioned himself, did the predators just get beat up by their prey? that dumb bunny?

you give leona a proud smile, knowing that you can overcome your predators

“Who's the dumb bunny, now?”

you were hoping that leona would praise, but you received a burst of laughter. now that isn't something you want to hear. is he making fun of you?

“You're still a dumb bunny to me!”

before you could protest, leona gave you a pat on the head as a…reward…?

“Not bad for dumb bunny. You earn my respect, but don't take it personally.”

now that's something you want to hear from the lazy leona. it was enough to let you know that you're more than just a prey

“I still see you as a prey.”

wow! way to ruin the moment, asshole!

╰┈➤ author note: please note that this is a slow update. i will still accept your request, but it will take a while since i'll be working on my books on wattpad. if you wish to read those books, here's my wattpad account.

twst masterlist

rules

[disregardcanon]

this probably seems like a weird question from your end,but why do fanfic writers care so much about comments? aos already tracks hits and likes, sorry ""kudos"", so why are comments such a big deal to the point that people will stop writing?

okay, so i'm going to take this question very seriously and i promise it's not to make you feel bad. this is a comprehensive explanation of reasons that comments are important for me, both as a writer and as a reader

engagement vs numbers game

seeing trends

buy-in

community building

engagement vs numbers game

let's look quickly at two different fics of mine. this is the kudos count for a fic called Of First Kisses and Burnt Lips

it's old. it's been up on ao3 for almost 11 years now. 258 people liked it enough to leave a kudos, 12 people liked it enough for a bookmark, and it's been clicked on 3,859 times.

i have no clue what almost any of these people on ao3 THINK about it. beyond "huh. sure. i'll kudos that". compare this to its crosspost on ffn, where i got 5 reviews

3/5 mention it being cute. 3/5 give appreciation to me for taking the time to write it. 2/5 praise the writing itself from the attention to detail with grammar to the craft. 1/5 is an "um..." which is hard to decipher but appreciate and 1/5 is a silly reaction, but it's a reaction! look, someone felt a felling reading my thing! that made me giggle!

looking at the stats here from a purely numbers perspective, my fic DID better on ao3. it got a lot more kudos than it ever got faves or reviews on ffn. but those ffn comments are still what i think about when i remember this fic.

sure, a shear number like hits or kudos can be comforting and motivating. i'm definitely not telling you to NOT leave kudos! but the fics that i've come back to, recently, are the ones where i don't have a lot of kudos but i do have a few people who are invested in the stories and leaving comments to tell me

2. seeing trends

lets look at a few of the comments on my fic The Maid of Honor Made Them Do It

so just in these two comments, we see both commenters hone in on the same detail: my choice to include a special christian music playlist that this characters' friends made for her. a few other people in this thread mentioned that same detail, so i know this bit really worked well! it's great feedback that lets me know that a good chunk of readers agree with my characterization here.

these readers zoom in on specific details that they really liked! things that made them laugh, the absurdity of the concept, enjoying reading it, and that they could see it staged, which is a HUGE compliment for a work in a fandom for theater.

i've always had trouble with imaging where characters are in a space, how they're occupying it and moving, and how to use that for characterization purposes. however, i got more than one comment on this fic about how people could see it staged! that means that i'm improving in an area that i've always struggled with. that's huge. it makes me want to keep working on this thing! it makes me feel like what i'm doing here matters, because lots of people are picking up on similar things! they're invested enough to give me a comment! and it makes me want to keep writing for the hatchetfield fandom because some people are invested in my work here. that is BIG! seeing trends in the way that readers experience your story helps a lot with writer buy-in for a project and also for writers self-analysis.

as a commenter: this helps me JUST as much. when i really dig into what i enjoyed about a fic to tell the writer about it, that helps me analyze and articulate the strengths and things i might want to take away from the storytelling, and that makes my writing better too!

3. buy-in

this is a comment on a series that has less than 100 kudos across three fics, but has thoughtful, appreciative comments on each work. it's called Melting Pot

the commenter deleted their ao3 account. they may be one of the people who commented on the next fic, which i posted recently. they might NOT have been! honestly, it doesn't matter that much to me. this person gave me a gentle and nudge about a fic that matters to me and mattered to them at the time, and they were part of the push i needed to get back to it.

from a commenter perspective, i know that hearing a kind word can help someone keep up their motivation to write, even when i can't write in depth comments the way that i like to!

just recently i only had the time to comment "nice update" on a favorite fic of mine called Teeth That Turn. but they know that i come and i read and they know and talk to me by (user)name. because they know i care about this thing they care about! and it's way more fun to do something like this when i know i can chat with the author about theories and thoughts and ideas. and this isn't a "wow aren't i so cool other writers like me! tehehe" bragging thing, it's just evidence for the case of why comments matter?

if i didn't want this to be a two way buy-in, i'd ONLY read published fiction, you know? we're all playing in the sandbox on the playground and i like what they made. they like that i like what they made :) we're scheduling a play date to fight with sticks after school my mom said it's okay!

4. community building

now i know that i just mentioned above here why i like being a commenter and how it helps authors, as well as why i like HAVING commenters as an author. i'm still arguing those things as a lead up to this section, where i have two other points to make about community building here too.

1. you can comment on OTHER comments! if you go through and read to see what other people are saying, you can agree with them. you can add some commentary! sometimes you can make a joke! and i've only ever had fun responses from something like that. authors tend to love that their fics are getting such a response that people are talking to each other about it! like look!!!!!! my thing got you to talk to someone else about it holy shit?!??!

2. commenting on fics in your fandom builds you a good reputation and makes other authors you comment on more likely to read YOUR fic. i'm not going to post any screenshots on this one because it would be embarrassing for everyone involved, but there have been authors that i really admired who gave my stuff a try after i commented on theirs. and they've told me that's why they tried it! like obviously it's not just networking or whatever, but it's really nice to have someone give your stuff a try because you've been enthusiastic and thoughtful about theirs.

and you make friends this way! fandom friends! who want to talk about your blorbos! you get to go on little play dates in cyberspace with cool people who like what you like. you don't ever HAVE to be a writer, of course. if you don't want to throw your hat into the ring or make art or edits or gif sets or anything, that's cool. no one ever has to participate in fandom outside of their comfort zone! but if you want to, you know that you'll feel more welcomed if you have some people in your corner for it, and making friends in a space, screaming about how much you love the characters you love, and remembering that fic authors especially are just fans too will help you feel like you "deserve" to exist in the space. maybe you don't write, but you go here too. you've got a space in the fandom and your comments don't have to be, like, perfect literary essays for authors to appreciate them and get a motivation boost from them still existing and us being able to go back to them and go!!! look!!! i don't suck!!! this person liked what i did so i'm okay! :)