#and when i word it like that i think you can see what im trying to say because it's very hard to word

[princesssmars]

so...we can all agree vi is an ass girl, right?

modern!au. 18+ content ahead. post contains lesbian sex and dry humping. inspired by this video from love and deepspace. i didnt know they got down like that. wc : 3.081.

she didn't show it often before, but lately violet could quickly become so achingly desperate for you.

she didn't show it often, but violet could become so achingly desperate.

at the start of your relationship, she tried to play off her need for you in a casual way, brushing it off as just being a very attentive girlfriend. you never had a problem with, always open and accepting of whatever little bits of attention she would give to you.

but then one day she slips, and she can feel your dynamic shift as soon as it happens.

she was away visiting her family for the holidays, body snugly tucked under the covers in her childhood bed as she held her phone above her face. the house was quiet, the air was cold, and she was having an internal battle with the reasonable part of her that told her to call it a night and drift off to sleep already...

and then there was the other side. the one that suddenly brings to her attention the steady heat that’s been building beneath her stomach after you sent the prettiest photo of you all dolled up in your parent’s guest bathroom. the one that made her bite her lip as she observed every inch of you through the screen before instantly liking the photo and sending back a flirty message. the one that now gravitated her fingers to calling your phone in the middle of the night and hoping and praying you’d pick up, nearly breathing a sigh of relief when you did.

"vi? are you alright?"

loaded question, she thinks to herself. in perfect health? of course. of sound mind? debatable, but for the most part yes. alright? no, definitely not at the moment.

"yeah, yeah, i’m alright princess. just wanted to talk to you."

"aww, you're such a sweetie. how'd i get so lucky, huh?"

and yes, she does appreciate and silently adore the sweet sentiment. but the sound of you cooing at her with just the tiniest hint of a rasp in your voice from tiredness only cements her fate, having to use all of the rational energy she has left to stop whimpering.

"tell me how your trips been. wanna hear your voice for a little longer."

"no problem. well im fine, everyone here is good. besides my aunt nat, she's still moody because no one allowed her in the kitchen again-"

you go on about your family and their shenanigans, and she cant help but quietly laugh along when you giggle about some of the stories and memories you've made. but the 'conversation' takes a turn when you start to talk about her.

"you know i miss you, right?"

she feels a subtle pang in her chest, half longing and half desire. "oh yeah?"

"yeah. rolled over in bed this morning and kept trying to find you till i realized where i was. it's weird not waking up with you."

she hums, hoping you cant hear her stuttered breaths through the receiver. she doesn't know why hearing about you subconsciously looking for her embrace is what does it for her, but she can only give a short response as one of her hands trails down into boxers.

"wish i could've been there with you, baby."

"mmm, me too. missed your warmth, swear you're like my own personal heater. wish you could be here with me now."

her breathing stops and her eyebrows raise. "oh yeah?"

"yeah. missed your hands, too."

fuck, fuck fuck fuck. she's taken off guard, mind racing at your words and tone and before she knows it she has two fingers stuffed inside of herself while she quietly whimpers for you to keep talking to her.

"fuck, just a little more baby, please, 'm so close-"

"aww, you're such a good girl for me, aren't you violet?"

she swears she bites her lip so hard it nearly bleeds when she cums, walls clenching around her fingers and eyes rolling back into her head as she reaches her peak while you talk her through it.

the next week when she picks you up from the airport she can see it, a glimmer in your eye and quick in your smile that wasn't there before. she tries to ignore it when she pulls you in for a long-awaited embrace but then she just gets so enveloped in your warmth, your smell, the feeling of your body pressed hers. she's only yanked out of her lovestruck stupor when you whisper a sly little comment in her ear about how long and tight she's been holding you.

"call me crazy but if i didnt know any better i'd say you're feeling a little desperate for me."

so the cats out of the bag. she's super attached to you, so what? it's not like you ever complained about it, instead constantly using her neediness to your advantage to get what you want from her. you'll likely never have to beg and convince her to get up from bed to change the thermostat again, only needing to graze your hand across her chest and press a lingering kiss to the space beneath her chin before she's leaping out of bed and speedwalking down the hall.

and don't even get her started on her libido. the both of you had an amazing sex life already, able to almost instinctually tell what brought the other the most mindblowing pleasure possible. but ever since that night, it's like her desire for you only increased tenfold, barely able to go a day without getting her hands on you or vice versa.

it only reached a head when you decided to truly test her limits.

she had taken up a later shift to help out loris who had a date, which meant by the time she returned home she was too tuckered out to have her way with you. but during times like these, she could always count on the early morning sun waking her up just in the rich window of time for morning sex. but when the light rays peek through her bedroom window and she uses her arm to pull you closer she finds you absent, your side of the bed cold.

after a brief search through the house, she opened her text messages just to find your sent a sweet text only an hour before she’d woken up to tell her your friends had invited you on a last minute girls day around the city the night before, and you didn’t want to wake her from her sleep since she seemed exhausted when she got home.

vi groans and falls back into the pillows, lousily texting you back a short message to tell you she loves you and hopes you have fun with your friends. she’ll be alright, she can go a few more hours without you near.

but only an hour later after she’s showered and eaten a quick breakfast she feels the ache start to build in her chest, eyes darting up to the clock on the wall and groaning when realizes just how long this day is going to feel.

everything she tries to do to keep her mind off of you fails miserably. doing chores? she's thinking back on the time when the both of you first split up household duties when you moved in together, feeling giddy at sharing something so menial with the girl she was enamored with. making herself a protein shake for the gym? now she's stuck in a daydream about all the times you've been in this kitchen together, sharing sweet baked goods and sweeter kisses as you settle into domestic bliss.

she has got to get out of the house.

jayce understood her problem as soon as she called inviting her down to the gym for a few hours to work off any ‘pent-up energy’ she’s currently... unable to get out in her preferred method.

it works for a while, the familiar smell of sweat and the slight ache in her muscles grounding her back into reality as she makes casual gym talk with jayce. she's just starting to feel like the absence of you is off of her mind when she hears your text notification on her phone, accidentally leaving her place as jayces spotter to open up her phone.

as soon as her brain registers that you’ve sent her pictures she makes up some lame excuse to get to the bathroom, tuning out her friend's groan of disapproval as she speed walks to the restrooms and locks herself in one of the stalls.

the first few messages are sweet, little selfies of you and your friends as you enjoy your day together as you get some sweet treats together at one of the malls concession stands. a lovesick smile involuntarily grows on her face, always happy to see you smiling and enjoying yourself with the people who care about you. but her eyes start to squint when you start to send pictures of you trying on various outfits from some of the outlet stores, posing demurely in front of the trying room mirrors.

but then her eyes widen to the size of dinner plates when suddenly shes getting photos of you in her vagina's favorite enemy - lingerie.

even before vi started acting so eager about your body, it wasn't hard for you to catch on to the fact that the woman was so clearly an ass girl. even on five hands, you wouldn't be able to count the number of times you’d caught her staring or sneaking small glances at your behind, not to mention how she thought she was being discreet about her affection for it with the numerous times she’d slap it when walking by you. she tried to laugh it off when you brought it up in conversation, assuring you that she loved each and every part of you and could never pick a favorite.

but now you were determined to really see how much she wanted you, using every dirty trick in the book you could think of. she feels her face get hot as she looks down at her phone, the image of you in lacy lingerie, back facing the mirror as the magenta fabric (nearly the same shade as her hair, jesus christ,) stretches across the swell of your ass and crisis crosses across your back.

her brain short circuits. before she can think about it she’s saving the pictures to her phone and calling you at the speed of light.

“hey, violet. how’s your day?”

“you are so… evil. amazing and beautiful and evil.”

your giggle rings through the receiver, melodic and teasing. “what's the problem? you don't like the set?”

“don’t even joke. when are you getting home?”

“mmm not till late, the girls wanted to go to a club tonight.”

“oh you’ve got to be kidding me-”

“do you want me to send you the address?”

vi hasn't been to a nightclub in months, at first harshly avoiding the hard party scene in favor of her sobriety before feeling no need to indulge in the party scene once her life became more stable, especially after she met you. but she never stopped you from going out and having fun with your friends, tagging along once in a blue moon to sip on a mocktail while she chatted up the bartender and stared at your ass while you danced.

tonight was an extremely necessary blue moon.

the air is hot, and the feel of her drink burns her throat as vi waits at the bar, blue eyes wide and aware as she stares at the club’s crowded entrance like it owes her money. the bartender asks if she’s alright, scared she’s waiting for someone to arrive to jump them before she assures them she’s fine. they slowly nod and get back to making drinks, nearly dropping a glass out of fright when she slams her glass on the bar and quickly makes her way over to you.

if she wasn't so laser-focused on finally getting her hands on you she might've been a little cocky at the fact that you look like you were about to salivate at the sight of her, knowing she made the right decision to wear the tight pants she knew you loved on her. in only a second she’s got her hands settled on your waist, not caring that your friends are laughing at her clear excitement over seeing you in your club outfit, a tiny dress so she can see the wide expanse of your legs, your arms, your shoulder - fuck, the straps of the pink bra aren’t even hidden by the strapless dress-

“wanna dance with me?” your voice is nothing short of flirtatious, and you already know your answer by the way you start to walk past her to the dance floor, already predicting how she follows you like she’s on a leash.

as the both of you grind and dance in the middle of the club every thought racing through vi’s head is centered on you, physically and mentally unable to focus on anything else when she finally has you so close again after what felt like years. she feels a familiar sense of euphoria when her palms glide up and down your waist, smirking to herself when she feels you shudder when her hands reach up to cup and discreetly squeeze your breasts. she’s feeling happy about finally starting to turn the tables back on you before you arch your back into her, your ass pressing into her as your hand reaches up to her head, nails dusting along her cheek before reaching into her hair and pulling.

it’s only to be expected that that’s her breaking point, dragging you through the dancing bodies and into the back of the building until she can find anywhere to get you alone, thanking any god that exists above that she finds an open storage closet and drags you inside, pressing you face first towards the door. a little voice in her head reminds her not to be too rough with you, but it’s quickly silenced when she sees just how much you crave it, how your back is yet again arching and your hands are clenching into fists from their places on the wooden door.

it's nice, to remember that you want her as much as she wants you.

in only a few seconds she’s given into it, pressing you further into the door by pressing her body against yours and grinding her crotch into the fat of your ass, eyes lidded and head dropping to rest on your shoulder from the rush of pleasure she feels below.

“vi, oh my god-” your voice is light and airy, every word almost choked out as you struggle to prevent yourself from moaning out and alerting every person in the bar about what the two of you were up to.

“i know, fuck, I know, baby. i just-” she cuts herself off with a groan when she lets her hand travel down your front and under your dress to your panties, face running hot when she feels just how wet you’ve gotten. she’s all but rushing to ruche up your dress, mind going fuzzy yet again at seeing the pink fabric covering your ass and how it feels under her when she begins humping you yet again.

“nngh, knew it. knew you were an ass girl.” you giggle.

“god, please stop talking-”

whatever snarky little comment you were going to make dies in your throat when her arm comes up and around your neck to hold your jaw, turning your head around and smashing her lips onto yours. you whimper and moan into her mouth, violet greedily eating the noises of your pleasure as she takes you up against the door.

you pull back for a few seconds to catch your breath, both of your eyes drifting to the thin trail of saliva connecting your lips together.

she can feel it, then. an almost electric charge that runs form her body into yours. you lean into her touch, arch into her further like you’re trying ot merge your bodies into one. when her other hand tightens around the pushed-up fabric of your dress and she gets that absolutely adorable scrunch between her eyebrows you know what she’s asking, and you gently nod your head.

and so she presses her lips back to yours, her crotch further into your ass, and rides you in the cramped nightclub storage closet. she's grateful that you seem to be enjoying it just as much as she is, her mind completely focused on getting closer and closer to her peak. she can feel it building quickly, a growing heat below her stomach reach to burst at any moment. all it takes is you, sucking on her tongue before mumbling muffled words into her mouth begging for her to finish against you. she cums with a stifled moan into your mouth, only amplified when she feels you shudder and go loose in the legs beneath her.

you’re both panting, sweaty, and tired as you stare at each other. it’s a comfortable silence as you help each other adjust - vi fixing your dress and you attempting to put her hair back in her signature style.

“so,” your voice lilts up as vi’s busy fixing her jacket, debating if she wants to take it off to cool down or not, knwoing she’ll probably just wrap it around your arms outside anyway. “you gonna admit it yet?”

she rolls her eyes, looking at you with an exasperated but fond look in her eyes that makes your stomach flip. “you just love being proven right, don’t you?”

“absolutely.”

“fine, you were right. are you happy?”

“very. now, let’s go home annnd maybe,” your fingers hook into the loops of her pants and tug her closer,”you can show me a little more just how much you need me, yeah?”

maybe, vi would show her neediness for you more often. just a little.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

You mentioned how ace's dream was like a vague fanfiction addressing some fun fandom theories and ideas but I think whats the best part about it was how the progression up to that point made sense. Theyve dropped so many moments showing ace caring dearly for yuu to the point where this dream as fanservicey like that it was it feels natural for ace to have such a dream if that makes sense WAAGH I LOVE HIM SO MUCH

What did you think of the dream though ms raven? The dream made me wail so badly ough hes finally cried too m sure hes been through a lot 🥹 seeing cater talk to ace so sincerly it hits me so hard in the feels im so glad hes finally got to cry (a little anyways)

Ace’s dream felt like fanfiction, but at least it felt natural or like everything up to this point was leading up to this being his wish. I unfortunately cannot say that for several other dreams. Certainly ones definitely felt egregious or contrived. Some were largely fanservice (Savanaclaw Rook, dorm leader Cater, delinquent Deuce) or just excuses to make new cards (merform twins), even if it didn’t make complete sense for the character to wish for it.

dgjswvizjsowk I know you’re probably expecting me to comment on Ace in his own darn dream, but I actually have a lot more to say about Cater. Ace’s motivations + butting heads with the rescue squad were what I expected them to be (though I give him props for being the only character so far to resist waking up right away). More on my precursory thoughts in this post (but based the exact wording of your ask. I’d be tired to guess you’ve already read it 😅)! But CATER????? TELL ME WHY HE WAS THE GOAT THIS UPDATE 😭

Cater does SO much???? First he suggests the third years help Trey cook BBQ so the darkness is distracted while the others can isolate Ace and try to wake him. When that attempt fails, Cater pretends to agree with Leona’s proposal to leave Ace behind to bait Deuce to come after him to play as his support. Cater sitting down to have a heart-to-heart convo with Ace??? And then mercilessly using his UM to gang up on Ace and beat him up??? 😭 Him reminding Ace about his courage facing off against OB Riddle… Cater confessing he wanted to run, but being encouraged to join the fight because aaaaah his kouhai looked so cool and dashing!! Thanking Ace??? Finally verbalizing some of his feelings???!?!?!?!???! CATER PULLING ACE OUT OF THE DARK????? MY GOD… OTL ThE biG BRoTHER EnERGGY WaS SO DTRONgGGGGGggGGGGG

And he kept this up even into Trey’s dream???????? Where Cater once again does a TON. He volunteers to investigate since makes the most sense (he is a Heartslabyul student so it’s not shady to be in the dorm and his UM is useful for combat). Cater also the third years with him into the kitchen to have a look around. Him saying he’s impressed with Silver’s will and how he would’ve given up so much sooner if he were him???? Dropping interesting lore about Trey??? Cater admitting that he has always been a spectator and now realizes he should have done more than just watch events unfold???

CATER CONSISTeNTLY puTTING hIMSELF AnD THE THirD YEARS IN hARm’s WAy FiRST… StRAtEGIzING… mAnIPULATING… AND ACTUAL SELF-REFLECTION AnD SINCERiTY????

Cater got to shine SO much this update, especially in Ace’s dream. He really came off like a big brother figure to Ace. A little mean, but also able to be so very vulnerable with him. Him not wanting to give up on Ace even though he later says if he were Silver, he’d have given up on everyone a while ago… MAN. CaTER cARES SO muCHHHHHhhh 😭 This might actually bump him up a little in my tier list… I didn’t like him much before 💦

[muhlsworld]

WHATS WRONG WITH ME?

synopsis: you rescue nika from a bad date.

WARNINGS: suggestive (no actual smut), cussing, talks about sex, not proofread

it was a relaxing evening in seattle. you were getting ready to watch one of your favorite movies when your best friend nika sends you a text saying ‘911’. instead of answering the text you called her. “hey is everything okay?” you asked the second she picked up the phone. “yeah i’m on my way, don’t worry i’ll be there soon.” nika said quickly and then hanging up. you were so confused until you got a second text from her.

‘bad date. had to leave. omw to yours’

then it all made sense. you simply liked her message waiting for her to show up. a few minutes later you heard the door open. knowing it was nika since she had your spare key. “in the living room.” you shouted so she could go towards you. she walked in the living room looking as beautiful as ever. wearing that black leather set that you helped pick out.

“omg im so sorry for barging in but i just had the worst date ever.” nika said with her head in her hands. “wanna tell me about it?” you asked trying to be as supportive as you could. “the date itself wasn’t that bad you know? he was cute and respectful. but after the dinner we went back to his place.” she said stopping slightly and you nodded understanding what she was referring to.

waiting for her to continue you placed a comforting hand on her thigh. “it was going good too, we were making out and it wasn’t the worst but as i went to sit on his lap i felt nothing. like actually nothing” she said almost embarrassed. “so he wasn’t hard yet right?” you asked slightly uncomfortable with the conversation. “see that’s what i thought too so we kept going but he just wouldn’t get hard. like we literally couldn’t even do anything.” she stated frustrated.

you look at her in shock with what she was telling you. you honestly didn’t know what to tell her to make her feel better. so you opted for slightly rubbing her thigh to make her feel comforted. then she spoke up again “is there something wrong with me?” nika asked. “what the hell? no what are you talking about?” you asked confused at the question. “am i not hot enough?” she asked sheepishly.

you looked at her like she was insane. she was the most beautiful woman you’ve set your eyes on. she was literally a goddess in your eyes. “what nika? why would you say that?” you asked. “i don’t know it’s just…” she paused for a little “do you think i’m hot?” nika asked. before your brain could stop you from speaking you blurted out “of course i do”. your eyes went wide are your confession.

you slapped your hand on your forehead from the embarrassment. but what you didn’t see was nikas smirk. “you think i’m hot?” she asked almost seductively. you nodded hesitantly. the tension in the room growing thicker and thicker. “so you wouldn’t mind helping me out right?” she asked. you shook your head and then said “what do you need help with?”

“let me kiss you.” nike said bluntly. you mouth dropped slightly at the statement. “help me prove to myself that i can make someone horny. help me make sure there’s nothing wrong with me.” she practically begged. your mouth went dry at those words. without waiting any longer you answered.

“okay.”

and with that confirmation nika turned to face towards you on the couch and leaned in slightly so your lips touched. it was a quick peck at first. and then once she saw you were okay with it she pulled you onto her lap. each one of your legs on either side of hers. nikas hands were planted on your waist as your hands went around her neck.

once you were settled in her lap, she captured your lips in yet another kiss. but this time it was hungrier. one of her wants move slowly up your back until she reached your head. so she grabbed a fistful of your hair as she tugged a little. you opened your mouth slightly at the sensation and nika took the initiative to slide her tongue in your mouth.

you moaned as she inserted her tongue into your mouth. nika took that as a sign that she was doing good. so with that she placed her hand back down on your waist firmly. your heart was practically beating out of your chest. you felt like everything was on fire. but you knew nika was only doing this to prove something to herself. so you let her.

after making out for a few minutes she started to place kisses down your jawline and up to your earlobe. she tugged at your earlobe with her teeth and you let out a sigh of satisfaction. she started to kiss down you neck sucking slightly at certain spots. and that’s when your body betrayed you.

you started to slowly grind down on nikas legs begging for some friction. nika was happy with what she was doing to you and she was showing it by grabbing you waist harsher and guiding your hips down into her.

this went on for a few minutes until you couldn’t take it anymore. you wanted more. you needed more. and nika did too. nika started to slide her hand down to your thighs slightly massaging your thigh, inching herself closer to where you wanted her most. but before she did she looked up at you. “are you sure?” she asked. “there’s no going back after this.” she stated. you nodded slowly getting of her lap and leading her your bedroom.

the night consisted of pure pleasure between the two of you. and you couldn’t have been more happy that nikas date ended the way it did.

A/N: please give me requests 🙏

[makismei]

cw: car accident mention, anxiety, minor signs of ptsd, comfort

“honey, go to sleep.” kento mumbles, sleep drunk eyes barely opening.

he can see your exhaustion through the light of your phone, but he stirs awake at the sight of you looking absolutely distraught.

“i’m sorry, kento,” you whisper, “i can’t. i’m trying but i really can’t.”

you put your phone down, reaching for his hand— seeking comfort. he gives it to you, always, no questions needed.

“when i close my eyes it feels like im in the car again.” you whisper, voice trembling. “im scared.”

you recall the car accident from a few days ago. a hit and run. you didn’t know what to do. you don’t care that they can’t find the other driver, but you’re absolutely horrified at the thought of being behind the wheel.

“oh honey,” he coos, “you don’t have to apologize for that.” he opens his arms for you to crawl into. soothingly, his warm hand runs up and down your back, “i’m sorry. i wish i could’ve been there and i’m also sorry for neglecting you when you’re feeling this way.”

you wrap your arms around him, burying your face into his chest. “it’s not your fault, ken. it’s my brain’s fault.”

you feel your chest getting tight. you remind yourself you’re at home, that you are safe.

immediately, he notes the change in your behaviour. “hey,” he whispers, “it’s okay. it’s normal to feel the way you do— a car accident isn’t a minor incident, my love.”

“it’s following me, ken.” you whimper, “i have these— these dreams and i feel nauseous when i think about the intersection.”

he ponders. only for a moment. he wishes it was him in that accident instead. seeing you this way is making him tear up, he feels guilty at the fact he can’t take away all your pain this instant, but he knows this isn’t about him, it’s about you.

“i’m here for you, my love. you never have to go through these feelings alone.” he reminds you, kissing your forehead. “next time, when you’re feeling this way; wake me up. if i’m working, give me a call— you know i will always pick up.”

kento holds you just a bit tighter, resting his chin atop your head. “you’re always safe with me. you are my priority. would you like to talk about how you’re feeling?”

for a moment, you feel a little bit lighter. your chest still feels tight, but there’s comfort in not being alone. “i don’t know how to put it into words— can you just… can you tell me a story or something? anything? i just.. i don’t want to think about it right now.”

“that’s fair. but we’ll have to revisit this tomorrow, honey.” he whispers, “i’m worried.”

“i know. im sorry.”

“don’t apologize. never apologize for something like this.” closing his eyes, he breathes in your scent, “my life isn’t very eventful nowadays, my dear. but i had this friend back in high school…”

[writing-mlm]

hi !! saw you write for criminal minds and would love to see something with spencer reid !! there aren’t enough male reader fics for him out there. personally i’m a sucker for reader being used as bait for an unsub with spencer getting jealous and taking care of reader afterwards if they get hurt. but no worries if you don’t want to write that specific scenario, i would just love to see any spencer content at all lol. i love your writing and hope you’re having a great day !!!

The stress of a married man

Summary: Spencer doesn’t like the fact that his husband is out there; his husband doesn’t like the fact that Spencer’s worrying. Pairing: Post-prison!Spencer Reid x Male!Reader wc: 2.4k Tags/warnings: reader used as bait, blood, attempted drugging, kidnapping a/n: while what im referring to won’t be a part 2, just now I wrote 2 separate fics for this request. i’ll try and push it out before next week and it’ll be around 20k words… and a marvel crossover…

Spencer didn’t want this. It’s stupid. It’s beyond stupid, it’s dangerous. He doesn’t care that there’s logic behind it— why should he? Not when you’re putting yourself in danger just to speed up a case, not when there are other solutions. 

He twists the cap of the marker as he strains, trying to think of said solutions. None are coming to his head; none that are useful anyway. He gnaws at the inside of his cheek when his eyes dart over to you; sitting in a chair getting your appearance tweaked to fit the victim pool more. A fake mole under your eye, changing your eyebrows a little bit. You’re wearing clothes they’d found in a nearby Ross, stuff that he knows you’re itchy in because they haven’t been washed yet. 

Your feet are pushed into shoes a size too small, he can tell because you’re sitting without putting pressure on them and they’re laced too loose. If you run with them they’ll go flying. Maybe that’s for the better, he quickly decides. 

He doesn’t see the irony in his worry. The same Spencer who walked into a train and took off his bulletproof vest when the UnSub had a loaded gun? The same Spencer who made Hotch kick the snot out of him? Caught himself on fire and in the middle of an explosion? Stab himself and frame the other guy in prison— that Spencer Reid? Yes. Because he’s him and you’re you. 

First name Spencer, middle name Risk himself for everyone else, last name Reid didn’t want you to hurt. He didn’t want you tossed in the back of some guy's van and hauled to wherever. He didn’t want you to experience the torture the other victims are going through firsthand. He just didn’t. 

But you’re smiling with Tara, agreeing to let Luke slip a tracker into the thrifted bracelet you planned on keeping because it looked nice. You’re listening to Emily’s specific instructions carefully, you’re understanding the dangers that you’re about to face. 

And dammit you’re still agreeing to go through with it. 

“Be careful,” He’s almost pleading— no, he is pleading. He absolutely cannot keep himself composed like the others are. He can’t. 

“I’ll be alive,” You tell him, messing with the clunky jacket that fits the same way a child wearing their dad's jacket fits. Lightly, you punch his shoulder. “Don’t go worrying about me; this is my specialty, Walter.” He nods, tucking his hair behind his ear because yes, it is. You had transferred from the Hostage Rescue Team after getting your degree. 

He doesn’t even care that you’re using his middle name. He doesn’t catch it, in fact. He just caught that you said you’d be alive when he asked you to be careful. 

“Just…” He closes his eyes, opening them when he pictures the worst. You’re staring at him from behind a paper cup of water, eyebrows raised because you’ve never seen him so worked up. So nervous before; it’s stressing you out. 

“I’ll come back, man. Don’t sweat it, please. You’re making me nervous,” Shit, he blinks an apology and wrings his hands. He doesn’t want to throw you off your game any more than he already has and backs off. 

You watch as he walks away, heading back to his drawing board. He messes with the marker cap again, this time chewing on it. It’s a set he’d gotten that day, only used by him, so he’s not worried about germs or anything of the sort. Meanwhile, you move over to JJ to go over the plan seeing as she’s going to be the bartender. 

The plan is simple. You’re going to hang out at a local bar, the one flying the highest American flag and that has some stupidly adorable couple trivia night going on but you aren’t going to play. You’re going to sit at the bar, rolling your eyes when someone gets an answer wrong because it was so obvious even a moron could get it right. You’re going to nurse a stein of sparkling apple juice dyed to look like beer. And you’re going to get the attention of the man killing people. 

Currently, you’re still on the eye-rolling part. The questions are hard, you have no idea what the fuck they’re talking about but you can hear Spencer through your earpiece saying the answers without catching himself. 

A guy approaches you as you’re taking another sip of your drink. A white man, probably in his fifties to sixties, dressed as if he was a professor, and on the shorter side. So far, this is the guy. You smile as he takes the newly vacant seat next to you, his eyes immediately traveling to the jacket around your chair. 

“Can you believe they don’t know the fifty-six element?” He huffs after no one has gotten the answer right and the announcer presses the loud buzzer. 

“Barium,” Spencer immediately tells you. 

“I know,” You scoff. “Who doesn’t know what barium is?” The man looks delighted by your answer and orders a beer. He doesn’t care what brand, just says beer and drums his fingers on the wood until JJ brings him one. He thanks her without any condensation, no sweetheart, or even a lingering look. He says a simple thank you, miss. And hands JJ a crisp ten-dollar bill. 

“The youth these days,” He shakes his head as half of the trivia goers don’t get the answer to who made the laws of motion right. “They’re spending too much time learning nonessential things like provocative dancing and texting abbreviations.”

“You’re so right, sir,” You sigh. “I’m glad my grandparents raised me better.”

“Oh, please,” He laughs, holding his chest. “Call me Vince. I’m sorry for forgetting my manners.” 

“It’s quite fine,” You smile. “I’m Kyle.”

“Well, Kyle,” He smiles back. This is the part where he’ll have you look away and he’ll slip something into your drink. You’ll look back and he’ll cheer for something. It’ll be strong based on the videos, you’ll be stumbling within three minutes. But even before that, he’ll talk you into leaving the bar so no one can notice. “Whaddya say about a game of pool?” He points to the pool table behind you. 

You look, spotting Luke and Emily pretending to pay attention to a group of frat guys playing a game. Spencer tells you that he’s slipped the pill inside and you turn back to Vince. 

“It seems crowded,” You shake your head. 

“Well, cheers to two smart guys left in a modern age of idiots?” He holds up his beer and you laugh, nodding with your bottle. The drinks and you pretend to drink it. You feel it on your upper lip, it’s fizzy and you swallow your spit to make it seem real. He watches until you set it down and runs his fingers over your ear. 

“How about some fresh air?” Pretending to be bashful, you get up and follow him out. He’s not aware that Luke and Emily follow, too. 

Spencer watches from the van's cameras as you walk out of the bar. Vince has his hand on your waist and he’s talking about things so well it’s almost convincing. But he’s saying surface-level facts as if he’s only read the summary but not the full text. He doesn’t like how Vince speaks into your neck and how his eyes seem to gleam when you start to pretend to stumble. 

You prepare yourself as you hear the red car. Because once you do, he charges you into the side and it’s enough to send someone who’d been drugged to the ground. So, you lay next to the car, pretending to fall in and out as he opens the trunk. You hear the duck tape being pulled and he steps back into your view. 

“All you youth are still driven by lust,” He says, holding your face and then applies enough to cover your mouth. He puts you on your stomach and your arms strain as he ties your hands behind you. Honestly, you’re glad he’s counting you as a youth. You know the youth surely doesn’t because boy, you’ve stopped getting carded at bars years ago. Your ankles are the next things he tapes before you’re tossed into the trunk. 

Your head hits a pipe and you groan as he slams the door closed. Rolling onto your side, you feel the car start and work on finding the knife in your pocket. The blade flicks up�� it had been pinned to your pants just for this— and you work on cutting your way out. He hadn’t done a lot of layers, just three so you’re out of it quick enough. 

His car stops, at a red light, because the car is still buzzing and he’s still listening to music that hasn’t been on the radio since there was a transatlantic accent. You take the time to rub your forehead before the car lurches forward. Working on the ankle tape, you hear the line between you and the others cut. You’ve officially entered the dead zone. They’ll track you using the bracelet from here on out. 

—

It’s nearly an hour before the car stops. It’s been twenty since Spencer joined Luke in the SUV. Being trailed by local PD and two ambulances with their lights off, he messes with the FBI windbreaker jacket folded on his lap. It’s yours, it’s tailored to your arms and the collar is worn from where you continued to flip it up and down. You’ll probably want it, it’s chilly out and only getting colder. 

He hopes you’re only cold because of the weather. 

“It’s up ahead,” Luke warns before he parks the car. They can’t risk the UnSub hearing the cars so they’ll have to walk the rest of the way. He nods, fixing his gun as they climb out. The others are close behind and separate. JJ and Rossi go left, Emily and Tara go right, while he and Luke go straight. 

The driveway, if you could call it that, to the barn, is nothing more than grass that’s been driven over so many times it doesn’t grow straight anymore. They’re sickly shades of green compared to the bright green elsewhere. He looks up, seeing the car you’d gotten tossed into, and adjusts his grip on his gun. His heart hammers, pleading that you’re okay. 

A barn comes into view, the lights are on and Spencer shudders. There’s the smell of pigs nearby that makes his stomach twist before he changes his focus. The doors are ajar— some blood is on the handle. He doesn’t touch it, but it’s wet. He sees the light reflecting on it. Luke gives him a look, holds up three fingers and Spencer nods. 

He gets to two before the door gets thrown open. 

They jump back but it’s only you. You’re standing tall, one hand on the doorframe and the other gripping your pocket knife. His shoulders sag at the sight of you alive and able to stand before he looks at your face.

“You’re bleeding,” Spencer immediately has you in his grip, wiping the blood from your nose and lip with his shirt. It’s a lot, but considering it’s a nosebleed that’s to be expected. 

“Got dropped on my face,” You explain through a wince. “The others are in the barn— they need medical. I patched their wounds as best I could with whatever was lying around,” Luke nods and radios for the ambulance to make their way up. 

“And Vince?” Luke looks inside the barn and whistles. “Shouldn’t have been worried, then.” He knocks your shoulder with his fist and you wink.

“Yeah, he really wasn’t strong. He dropped me twice, once on my face and then on my back. I think my head hit a rock—“ Again, Spencer’s hands are on you as he checks the back of your head. Luke chuckles and you roll your eyes, messing with your wedding band tattoo. “I kicked the shit out of his face and then hogtied him.” You wait for a beat before looking over at Spencer. “No hogtie facts?”

“You have a shallow cut on your head, it’ll leave a small scar.” He says instead and opens up the jacket. “You should sit, we can deal with the others.” He drapes it over you and you smile, rubbing his matching tattoo. 

“Okay,” He smiles and watches as you walk to sit on a log before heading inside with Luke. He looks at the man still tied up and then looks at the knife in his hand before walking closer. The man is wriggling and trying to speak, both of which he makes a point to ignore. 

He saws at the tape before it lets go and quickly handcuffs Vince, ripping the tape off his mouth as hard and fast as he could manage with his shaking hands. Vince starts speaking but Spencer simply lugs him up from the ground in one fluid motion.

“Shut up.” He walks Vince out and tosses him over to the local PD before he finds you again. You’re helping the lady of the victims into the ambulance, setting the thick wool blanket over his shoulders. 

“I told you to sit down,” He sighs and you spin around, hands up to show you weren’t doing anything. “Baby, you’re injured, please.” He grabs your hands and kisses your neck, hoping it’ll sway you.

“EMT said it's surface level and just a little bleed, nothing to fuss about.” He ignores the first part as he steals a kit from the ambulance, checking the inside to make sure he has what he needs.

“I’m fussing,” He beckons you over with two fingers and you huff, following him to the SUV where he sets you in the passenger seat. You watch, head on the seat as he carefully puts the items on the dashboard and cleans his hand with wipes. 

“It’s cute that you’re worried,” You smile, eyes flickering between him putting on a pair of gloves and his face. “Maybe now you’ll stop being so reckless during cases.” Leaning over, you kiss his cheek but he moves back in for a kiss on the lips.

“I don’t know about that,” He smiles and gently holds your chin. “Let me know if it hurts too much, okay?” You roll your eyes but he doesn’t move so you sigh. 

“Yes, doctor,”

[whimsicalpolitical]

wait im going crazy i need a ross smut when he's drunk after some big party like a wedding or smth like that, and he's all cute and cuddly but also horny for you and wants to marry you but also fuck you thank you that's all

okay okayy, combining this with the first ever subby!ross of me

you’re seated outside at a long wooden table with matty, george, and ross. the three of them are in the middle of one of their usual arguments, but ross is far drunker than usual, his deep, rumbling laugh getting louder and louder with every word matty says. it’s the kind of laugh that makes everyone else laugh, too, infectious and warm, even if you don’t know what’s so funny.

“you’re talking shit, mate,” ross laughs, “that’s not how it went at all. i was there. i saw you knock him out.”

“bollocks!” matty shoots back, “you’re just trying to make me look bad. fucking dickhead started bitching about something.”

ross smirks at him but doesn’t bother replying, instead leaning into you even further until his forehead brushes against your shoulder. it’s sweet, the way he seems to gravitate toward you instinctively, his hand never once leaving your thigh. you glance at him out of the corner of your eye, your lips curling into a fond smile at the sight of his flushed cheeks and slightly unfocused gaze.

“you’re the worst drunk,” you murmur, glancing at him with an amused smile as matty throws his hands up in frustration, clearly losing the argument to an unbothered ross.

ross grins at you, his eyes heavy-lidded and glassy. “nah. best drunk. you love it.”

you roll your eyes, but you don’t deny it. you do love it, the way he gets clingy and affectionate, his inhibitions melting away until all that’s left is his unfiltered adoration for you.

after a while, you stand, leaning into ross’s ear to whisper, “i’m gonna use the bathroom real quick.”

ross’s head snaps up immediately, his arm tightening around you like he’s afraid to let you go. “alright then, let’s go.”

“ross,” you say, exasperated but laughing. “i’ll be back in two minutes.”

“definitely not,” he insists, already standing unsteadily. “i’m coming with you.”

before you can argue, he’s taking your hand, his fingers warm and slightly clammy as he laces them with yours. matty and george exchange knowing looks but say nothing, clearly enjoying the show.

“this place is fucking posh,” he mumbles as you approach the bathrooms, his eyes narrowing as he takes in the sleek, modern design. he stops dead in his tracks, peering at one of the doors like it’s offended him personally. “is that… is that only for one person?”

you bite back a laugh, nodding. “yeah, ross,“

he lets out an incredulous huff, shaking his head. “ridiculous. and it’s this big?”

“you’re drunk,” you say, grinning as you gently tug him toward the door. “wait here, alright? i’ll be two minutes.”

he grumbles something under his breath but doesn’t let go of your hand until you give him a pointed look. when you finally emerge, he’s leaning against the wall, his long frame looking entirely out of place in the too-fancy hallway. the moment he sees you, his face lights up, and he’s on you in an instant, his hands finding your waist as he presses a kiss to your forehead.

“missed you,” he mumbles, his lips trailing down to your temple.

“did you?” you laugh.

“mhm,” he hums, “loads.”

ross hastily pulls back and raises his eyebrows, pushing the bathroom door back open and trying to tug you inside.

“ross,” you laugh, your voice coming out in a breathless huff as he pinches your side gently, making you stumble backward into the bathroom. “what are you doing?”

“c’mere,” he murmurs, closing the door behind him as he steps closer, his hands firm on your hips.

you shake your head, smiling despite yourself. “ross, the program’s starting in fifteen minutes. we need to—”

“plenty of time,” he interrupts, his voice low and a little gravelly. “don’t you think?”

you narrow your eyes at him, suspicious. “plenty of time for what?”

he doesn’t answer, at least not with words. instead, he leans down, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that’s soft at first, almost tentative, before it deepens. his hands slide up your sides, pulling you closer until there’s no space left between you.

“ross,” you mumble against his lips, trying to sound stern but failing miserably. “we really—”

“shh,” he murmurs, one hand moving to cradle your face as he presses his forehead against yours. “just one more minute, yeah? let me have this.”

your resolve crumbles instantly, and you sigh, your hands sliding up to rest on his chest as you kiss him again. his lips are warm and a little rough, tasting faintly of whiskey and champagne, and it’s dizzying, the way he kisses you like he’s trying to memorize every detail.

when you finally pull back, his eyes are heavy-lidded, his lips curled into a lazy, satisfied smile.

“program,” you try reminding him again.

“darling,” he starts, “d’you want me to behave during the program?”

“obviously,” you roll your eyes playfully.

ross nods and slips out of his jacket to neatly hang it up one of the hooks on the wall.

you frown and watch as he rolls up his sleeves and tugs at his tie to losen it up.

“what are you doing- stop,” you try to stop his hand but he already removes it from his neck, “ross.”

“what?” he gives you his best puppy dog eyes and his stupid grin with his more stupid dimples, “don’t wanna make a mess, m’being very considerate.”

“of what?”

ross steps toward you, his expression soft but playful. he stops in front of you, tilting his head down slightly to meet your gaze. “f’ you,” he murmurs, sliding his hands to your waist.

before you can respond—or escape—he hooks his hands under your thighs with an ease that has you squeaking in protest, effortlessly lifting you off the ground.

“ross!” you whisper-shout, your hands clutching his shoulders instinctively as he carries you a few steps and sets you down on the edge of the sink.

“m’ gonna behave during, i promise. need you now though.”

ross begins to kiss your cheek as sweet as possible, then your jaw and then he’s already nipping at your neck and whispering pleas into your skin.

“can i eat you out, love?”

you would lie if you’d say you weren’t absolutely turned on by your boyfriend. you’re not used to him being so impatient and desperate. it’s always you. and he’s always being a tease about it, so why won’t you be?

“say please again, sounded so pretty.”

ross groans softly and pulls back to look at you.

“just want to make you feel good, darling. can i? please,” he whispers the last word and his hands are already sliding up your thighs to hitch up the fabric of your dress.

you stop his hands and raise your eyebrows to try to get more out of him.

ross knows you enjoy this, he’s just gonna go along and it’s not like he doesn’t want you to have the upper hand at some point. to just take what you want, what you need.

“pretty please, darling. i really need to have a taste, you look absolutely gorgeous in that dress and i’ll go mental if i can’t make you feel good in it.”

you feel hot listening to him and at this point you physically can’t deny him of anything.

“jesus- yes, alright.”

“thank you, darling,” he smiles and gives you a gentle and soft kiss to your lips.

his hand slides up your thigh further and reveals your new, black lace panties.

“fuck, these are new ones, aren’t they?” he observes and slides a finger under the waistband to feel the fabric.

you inhale sharply at the closeness to your wet cunt.

“yeah, wanted to surprise you tonight actually,” you smile, “early surprise then.”

“i love them,” he says, “they’re gorgeous.”

ross licks his lips and goes through his beard with his hands while thinking and then he already speaks again.

“lift your hips for me, please?”

you do so and he slides the fabric down your legs and over your heals.

“if they’re a present i’m gladly gonna take them.”

you giggle but then you feel a voracious shiver, not only because of the cold on your legs, but because you are so close and he is touching you so masterfully, letting his fingertips slide along the inside of your thigh, he can already feel the heat radiating off your skin as he trails lower, touching every part of your skin that he can reach.

“fuckin’ hell, so ready for me,” ross lifts his left arm to take a glance at the watch, “i’ll try to hurry, even though it breaks my heart.”

before you know it, he is already between your legs, hooking his hands under your thighs to spread your legs apart gently, nuzzling his nose along your inner thigh, inhaling your scent.

“can i ask you to do something?” he asks.

you nod and smile, “of course.”

“hold your dress,” he says while he takes your hand and puts it on top of the fabric, “don’t want to ruin it.”

your hand automatically grips the fabric and it’s a not so good replacement to his hair actually. you really can’t ruin his hair. it would take too long to fix it and you can’t waste time.

“can’t wait any longer,” he mumbles more to himself and then he looks up at you, the desire in his eyes mirroring yours as he presses a soft kiss right on your clit, making it throb in response.

his tongue dances slowly and deliberately along your folds, licking all the way up, savoring your taste as soft whimpers escaped your lips, his hands now on your inner thighs, keeping them spread wide for him to feast on you.

“fuck,” ross groans, “need you all the time. love you so much, s’my absolute favorite taste.”

he’s not lying. ross loves to spend his time on his knees. getting you off on his mouth or his fingers is as much pleasure for him as being inside of you.

“oh, fuck,” you whine.

ross’ tongue is warm and velvety as he pushes it through your slick folds. it’s killing you to not grip him and hold him there. you gasp as he continues to lap into you with a hunger and passion that leaves you trembling with need.

"mhm, love this, darling," he murmurs, his words sending a delicious thrill down your spine as he swirls his tongue around your swollen clit, his hands gripping your hips tightly.

you can't help but let out a cascade of moans and whimpers as he begins to move your hips in rhythm with his ministrations, making you gently grind against his face as he continues to worship you with his mouth.

“ross, y-you’re so good.”

“deserve it,” he mumbles while he continues to rock you against his face.

the sound of your moans echoing through the room only drives him further, his movements becoming more urgent as he brings you closer and closer to the edge. you cunt pulses with desire.

your head is spinning, the sensations overwhelming you.

“ross,” you whisper-moan again, needing more. anything.

ross hums into your cunt.

"feels so good..." you manage to say between the whimpers and moans. he swirls his tongue around your clit in slow circles, occasionally dipping it lower to tease your entrance with the tip of his tongue.

"more?" he asks with a muffled voice.

"y-yes," you answer.

his answer is his tongue delving inside you, stopping only when he moves his lips so he can suck your clit hard. your breathy and desperate moans only turn him on, his fingers almost penetrating your flesh to keep your legs spread wide as he eats you out relentlessly.

“thats it, feel good, love,” he moans against your flesh, his nose pressing on your clit as he devours you ravenously, lapping at your core and drinking you greedily. "s’ fucking perfect," he hisses, feeling his own desire throbbing between his legs as he works you higher and higher

“baby, fuck”, you moan, “m’ so close, so-“

ross moves more eager now, his only mission to make you feel good. to cloud your mind the rest of the evening so you’ll be even more pent up later.

“need you, love. need it,” he groans.

the coil in your stomach tightens, and you can already feel the familiar sweet, honeyed sensation fill you up. warmth moving through your nerves and seeping deep into your bones. your eyes are already closed, eyes sightlessly moving around beneath your lids.

ross can't resist anymore, reaching a hand down to his pants, rubbing himself through the material. you see his movements, but can't bring yourself to stop him when his eyes flutter shut in pleasure.

“good?” you ask, smiling at him.

ross slowly opens his eyes to you looking down at him with a small smile. he returns it and leads his hand to your cunt in front of him.

“sorry,” he says, “all yours again.”

he slowly enters two of his fingers and draws a loud moan out of you which you have to stop by biting your lip.

“close,” you whine again.

his fingers move deeper, motions precise. the pads of his fingers nudge that soft spot deep in your cervix, and your legs are clamping closed, only held open by his bobbing head.

"ross,” you moan, "oh god, fuck- ross, honey, please," soft words bubble from your lips, your brain too pleasure-frazzled to form any other, more coherent requests.

ross’ fingers continue their movements, his tongue moves up and down your cunt.

the coil snaps. his tongue plunges deep inside you, tasting along the spongy walls of your cunt.

all it takes is one simple movement from ross.

his thumb circles your clit once, twice, his nose nudges your clit closer to his thumb - and you're suppressing all your moans.

"ross," you cry out as your back arches off the marble ground completely. your hips still held down by ross’ strong arms intertwined around them, holding you hostage to his pleasure.

“thank you,” he mumbles, “fuck.”

as every alarm in your fried brain goes off, telling you to stop the stimulation before you go insane, your hips yet continue to move, jerky circles following ross’ still ongoing torment.

and ross doesn't deprive you of any pleasure - his tongue still rapidly laps at your juices. the movements of his thumb on your clit are gentle, however. slow, deliberate and soft circles.

“stop,” you push his shoulder away, “too much, ross. no time,” you manage to breathe out.

with a quiet groan ross moves away, his beard glistening in the expensive light.

he licks his tongue over his lips and smiles up at your dreamy state.

“thank you, love. think i’m sober now actually.”

your breath is heavily moving up and down while you try to collect yourself.

“okay- jesus,” you begin to ramble, “we need to fix ourselves up.”

you shift, smoothing your dress back into place, but his hands tighten for just a second before he loosens them. “taste yourself,” he says quietly, his voice low and rough, and then he’s leaning forward before you can respond, kissing you.

it’s slow at first, his lips soft and coaxing, but then he slips his tongue past yours, and you let out the smallest whine against him. ross hums into the kiss, his hand sliding up to the curve of your hip, and you feel him shift—his hips pressing forward, his belt buckle clicking faintly against the sink.

you pull back with a breathless laugh, your forehead brushing his. “next hour’s gonna be torture for you.”

ross exhales sharply, shaking his head like he’s trying to collect himself, but his lips twitch in a faint, boyish grin. “yeah, no shit.”

you hop off the counter, smoothing your dress as you glance at him over your shoulder. “come on,” you say, grabbing his tie, “let’s make you look presentable again.”

his hands fall to his sides, and he lets you tug him closer, his eyes locked on yours the whole time. as you tie the knot, he smirks faintly, his voice low. “i think i’m perfectly fine the way i am.”

you shoot him a look, one brow raised. “not exactly appropriate for company,” you mutter, tightening the tie and brushing it flat against his chest.

“appropriate’s boring.”

you sigh dramatically but can’t hold back the small smile tugging at your lips. “you’re impossible,” you mutter, reaching for his jacket.

he slips into it, his movements slow, and you can feel his gaze on you as you fix his lapels. his voice softens as he says, “you’re gorgeous, you know that?”

“you’ve been telling me quite often today, yes.”

ross just shrugs, his grin turning a bit more smug as he leans against the counter, watching you grab a few paper towels. when you step closer, tilting his chin up to wipe at his beard, his hands find your waist again, a lazy, possessive touch.

“you really do need to behave now,” you say firmly, tossing the paper towels into the bin, giving him a pointed look.

“will i get a reward if i do, then?”

you smirk, stepping closer, your hands brushing over his jacket. “depends how well you behave,” you murmur, your lips ghosting over the shell of his ear, “but let’s just say… anything you want.”

his pupils dilate, his hands tightening on your waist for a split second, but then he inhales sharply, blinking like he’s trying to snap himself out of it. he lets out a low chuckle, pushing off the counter and straightening his jacket.

“right,” he mutters, giving you one last, lingering look before he strides toward the door, his steps steady despite the tension still written in his shoulders. “hurry, love. programs starting, i think.”

-

the program's underway, and ross hasn’t let up. his hand finds a home on your thigh under the tablecloth, thumb absentmindedly stroking over your skin in slow circles. every few minutes, you feel his fingers squeeze, firm and needy, like he can’t quite help himself.

he's drinking more, too. each time his glass gets refilled, ross tips it back a little quicker, his already-flushed cheeks deepening in color, the booze only amplifying his shamelessness. it’s subtle at first—the way he shifts in his chair, one leg bouncing restlessly. but soon, he’s adjusting himself blatantly, pulling at the fabric of his trousers like it’s unbearable, like it’s all too much.

“you alright there, ross?” you whisper with a smirk, though you already know the answer.

he lets out a strained laugh, leaning in close enough that you feel the heat of his breath against your ear. “can’t anymore, love,” he murmurs, voice low and wrecked. “hurts.”

you snort, biting back a laugh as you shake your head at him. “it’s your own fault,” you shoot back.

ross groans softly, resting his forehead against your shoulder for a moment. “well, you’re hot, love,” he mumbles like it’s the most obvious excuse in the world, his lips brushing against the bare skin of your collarbone as he speaks.

your stomach flips, but you play it cool, nudging him gently with your elbow. “behave,” you warn, though there’s no real heat behind it.

he doesn’t answer, just sits back in his chair, head tipped slightly to the side as he watches you. it’s almost enough to distract you from the speeches happening at the front of the room.

a sudden burst of laughter from the crowd makes you jump slightly, snapping you out of it. ross uses the distraction to lean in again, his fingers pressing harder into your thigh this time.

“d’you want me to beg again? s’that gonna help me in any way?” he asks.

“i’m afraid not. i’ll remember this though, you being this nice and desperate for me.” he still looks at you like a lost puppy, “later, ross.”

he sighs heavily, slumping back in his seat in defeat. but his hand stays on your thigh, his grip tightening just enough to remind you exactly how badly he’s struggling.

for now, you let him suffer.

he was good during the rest of the program, struggling but good enough to not try to get anything from you.

when the bride and groom finally step onto the dance floor for their first dance, the lights dim, and the room falls into a hush. the soft glow from the chandeliers casts a golden halo around them as the music starts—a slow, romantic song that seems to wrap itself around them. ross leans in toward you, his lips brushing against your ear.

“they look good together, don’t they?”

you smile, tilting your head toward him slightly. “they do. they look so happy.”

he hums in agreement, his fingers tapping lightly against your knee now. “makes you wonder how long they’ve been planning this. every little detail, you know? that archway earlier? ridiculous. in a good way, though.”

“it’s worth it,” you say softly, watching as the bride laughs while the groom spins her gently. “for a moment like that? it’s all worth it.”

he doesn’t say anything for a while, just leans back in his chair and watches, his expression unreadable. you glance at him, wondering what’s going through his head, but before you can ask, the music shifts slightly, signaling the end of the first dance.

the DJ’s voice comes through the speakers. “alright, everyone, let’s get this party started! grab a partner, grab a friend, and get out on the dance floor!”

people start moving, laughter and chatter filling the room again. you think nothing of it until ross stands suddenly, holding a hand out to you.

“would you like to dance with me?”

you blink up at him, caught off guard. “you want to dance?”

his lips twitch into a small smile, and he tilts his head. “yeah, why not? come on.”

his hand is still there, steady and waiting, and there’s something about the way he looks at you—so sure, so certain—that makes it impossible to say no.

you slide your hand into his, and he helps you to your feet, his grip warm and firm. your heart does a funny little flip when he doesn’t let go, even as he starts leading you toward the dance floor, weaving through the crowd until he finds a spot that seems good enough for him.

his hand settles on your waist as he pulls you close, his other hand still holding yours. the two of you start to sway, his movements slow and easy, matching the rhythm of the song perfectly.

“you’re not terrible at this,” you tease, a small smile playing on your lips as you look up at him.

he raises an eyebrow, his mouth twitching like he’s fighting a grin. “not terrible? darling, i’m bloody brilliant at this.”

“oh, brilliant now?”

“absolutely.” his tone is mock serious as he spins you lightly, just enough to make you laugh, and when he pulls you back into his arms, his hand on your waist slides just a little higher. “better than most, i’d say.”

you roll your eyes, but the warmth in your chest makes it impossible to argue.

his lips brush your cheek then, so soft you almost don’t feel it. you glance up at him, but he’s already pulling back, his expression casual, like it’s nothing.

but then he does it again.

and again.

“ross,” you whisper, laughing softly. “what are you doing?”

“nothing,” he murmurs, though the way his lips curl at the corners gives him away.

you shake your head, leaning it against his shoulder as the two of you continue to sway. “god, i love weddings,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

his hand tightens on your waist, pulling you even closer. “is that a dream of yours?” he asks, his voice soft, almost hesitant.

“what, weddings?”

he hums. “yeah. getting married. is that something you want?”

you look up at him, your brows furrowing slightly. “of course it is.”

he stares at you for a moment, his eyes flicking between yours. then, so softly you almost don’t hear him, he says, “marry me then.”

you blink, caught completely off guard. “ross—”

“i mean it.” his voice is low, almost pleading, and his hand on your waist grips just a little tighter. “marry me. i’d do it right now if i could.”

you laugh, shaking your head. “you’ve had too much to drink.”

he frowns, his eyes narrowing slightly. “you don’t believe me?”

“ross—”

“i’m serious.” his hand moves to cradle your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek as he stares at you, his gaze so intense it makes your breath hitch. “darling, i want to marry you. i’d marry you right here, right now, if you’d let me.”

your heart stutters, and for a moment, you’re not sure what to say. “i love you.”

“i love you,” he whispers back, “i love you.”

you giggle when he places a soft kiss onto the top of your nose.

“so?” he asks.

you smile, your hands sliding up to rest on his shoulders. “ask me again when you’re sober, yeah?”

“i will,” he promises, his voice soft but sure. “and you better say yes.”

“we’ll see.”

you continue slow dancing for a few songs, keep on looking at each other and with every minute that goes by you’re getting more desperate as well.

you need way more than what happened in the bathroom. you want to give ross what he wants.

he buries his face in your neck, his beard grazing your skin as he presses open-mouthed kisses to your throat. “what are you thinking about?” he mumbles, “can’t stop thinking about what happened earlier, hm?”

“you wish,” you murmur, smoothing your fingers over his hair.

“mm, yeah,” he admits, nosing along your jaw. “i do. that would mean you’d give in.”

you shudder when his lips find the shell of your ear, his voice turning softer, more insistent.

“noticed you too, y’know,” he whispers, dragging his hands down your back, settling them low on your hips. “the way you looked at me in the bathroom. you liked it, didn’t you? having my mouth on you, my tongue fucking you open—”

“ross,” you warn, heat pooling low in your stomach.

“s’alright,” he soothes, kissing your cheek, slow and lingering. “just sayin’. got you all flustered now, haven’t i? you’re breathing so hard, love.”

you are. embarrassingly so.

he pulls back just enough to look at you properly, eyes dark, lips twitching up at the corners. “fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he breathes.

you try to school your expression, pretend like he doesn’t affect you as much as he does, but he sees right through it. always does.

“c’mon, love,” he coaxes, leaning in again, his teeth grazing your jaw this time, his voice all honeyed and coaxing. “don’t fight me on this. you want me just as bad, don’t you?”

you don’t answer, but you don’t need to.

ross groans, like the mere thought of you wanting him back is enough to ruin him. his grip tightens, his body pressing even closer to yours.

“need you,” he whispers, barely audible, but you hear it like it’s the only thing in the world that matters. “please, love. i mean it.”

your resolve cracks, splinters into nothing.

you fist a hand in his shirt, pulling him down into a kiss that’s all tongue and teeth, messy and desperate. he moans into it, hands slipping lower.

“fuck,” he breathes, stumbling backward, nearly losing his balance before catching himself. he laughs, breathless, dizzy with alcohol and arousal. “think i might need you to lead the way, love.”

you shake your head, laughing too, but it’s just as breathless. just as needy.

“c’mon then, macdonald,” you say, tugging him by the collar.

he grins, following without hesitation.

ross stumbles as you tug him along, his feet barely keeping up with yours, but he doesn’t care. he’s grinning, all dimpled and flushed, looking at you like you’ve hung the stars just for him.

“where we going, love?” he slurs, but he follows anyway, unwavering, his grip on your hand firm like he never wants to let go.

“there’s, like, a barn upstairs,” you say, giggling as you glance back at him. “beautiful though. i’ve helped to make it more comfortable—there are blankets and everything.”

“a barn?”

“a barn,” you confirm, dragging him up the stairs, your legs wobbly with alcohol and anticipation.

“god, i love you,” he breathes, the words slipping out so easily, so effortlessly, it makes your chest ache.

you push open the door, revealing the space you’ve set up—soft blankets piled in the center, the dim glow of fairy lights casting everything in warm gold. it smells like wood and old hay, but in a comforting way, something earthy and safe.

ross exhales sharply, his fingers flexing around yours. “fuck,” he mutters. “this is—fuck.”

you giggle again, giddy, stepping backward toward the blankets, pulling him with you. “you like it?”

ross shakes his head, like he can’t believe you, like he’s utterly ruined by you. “love it,” he says, but he’s not talking about the barn. he’s looking at you, the way your hair catches the light, the way your lips part slightly as you watch him.you reach for him, fingers hooking into the collar of his shirt, pulling him close. he goes willingly, crashing into you, hands finding your waist, your hips, your thighs. he groans against your mouth, drinking in your laughter, your warmth.

“been thinking about you all night,” he whispers, lips brushing against yours. “all fucking night.”

“yeah?” you murmur, hands slipping under his shirt, feeling the heat of his skin.

“yeah,” he breathes, his forehead pressing against yours. “gonna make you feel so fucking good, love. right here. in this little barn.”

you laugh again, but it’s cut off by ross kissing you, deep and slow, stealing the breath right from your lungs.

“is this safe? no one’s gonna come in the next hour?” he asks while throwing his tie next to you and his shirt next.

“no, don’t think so,” you smile.

you take a second to admire him, his breathless smile, his chest heaving up and down. the desperate look in his face.

you swing your leg over his and settle into his lap.

you gasp and bury your hand in his hair as quickly as possible. he gives your neck a kiss and presses closer to you.

he feels so close considering that he still has your panties in his pocket.

"i need you, love," you only hum in response, arching your back so you can grind down on him, an opportunity he graciously accepts. he groans low and rough into your neck as he starts to thrust up as well, “i- christ, this feels too good.”

his arm sneaks behind your back to pull the zipper of your dress down and letting it fall down your stomach. he continues to take off your bra and immediately squeeze one of your tits in his hands as you grind down harder,"oh fuckin’ hell.”

you tug his hair tie off and run your hand through his now messy hair.

"good?” is all you mumble before finally devouring his lips in a kiss that he whines into. whines

his frantic humping turns into purposeful grinding as you pull away. his breathing is more erratic than you've ever heard it. his eyes are shut as tightly as his hand is gripping your hip, surely leaving dents in your skin.

“ross,” you breathe out, “need me so bad?”

you try to sound teasing, dominant but instead the question comes out high and breathy, sounds as desperate as he's acting.

all you get in response is a growl from ross before his hand leaves your boob to flip your both around so he’s laying on top of you again.

his hair is mussed - definitely your doing, but his lips are red and bitten, presumably from holding in his sounds. his eyes are blown wide, glinting with a crazed look as he grinds into you gently.

he has his hand on your thigh, your leg pulled over his hip do he can grind right into your core, sending convulsions throughout your body.

after taking him in you meet his eyes again and he crumbles. whimpering a loose form of your name before burying his face in your neck and inhaling your scent as his hand coming to your lower back to press your body into his.

“you’re everything, darling,” he breathes out, “so gorgeous and i swear i’m gonna marry you one day. i’ll propose and then we’re going to have mini you’s that have your sweet smile.”

he continues, “and also i’m really fucking bothered right now and i’m losing my mind.”

his desperation is leaking into your veins now, the same way you've started to seep into your underwear, growing tired and teased with ross’ incessant movements against you.

“i think you deserve that reward now.”

you reach for his belt buckle, undoing it and reaching into his underwear. the moment your hands touch his already hard cock, ross shuts his eyes tightly, a soft moan escaping from his lips.

you can also already guide your hand down so smoothly because his pre cum made him so wet.

when you start to move your hand, softly stroking him and teasing his tip, you see how he reacts. he’s biting his lip, looking so lost and hazy.

“don’t, ross,” you say, brushing your thumb over his bottom lip, “be loud. i wanna hear you, please.”

you pick up the pace, but still keeping slow and you succeed. ross groans and throws his head back.

'bit faster, please- oh' he begs, his eyes still focussed on you. you smirk at him.

“anything for you,” you speed up your pace, and you're met with more sounds. deeper groans and muffled moans.

“christ, i can’t- i’m-“ he pants, desperation coating his words. when he's about to cum, he shuts his eyes but your hand stills.

ross looks even more fucked out now.

“fuck, this is embarrassing,” he says, “i don’t think-“

“it’s alright,” you give him one of your warm smiles, “you already made me feel so good. this is about you now. lift your hips.”

he lifts himself off the blanket slightly as you pull his cock out of the confines of his underwear. you lower your head towards him, slowly, keeping eye contact the entire time. with you on your knees in front of him, ross feels more confident, but there's no confusion about who is in control of this situation.

you take him into your mouth, and a hiss escapes from his mouth. “oh fuck, love... “ he groans. you move down, taking him deeper into your mouth until your nose touches the skin at his base. you gag, and ross moves his hand to tangle in your hair. not to hold you there, but to appreciate.

you lift away from him, and back down, settling into a steady pace as his precum coats your tongue.

“oh christ, you feel so good, love having your mouth on me,” ross moans in between pants.

he moves his hand to the back of your head and thrusts into your mouth, and you take it.

his head falls further and further back as his breathing quickens, his groans turning into louder moans as he comes closer to his breaking point. when he's almost there, just seconds away from his release, he pulls your head back.

“fuck, need to be inside of you,” he says, “please.”

you nod and stand up to let your dress fall onto the floor. ross shoves his pants from the bottom of his legs as well and then you’re there. both naked. both so vulnerable.

“you’re a dream.”

you lay down underneath him and he rolls on top of you kissing you and sliding his tongue into your mouth.

he’s back to weakly grinding against your thighs and you need him to finally feel good.

he moans your name when you wrap your hand around him but his breath is stolen as you line him up and practically shove him in.

he's surrounded in your wet warmth before he can take another breath. the same heat he's been craving.

his head drops into your neck again and you feel every breathe of his on your skin.

he just pants against you, incapable of taking even breaths as his hips twitch softly and against his will into you.

you lift his head and hold his cheeks, “you can take what you want ross.”

you hold his eye contact as your hands come to the base of his spine, pressing down and curving his hips into you, guiding his slow and gentle thrusts.

his face crumples in pleasure, all his features scrunching in as he tries not to moan into your face. his hand twitches on your throat before tightening again as he leans down to press you against his forehead before resting his cheek on yours as he finally releases all the sounds he's been holding in.

first you get a guttural groan, something that sounds like it came from the depths of his chest; low and rumbling. as his hips begin to move on their own accord, his moans change. they become more urgent, short and cut off as he tries to catch his breath. every now and then it sounds like the first syllable of your name but he's never able to get the full thing out.

“so good, darling,” he moans out, “just like that, fuck.”

you try and stay composed as you guide him but he's ramming into your g-spot. your brain is turning to mush, melting out of your ears. when ross pulls his face away from yours, wanting to examine your state, he can tell. he can tell that you're not all there, that you're holding on by a thread for him.

you watch a lazy smirk slide over his face as his hooded eyes meet yours. "it's okay, love.. m'here.

ross lifts one of your legs, gripping your thigh and pushing it to meet your chest. "you dont have to act all tough," it feels as though he's opened up a new channel inside you, like he's reaching places that weren't accessible before. like he's reached heaven, inside you. "you can let go, darling."

you explode.

you have no choice but to fall apart. you hadn't even been aware of how badly you'd been craving him as well.

it feels like your body falls completely apart. you don't feel attached your limbs anymore. all you can feel is the warmth blossoming violently in your abdomen. your thighs shake, and ross tightens his grip, wanting to feel the rippling muscles under his palm.

he watches your brows furrow as your eyes roll back. you go limp in his arms, your entire body relaxing as you soak him.

ross fucks into you at a leisurely pace, forgetting his desperation in favor of watching you melt into the ground. but as he thrusts he watches you slowly coat him.

he gasps once and sees your eyes snap open to his, waiting and watching as his body folds in on itself to fill you with him.

“oh fucking-“

ross almost falls on top of you, his arm catching him before he lowers himself into your lips. he's too busy moaning your name and praises to kiss you properly. he rests his lips against yours as his mind clears, blank and thoughtless, finally satiated after hours of driving him crazy.

his body weight slowly increases as he blankets you, his cock pulsing inside you gently, gently pumping pent up ropes of cum into you despite the small amount already leaking onto your thighs.

"love you so much," ross mumbles groggily into your ear. his hand comes up to stroke your head, soothing you as he notices your rapid heartbeat. “you’re perfect, love. want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“me too," your hand slides out of his hair and down his back, scratching gently and relishing in the way you feel his chest rumble with a contented hum.

"you feel better now?" he chuckles softly before biting you semi-gently. "menace. don’t ever want to sit with my dick hard for hours again," he sighs against your skin. "glad you had your fun though," he licks over his teeth marks before kissing them.

you giggle and scratch his back gently.

ross hums and closes his eyes, “think we have to join the party again?”

“probably.”

he hums in understanding and detaches himself from you. you react quickly and pull him back down, “five more minutes though,” you plead.

“five more minutes it is.”

[qwimblenorrisstan]

Tension | Frank Woods x Reader

Summary: You and Woods have had it out for each other since you joined his team, but tensions reach their breaking point in enemy territory, when it’s just the two of you.

Word Count: ~4.6k

Warnings: this would make the pope cry, implied misogynist, p in v, fingering, oral fem receiving, violence, blood, guns, violent make out sessions, handjob, cutesy kissing, overstimulation, just a lot

Minors, do not interact!

A/N: thank you to britney spears, alex mason, sleep deprivation, and my glorious king lin manuel miranda for this thing I have created❣️first frank woods fic and this thing is filthy wow. it’s been a long time since I’ve written something this long

(also this is woods between bo1 and bo2 before menendez snatched his knees up💔)

Requests are open!

Frank Woods clearly had never met a woman before.

That was the natural conclusion one would come to, after seeing how he interacted with one. Especially a woman in the military who was on active duty, and not just a secretary or some CIA lapdog.

He was rough around the edges, and you didn’t mind that, hell, you were an active-duty Marine. You’d gone through basic training, survived the screaming and orders, and shed a few tears before wiping them and getting back up. But he was only rough around the edges to everyone else, and that made your blood boil.

He didn’t seem to know what to do with you.

“You cut out for this?”

Had been the first sentence he’d said to you after you’d been handpicked to join his team. His expression, an eyebrow raised, something like doubt that you could’ve sworn was in his eyes.

You’d given the look right back, looking him up and down, giving a once over in a more im-sizing-you-up than a taking-you-in kind of way. Maybe you’d had a bit of sass to your tone.

“You think I’m not?”

It had been more of a challenge than a question, a sharp brow cocked at him. The man to his left, an operative named Alex Mason, you’d learn later, had grimaced slightly.

Woods had chuckled, raising his hands in a gesture of mock innocence, before replying.

“No need to get all pissy, hon, just want to make sure you can keep up. This ain’t exactly any normal team—“

Hon. Something like pissed disbelief was on your face as the rest of his words went unheard in your temporary shock before you gave a little huff of mock laughter.

“I’ll keep up just fine, sweetheart.”

You laid the mocking tone on thick with the ‘sweetheart’, walking forward and slamming the paperwork you’d been given into Wood’s chest while walking past him. The little flicker of surprise that went across his face was enough to satisfy you for quite a while.

As you walked away, you heard a sigh from Mason, and Woods mumbling something under his breath.

That had been the beginning of your rivalry with the man, and his every action drove another needle into your skin.

From mission to mission, he repeatedly displayed his complete lack of trust or faith in you. You could understand being skeptical of someone who had just joined your team, but it was getting ridiculous

“Mason, take point.”

It was Mason’s fifth time taking the lead. He hadn’t asked you to even once. Never mind if you enjoyed the view of Woods’ ass when he was in front of you, or the way you could see his muscular thighs moving on some parts when he had to climb over something.

Or when he’d be demeaning.

“Here, I can hold it.”

Your 15-pound weapon. Sure, it was getting heavy, but you didn’t need any help. Not from him, or any man for that matter.

“I can handle it.”

You’d ground out, shooting him a look, trying not to watch how the muscles of his arms flexed slightly as he shifted, the sweat beaded on him, and the few little drops down his forehead. Or how good his tactical vest looked on him.

“Whatever you say, sweets.”

You hated it when he called you that. It felt demeaning, and worse, it sounded hot when the names rolled off his tongue with the little bit of a low rasp that his voice had.

Or worse, when there was a grenade thrown. The first time it had happened, you couldn’t decide between throttling him or jumping his bones right then and there.

“Grenade!”

You’d heard the clatter, and being in an enclosed room, had been decidedly fucked. It had been a few feet away, and when you’d gone to move, you had been jolted forward, a pair of arms wrapping around you, and slammed into the dirt ground on your side.

You’d smelt the cheap cigarette smoke on his breath and the balm he used in his beard, and known it was Frank fucking Woods who’d tackled you.

The explosion had gone off, dust kicking up everywhere and shrapnel flinging itself in every direction but somehow barely nicking either of you.

His hot breath had fanned against your neck, mouth mere inches from your neck. His arms were squeezing tight around your torso, almost to the point of pain, but just not quite. One of his legs was thrown over yours, foot hooking around your ankle and pulling you back into him.

It was an oddly intimate position, and not just because of the fact that he had very likely just saved your life.

It might’ve been his hard-on pressed against your ass.

For a moment, there was just silence and the sound of both of you panting. Adrenaline and something else was running through your veins. You shifted and glanced back at him, taking one look at his heated stare and blown pupils, the way his tongue darted out to lick his too-chapped lips, and knew that things couldn’t go back to normal.

The moment had been interrupted by Mason, walking in and telling you both to wrap it up, only to take a very bewildered double take a moment later as he realized what he’d seen.

“Get off me, bastard.”

“A thank you would be nice.”

“Thanks for not flattening me, fatass.”

After that, the line between professional and something else had blurred, and you didn’t know where either of you were now. Too afraid to cross, unsure if you already had, and not eager to take the first step.

It had escalated from little lingering glances during debriefs, to the smallest brushes of touch between insults, to now, wearing his trademark green slip of fabric as a ponytail holder and not hesitating to flank him alongside Mason.

A rocky, unsteady trust was built, though more out of necessity than want.

You had slowly become his weak spot. Heated touches and looks, wanton gazes, made the entire team tense. The anticipation of waiting for something to finally happen between you two, for someone to take the first step despite the animosity both of you showed.

It had come to a head on a specific mission.

It should’ve been simple, get in, get the information the CIA wanted, and get out. Key word: should’ve.

Not clad in your usual military gear, opting for normal black clothing to keep hidden. If everything went right, you wouldn’t need a bulletproof vest or any gear, anyway.

Everything had gone fine right up until the point where it hadn’t. You had managed to slip past the guards quickly, in the outside base, Frank following, Mason stationed nearby to provide an eye on everything.

“All clear.”

His voice came over the radio.

You turned the corner, moving to a small building where you heard the crackle of a radio, and slowly opened the rickety metal door, scanning for anybody in it.

Clear.

“Moving into a building.”

You’d muttered, holding a small button on the radio clipped to your vest to relay the message to Mason.

“Copy that. Keep quiet.”

Woods snorted at that.

“Great advice.”

He muttered, closing the metal door behind him and twisting the small lock on the handle, standing up from his crouched position and stretching his back with a small groan.

“Like you’re any better.”

You shot him a look, moving to the table with the radio and observing it, fiddling with a few buttons before deciding there wasn’t anything valuable. The rest of the contents of the table, not as useless, not at all.

“Isn’t this what we need?”

You asked in a skeptical tone, looking at a few of the files on the table, all classified information that they’d carelessly left out. Woods had leaned in, just a bit too close to you, and shrugged.

“Fuck if I know. Probably.”

He glanced back at them, then at the stairs to the second floor.

“Gonna head upstairs, see if anything good’s up there.”

His definition of good was an explosive, a gun, or money, so you weren’t exactly confident he’d find anything actually useful for the mission.

You opened the files, skimming over the information inside, missing the subtle click of background noise that you had probably assumed was Woods shuffling around upstairs. A few quiet footsteps, and then something solid was slammed into your head.

Pain blossomed through your body as an adrenaline rush began pumping through your veins, and you grunted at the pain of the blow before turning—more being grabbed, and thrown to the floor before you could even attempt a defense.

Your hands pushed at the enemy soldier above you, kicking and clawing at him, trying to yell only for his gloved hand to smother your mouth.

“Who the fuck are you?”

The hand over your mouth quickly went around your neck, squeezing just tight enough for you to start losing the ability to think straight while running out of oxygen.

“Fuck off—“

You ground out, eyes going over to the stairwell as you saw a blurry figure stalk down them. Just as your vision began turning to black, objects turning to blurry flecks of color as your eyes watered, the man above you was suddenly ripped off as Woods wrestled him to the ground.

You took a desperate gasp of air, lungs burning with it as your throat ached, the pain in your head barely beginning to subside.

Moving to get to your feet, you watched as the man collided to the floor with Frank, your coworker’s fist slamming into the soldier’s face with a strength you hadn’t seen from him in….ever.

The man grabbed his pistol, hand barely gripping it as he used it to pistol whip Woods right in the nose, before you scrambled over and wrestled the gun out of his hand, seeing his finger going for the trigger before you snatched it, and aligned it with his temple before firing.

The grunting and sounds of fighting suddenly died down completely, the mystery soldier going limp, and Woods rolling off of him.

“Jesus,”

He muttered, wiping at his bleeding nose, his knuckles scraped and bloody. Maybe it was the lightheadedness from being choked out, or the adrenaline making your blood rush through your body, but goddamn did he look hot.

He glanced up at you, both of your eyes meeting, and for a split second there was dead silence other than both of your ragged breathing before you lunged and this time, you tackled him to the floor.

Your lips collided with his, body landing right on top of his as your hands went to grab his face, not letting him move an inch other than closer to you. He hummed, almost fucking moaning into it, shoving his tongue right into your mouth with no qualms, only to let out a huff of laughter through his nose when you pushed right back.

He rolled over, trapping you against the concrete floor, not being surprised when your hands shifted right down to his chest and tried pushing him back onto his back.

Your mouths separated long enough for him to gasp in a breath of air before slamming right down into you again, his rough, calloused hands sliding under your shirt, feeling up every inch of your skin until reaching your bra, only to get kneed in the dick by none other than you.

You ended the kiss for the moment, pushing him off of you, watching as he groaned and cradled his crotch.

“Bitch,”

He panted out, no real ire in his tone, a near-feral grin on his face as he watched you get up, knees nearly buckling.

“I’d rather not repeat earlier, dumbass. If you’re gonna fuck me—“

Your sentence was interrupted with a grunt as you grabbed a nearby metal cabinet, and moved to push it in front of the door so you didn’t have anyone interrupting either of you. He watched you struggle for a moment, before getting to his feet, and planting his feet on the ground while shoving the cabinet alongside you.

“—we aren’t getting interrupted.”

You finished once the cabinet was moved, watching as he grabbed it and picked it up with an astounding ease too, shifting it to an angle against the door, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

“Show off.”

You scoffed. He let out a little chuckle at that, turning to you with a raised brow.

“Barricades go at an angle. I’ve told you that before.”

Stupid banter and teasing was all it was. You looked him up and down, eyes lingering on certain areas, before replying.

“I was a bit distracted.”

He was a sight like this. Bloodied knuckles, dried blood on his face, sweaty and clearly on some kind of high from adrenaline, spit smeared on his beard.

“Oh, I’ll show you distracted.”

The hint of a threat made something fire up in your veins as he wrapped a single one of his arms around your waist, lifting and throwing you over his shoulder, ignoring your little “Hey—!”, as he carried you to the desk, his other arm impatiently swiped all of the important documents to the ground as he set you down on the desk.

“I hate you,”

You said, giving him an indignant look before leaning forward and hurriedly resuming the earlier kiss you had abruptly ended, his beard tickling your face as you moved your hands to slip under his shirt, feeling up from the little pudge of his stomach, to the hard muscle of his torso, to his hairy chest, and back down.

He caught on quickly, groaning as he shoved his hands under your shirt in return, rough, calloused hands feeling up every inch of your skin, the fat and muscle of it, up to your bra.

He pulled away just a moment, panting for air, fingers lingering at the edge of your bra. He raised his brows in question.

“Go on,”

“Thought you hated me?”

“Shut up.”

He didn’t need to be told twice, cupping your breasts and squeezing, kneading the fat of them as your breath caught in your throat. Your hands moved to his shirt, pawing at it until catching the end and yanking it upwards. He flashed a cocky grin, pulling his hands out from your shirt, quickly stripping out of his shirt, revealing the thin layer of fat covering his muscular physique.

You practically clawed your shirt off, feeling overheated in it now, anyway, the bra soon to follow.

“Fuuuck,”

He groaned as he saw you, his hands itching to touch you anywhere and everywhere, need building in his gut as he began a slow, heated trail of kisses from your jawline, down your neck and collarbone, taking care to suck and bite on the skin there, leave his mark, all the way down between the valley of your tits, your stomach, until he reached your pants.

A little glance up at you for confirmation, and he was pulling them down with an almost embarrassing desperation, though Frank Woods would never be embarrassed of being desperate for you.

Your underwear was yanked down as he dropped to his knees, the hard impact of the concrete barely registering as he wrapped his hands around your thighs, letting you choose to spread them, and fucking buried his face in your cunt.

“Jesus fucking—Frank!”

Too much too fast, the sensations went from zero to one hundred as he slid his tongue up your folds, took a second to find your clit, and latched onto it, lapping at it like a dog while groaning like a senseless mutt.

Your hips bucked forward as you cried out, muscles constricting and tensing before relaxing as you squirmed beneath him. One hand deserted its post at your thigh and slipped down to your pussy, and he ran his middle and index finger through your slick, before surprisingly gently fingering at your hole, making sure that would fit.

Your hands fisted in his hair but allowed a moment of reprieve as he stopped for just a moment to breathe, nearly gasping for it. His eyes were half-lidded and looked hazy, like he was drunk, high, or both.

“Fuckin’ heaven.”

He muttered, throwing a lazy smile up at you as he leaned forward, licking a lewd stripe up your cunt while maintaining eye contact, slipping both of his fingers in right then. You groaned, eyes squeezing shut as your walls clenched around the sudden intrusion of his fingers, their calluses and thicker-than-normal girth a new experience for you.

“Woods,”

You gasped his name like a prayer when he dove back in, his tongue working you hungrily, like a man starved, disgustingly hot slurping sounds making their way into your ears as his pace with his fingers quickened, slamming in, out, in, out and rubbing against a certain sweet spot in a delicious way that made you dizzy.

Your eyes squeezed shut as you felt everything tense, an orgasm quickly approaching and threatening to overwhelm you completely. You were torn between tugging his face closer and pushing it away as your hips steadily rocked against him, basically grinding against his face at this point.

Either he noticed your tighter grip, the gasps and moans becoming quickly incomprehensible as you babbled pure nonsense, or the muscles in your thighs tensing up just a bit too much to be normal, because he intensified his ministrations, sucking on your clit and flicking his tongue against it, until that cord in your stomach finally snapped and you nearly screamed, only not because his other hand moved to your mouth, shoving a few fingers in, and you began mindlessly sucking on them, moaning around them.

Your vision went blurry and spotted for almost a moment, everything trembling as Woods slowly pulled his fingers out, sucking each off with a little ‘pop’ at the end, and standing back up.

He eased his other fingers out of your mouth, wrapping both arms around you, holding you against his chest as he rubbed your back, cradling your trembling body.

“I know, it’s a whole fuckin’ lot. Did so good for me, pretty girl.”

He murmured, one of his hands going to gently rub at your scalp, idly playing with your hair while waiting for you to come down from your high and resettle. He didn’t want to overwhelm you too much.

A few minutes passed, of him holding you close, muttering sweet nothings into your ear, with a honeyed tone with that delicious rasp and almost growl of his, before you finally came back down to Earth, dazed and horny as fuck.

“You alright?”

He asked, and you groaned.

“Never been better. You gonna show me what you’re packing?”

You gave a pointed glance at the very noticeable tent in his pants, and he laughed breathlessly, his hand going to tug down the thick canvas texture pants he was wearing, kicking them off until they joined the rest of both of your clothes on the floor. His old, ratty boxers that he’d probably had since the Vietnam War were next to go, his cock springing out in all of its ungroomed glory.

Precum was smeared and beaded on the tip, probably why there was a wet spot on his boxers. It was hairy, much like the rest of Frank, not that you really gave a shit. A good 5 inches, pretty damn thick too.

Jesus Christ.

“Enjoying the view?”

He asked with a cocky, knowing smirk, as you’d been having a staring contest with his dick. You rolled your eyes, reaching down and wrapping your fingers around his cock, watching as it twitched a bit in your hand, examining the way Woods’ expression shifted into pleasure when you squeezed just a bit, and teasingly just barely rubbed the tip.

“I think I’ll like the feel more.”

You said, listening to the low moan that slipped out from his lips, the steady rocking of his hips against your hand as it seemed to throb in your hands, having a pulse of its own.

“Oh, god—“

Woods wasn’t a religious man by any means, but he figured that he was being blessed by some god out there if he was experiencing this right now.

His breathing grew a bit heavier as his brows furrowed, thighs clenching and his knees threatening to give out from under him. God, he was so fucking close—and—

You stopped.

Completely took your hand off, and when he fully opened his eyes, you were looking at him with a smug little smirk that both made him want to strangle you and also made his dick stand prouder than ever.

“You just love torturing me—don’t you?”

He asked, trying to regulate his breathing as he wrapped a hand around himself, giving a few little pumps, and moving forward, rubbing his cock through your folds a few times to lubricate himself, before aligning with your entrance.

You spread your legs, wrapping them around his torso and squeezing to pull him in closer, trap him in, your hands going to hold him close as they wrapped around his upper back, nails threateningly close to scratching him.

“It’s hardly torture,”

You said in an amused tone, squeezing just a bit tighter as his hand went to rub at the fat of your hip.

“Relax, mama, don’t wanna hurt you.”

He muttered, moving torturously slowly as he pushed his bulbous tip in, finally getting it all the way in as he let you have a little moment to adjust as you clenched around him. His thumb went to go rub at your clit, small, slow circles around and around it, trying to get you to relax.

He succeeded, as the stimulation went right to your head, lips parting as you lowly moaned, leaning forward and leaning your head on his shoulders.

“Yeah, feels good, right? You like that, baby?”

He cooed in your ear, using your state to slip just a little bit more slowly in, and letting out a shaky breath as your body clenched around him, sucking him further into the sticky, wet, warmth of you.

He began rocking his hips slowly out, then right back in, until eventually he could slide nearly all the way in. Finally, after what felt like hours, he bottomed out and let out a shuddering breath that almost sounded like a whine.

“So fuckin’ tight, gonna squeeze my dick right off, baby—“

He mumbled, letting his finger on your clit speed up just a little bit while beginning with slow, languid thrusts while he groaned right into your ear, slowly speeding up until his arm was holding you tightly to him purely so you didn’t move around too much or get friction burns.

The initial stretch hadn’t been terrible, but now, with his pace picking up until he was pounding into you like a rabbit, rubbing right up against every little sweet spot buried in you that you hadn’t even known you’d had.

Your puffy cliff was practically being rubbed raw, overstimulation building as your mind tried processing and failed, too overwhelmed in a good way as you couldn’t think of a single fucking thing.

“Frank—“

His name, you could cry out that much. Your nails dug into the tanned and freckled skin of his back, scratching long red marks up and down, something he’d definitely feel later.

“Yeah? What is it, baby?”

You were jolted back and forth due to the impact of his hips and yours. The whines increasing in pitch and the moans were about the only thing you could get out between hiccups, your back arching in ecstasy, hips jerking forward in an attempt to push him deeper.

“‘S too much,”

You whined, and he gave a little shake of his head.

“No, you can take it, doing so well. Being so nice and pretty, jus’ needed a little bit of dick, didn’t you?”

He mumbled, pushing forward in a particularly hard thrust and watching the little bulge that appeared for a second, and leaning forward to press a hot kiss to your lips, not caring for a mess he made.

His thumb picked up the pace, rubbing faster and faster, while he continued to hammer into you, and the pleasure quickly became overwhelming, a few tears pricking at your eyes as you couldn’t do anything but cry out his name, moan, and take it. He was clearly getting close to a climax as well, judging by how his eyes squeezed shut, thighs clenching desperately.

“Jesus, fuck, oh my god,”

He rasped out, his head tilting back slightly as his rhythm slipped for a moment, desperately rutting into you like an animal. All the pleasure came to a singular point, and your orgasm crashed over you, unbearable and making something under your skin claw at you for freedom.

Your legs spasmed as you clenched around his dick like a vice, and he let out a little yelp, his eyes nearly rolling back in his head as he came on sight, stuffing you full of his cum while desperately shoving it deeper with his hips, groaning like a whore.

Your entire body felt weak and drained, limp as a fucking noodle, your vision still not completely back to normal after the intense aftershocks of your climax. Your heart was pounding, hips bucking at every little crumb of stimulation now.

Frank was breathing hard, leaning against the table, before regaining mental consciousness and slowly pulling out, cringing at how sensitive he was.

“You okay?”

A glint of worry underlied his assessing gaze as he looked you over, this time not a hint of lust, checking for any injuries to see if he accidentally had hurt you.

You felt like you’d just run a marathon. But taking a look at the documents on the floor, you remembered that you both still had a job to do, and an important one, too.

“Fine. Just..tired.”

Taking one look at you, he picked your clothes up off the ground and set them on the table.

The chill of the air nipped at your skin, though he didn’t seem as bothered by it, slowly helping your limp legs back into underwear, trying not to watch his own spend drip out of you, then pants.

He slipped your bra on, shirt soon to follow, eyes momentarily drifting to the various bruises and little indentations of teeth marks he’d left, before grabbing his own clothes and beginning to put them back on. A few minutes and he was clothed, before the both of you began picking the documents up, at this point just assuming they were the right ones and wanting to leave.

You realized quite a lot too late that the way it had landed on the floor, the button to relay a message had been pressed down the entire time.

Meaning Mason had overheard the entire thing.

You and Woods exchanged a look, before he started poorly suppressing a laugh. You sighed, pressing the button down.

“We’re finished in here. Got the information, we’ll be heading out now.”

Mason’s voice came back over after a minute.

“I’m well aware that you both finished. You’re clear, no traffic.”

Woods’ poorly restrained laugh became a poorly muffled laugh at that.

It was safe to say that once all of you got to exfil, simply a discreet van, it was a long ride home. Mason stared at the ground the entire time, while you took a nap on Woods’ shoulder, and Frank seemed awfully proud of himself, talking about anything that came to mind before passing out on Mason’s shoulder in the final stretch of the car ride.

At least you wouldn’t be alone in your barracks anymore.

[celenexox]

Just another Picture to Burn - Matt Sturniolo

summary: when your boyfriend matt cheats on you, but you couldn’t care less

warnings: breakup, swearing, minor violence

as matt walks into the house, you walk over to him and slap him across the face, chris and nick watching this unravel behind the two of you in shock

five minutes before this happened, you were called to the living room by your friends nick and chris

as you walk over to them coming out of matt’s room you hear chris say “y/n there’s something we have to show you”

nick and chris look worried, scared almost, you chuckle a little at the look of their worried faces, not knowing what’s about to come next

“what’s up guys? what’s up with the frowns?” you say, trying to lighten up the mood

as you walk over to them, chris hands you his phone, on it, a picture of your boyfriend matt, kissing another girl

you couldn’t believe your eyes, didn’t know how to react, what should you say?

“when was this?…” you say, barely above a whisper

“three days ago” nick answers softly

“okay, how do you know, maybe this was before we got together” you say to chris and nick, but honestly you’re just trying to convince yourself of that right now

you and matt have been dating for only three months, which is not that long, so that picture could have been taken before that, right?

“n- no y/n, this was three days ago, he was wearing that shirt three days ago, and that’s the day he went to that party without us” nick says

“he went to a party without us, without me? he doesn’t even enjoy parties” you say, trying to keep your composure

“okay so where is matt right now.” you demand to know, your whole demeanor has changed, you can’t let your friends think that you’re upset, that you’re weak, matt doesn’t deserve you like that for him

“he’s gonna be home any minute now, don’t tell him for now okay?” chris asks of you

“why not? i deserve to know more about what happened from him, not his brothers, he cheated on me! does that not seem insane to you??” you raise your voice at chris

suddenly, you’re interrupted by the door opening, matt walks in

you, nick, and chris are now all staring at him

you look at nick and chris before walking up to matt, sort of a warning

matt looks at you walk up to him quietly, confused at what’s happening

then suddenly you slap him across the face, creating a loud sound and a gasp from nick and chris

you’ve never laid a hand on matt before, and you didn’t think you would ever have to

“what the fuck? y/n, guys, what happened” matt says, still confused, his audacity and the fact that he hasn’t caught up yet surprising you

you walk away from matt, snatch chris’s phone out his hand and shove it in matt’s face with the picture still up

“this is what happens you bitch!” you say loudly, “how could you cheat on me! we’ve literally only been dating for three months you pig!”

matt’s face now red as a tomato, almost speechless and trying to gather up the right words to say in this situation “okay y/n i can explain”

“save it you bitch! i never want to see you again, im out, we’re done!” you say, and grab your things and head out

——————————————————————

it has now been two weeks since the two of you had broken up, and to be honest with yourself you weren’t that upset that he was out of your life, the only thing that really upset you was the fact that he wasted your time

and also ever since you and matt broke up, you haven’t spoken a single word to your friends nick and chris either, not because you’re mad at them, but because you’d be reminded of matt every time you’d see them, and you didn’t want that right now

suddenly you were bursted out of your thoughts with a knock on the door

you got up and opened the door, it was matt

you chuckle at the fact that he showed up here, no shame, no remorse for what happened between the two of you

“what the fuck are you doing here matt?” you say with a blank tone, you didn’t like the idea of matt being here at your house

“i messed up okay? and i miss you, i promise if you take me back i’ll never fuck up like this ever again” he says, all desperate sounding

you look him up and down a few times, “there’s no way you think that i think that little of myself, matt the pictures were everywhere, of you kissing another girl, that’s not me, while we were together”

“yeah i know but-“

you cut matt off

“let me finish, I’m never gonna make the same mistake again, you were just a waste of effort, i could have done so much more things with the time that i spent on you, now get the fuck out” you say and slam the door in his face

you knew that you never wanted to see him again, you realized that he loved himself and the thrill of a new girl more than he could ever just love you

you didn’t care what happened after this, you knew that he was just another picture to burn.

[pukefactory]

AM I LATE? OKAY OKAY COUGH UHHH IMMA TRY AND MAKE THIS QUICK.

Either Cosmo x Young (around 9?) sibling reader...Some Plot: not a lot of people like us since we act differently from their favorite and it continues to repeat into bulling for weeks and weeks until one day we come up crying to them and then we start to explain that we were getting bullied for just being different and go explaining what they did. Then Cosmo procedded to confront the person (not sure what you want but something like that and then Cosmo ends up reporting them to the handlers.

Im sorry if it's not clear but I hope this wasn't too late! It really just angst to fluff

Nope, you’re not late at all! This is a unique and intriguing prompt. It did challenge me a bit, but I hope it meets your expectations!

── ･ ｡ﾟ⟡ AND ONCE MORE ⟡ ˚｡ ･ ──

♫ Summary: Cosmo helps his bullied little sibling

♫ Character(s): Cosmo (Dandy’s World)

♫ Reader Pronouns: Non Specified

♫ Genre: Short Story, Angst, Comfort

♫ Word Count: 567

♫ Warning(s): Mentions of Bullying, Physical Abuse

You remember every name you’ve been called but how many times? You’ve lost count. It’s been more than enough. And every time you ask them why they’re so cruel, they just laugh in your face, calling you a freak, a no-show, a good-for-nothing weirdo—just because you’re different from the other toons. You don’t fit in.

According to them, there’s nothing special about you. That’s their excuse for treating you so horribly. And for a while, you believe them. Why wouldn’t you? If they keep pushing, shoving, and yelling, they must be right… right?

You endure their cruelty for weeks, letting them hurl insults and knock you around because you think you deserve it. But today, they take it too far. One of them shoves you to the ground, spitting out the same tired words you’ve heard a hundred times before. Then comes the first kick. Then another. And another. They don’t stop until they’ve had their fill and walk away, leaving you curled up in a ball, trembling and sobbing, trying to shield yourself from the pain.

The moment they’re gone, you scramble to your feet, ignoring the throbbing in your back, and run. Run to the one place you know is safe. Run to the one person who can help you.

Cosmo is in the kitchen, casually baking cupcakes—something he and Spout have done countless times. Lately, he’s always in the kitchen, experimenting with new recipes, even when his best friend isn’t around to help. He slides a tray into the preheated oven, wipes the sweat from his forehead, and then hears the front door creak open, followed by soft sniffles.

The second he sees you—his little sibling, tear-streaked and shaking—he rushes over, not caring about the batter-covered mess on his hands.

“Hey, what’s wrong, buddy?” His voice is gentle but filled with concern.

You sniffle, trying to wipe away your tears, but they keep falling no matter how hard you try. “They keep hurting me…”

“Who keeps hurting you?”

“A group of bullies.” You hiccup, voice breaking. “They keep hurting me because I’m a freak!”

Without hesitation, Cosmo pulls you into a warm hug, shushing you softly. “You’re not a freak. You never were, and you never will be.”

He rubs your back in slow, soothing circles, his embrace melting away some of the fear.

“How about we bake some cupcakes together? And after that…” He pulls back slightly, giving you a knowing look. “Would you mind showing me who those meanies are?”

You nod without hesitation. You trust him. You feel safe with him.

After sharing a fresh batch of cupcakes, you lead Cosmo to the ones who have been tormenting you for weeks. He sends you back to the kitchen with a simple request—to clean up a little while he handles things.

An hour passes before he finally returns, looking somewhere between satisfied and angry. As he steps inside, his eyes flick to the kitchen, clearly impressed by how spotless it is.

“What took you so long?” you ask.

“Oh, I was just dealing with those mean people.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing bad! I told the toon handlers everything, so they definitely won’t be bothering you anymore.”

You gasp, then throw your arms around him. “Thank you, Cosmo.”

“Of course. Anything for you, bud.” He hugs you back, a small smile on his face, relieved that you’re finally safe.

Everything will be okay now.

[calamarispiderart]

hello hello!!! random question before i get started on work haha

how do you come up with dialogue for ur hms comics? the back n forth of them feels so heavy and realistic. especially the casualness paired with the bleeding-brooding (alliteration for fun) violence makes everything just. hit. in a tragic and hopeless way imo. it’s so neat :0

i’ve been trying that kind of writing out a bit lately too. this is what i’ve managed with my iambic pentameter gang (hms but rain world iterator). MiND is being threatened by the rage pent up inside himself. and, strangely enough, it has the voice of HeART.

constructive feedback is welcome ^_^!

once again, hello hello! sending good wishes and all :]. i love ur work ^_^ 💛

oooo hmm... this isnt something ive ever really thought about trying to explain, thank you for the question! big fan of the posing in the piece youve added here btw, i like the alliteration in 'heliocentric heathen' B:•∆

honestly the way i go about writing them isnt something i feel i can put into words with a clear structure of process... often with my comics it starts with me simply having a vague idea of 'i want to make a comic today', and drawing what feels right to lead into it. the words typically link in with the actions as well - i usually draw something, draw the next thing, write a bit of dialogue, draw the next thing, write more dialogue.... not in that exact order but the words always feel to be a reaction to the actions and the actions are a reaction to the words (and/or, words and actions work in tandem). people rarely talk in a vacuum, especially when theyre having the conversation in person, so i find it helpful to see the actions as part of the dialogue and vice versa.

occasionally ive scripted out dialogue beforehand (always with actions included within the script.) but even with a script what actually is said needs to adjust with whats been drawn. when i dont write with a script (which is the norm), its often while im drawing the next frame that im thinking over whats being said. typically i just go over and over a sentence mentally, adjusting bits until it feels right, looking at it once its written on the page and adjusting it more if necessary.

perhaps a bit vague? apologies! i do have certain mental rules i try keep in mind for each of the threes characters while writing. 'how would heart respond, how would he word this? mind? i cant word it this way because i know he doesnt do this...' <subconscious questions and thoughts but they are important to keep in mind. i find it the most helpful to keep the core traits i personally see in them in mind, and let those traits kind of... guide what is said. if i think of how that collection of traits and facets would respond to something, the vague concept that creates can then go through the filters of dialogue traits i have in mind for them. ...ehhh, put more simply... 'what is the general response this character would have to this situation' and then 'how would they structure that response through words and/or actions?'.

i, being who i am, cccc being what it is, am somewhat naturally inclined to writing grim and bleeding-brooding (nice word) things. i also consider myself to be quite a grounded person, which i hope comes through in my work! however, natural inclinations aside, cccc itself is quite a bleeding-brooding album (at least it is to me). its one about depression and self hatred and it really doesnt pull many punches in that respect. or at least, thats my read on it! as a result, that becomes reflected in my interpretation of hms. however, id also note that cccc is silly at times, theres humor in it. all good grim things need a bit of levity to really make it feel Real... people joke in the worst of times, not just the best, and it really helps in writing serious things to have just a little bit of joke to it, even if its not immediately noticable... this is hard to really give examples of honestly but it is relevant i promise. im unsure if youve read much of my writing aside from my comics, but theres just a bit of absurdity and humor in both my cccc pieces that would make the writing feel sorely lacking without in my opinion. notable with how violent and tense both those pieces are.

lots of words now! hopefully helpful ones B:•] or at least interesting! ill try write out some of the core traits and details i keep in mind when writing hms so as to give better reference points to all my prior words:

heart: reactive, not instigative. he doesnt start fights, he finishes them. he also doesnt need an insane amount of prompting to get going... but he does need prompting. apathetic, a bit fanciful. hes depressed, and not in a cute way. he talks casually but he uses serious words. no point in simplifying his language - he wants to be taken seriously, and while he makes himself look small and weak at times he is Not weak and he is Not small. hes just as much of a wordsmith as the other two. he covers his mouth when he speaks sometimes, and he puts his hand over his chest... a bit defensive? muffling his own input, but notably he still speaks. lies by omission or by twisting facts - if full honesty helps his case, thats what he uses. if a white lie works better... i personally see him as a bit of a planner too. sometimes his reaction to things is built up to; it never comes out of nowhere, even if it may seem like it.

mind: instigative, less reactive. he still reacts to things but hes generally the one starting shit and hes honestly very bad at Not talking shit. uses contractions. <this is a small one but mind says 'dont' and 'cant' and i dont think ive ever heard him Not use contractions to any notable degree. kind of weak! hes proud of himself, very proud of himself, and even in the moments of the album where theyre getting along he cant drop his superiority complex. hes bad at making compromises that put him as the lesser one. hes also quick to point blame and to lie (even if hes a bit roundabout abt it). hes also not That smart - or at least, hes not any smarter than the other two. he Thinks hes smart and hes quite confident about that but that doesnt actually mean hes right lol. aggressive verbally, passive physically. hypocritical.

both of them tend to see soul as an afterthought, or as something to benefit from. note the 'something', not 'someone'. imo, they dont really see him as a valid living entity in the same way they see themselves. speaking of soul...

soul: hes difficult. hes a difficult and complicated guy. vague, fanciful, depressed, suicidal, tired... i personally see him as quite passive. both passive and active... hes violent, towards himself and towards the others. just as they dont see him as an individual, i believe hes too apathetic and burnt out to see them as individuals either. when he threatens to hang himself, thats a direct threat to the two if them as well - and it functions as one, seeing as they are all linked in that way! his suicidality isnt purely self destructive in the way it would be in other story contexts which i find important to remember. i see him as someone who sleeps a lot... and as someone who is treated more like a tool than anything else. but he is, simultaneously, idealistic. he hopes for the best and would do anything (Anything.) to try and achieve it. he wants things to Get Better or to Stop. most of the time when i write or draw him its within the 'Stopping is the only option to Get Better' stage of things. hes tired and he doesnt want to deal with things but he has to and he doesnt want to and hes at the end of his rope. honestly within the album he feels a bit like a ghost. hes granted a similar level of personhood as the shadow of what could be, which is both more and less than mind and heart get.... hes confusing! hea a difficult guy. honestly you can take a lot of my notes and thoughts on his character with a grain of salt because hes always been such a puzzle to me haha. i find him easiest to convey in art... OH yes one last thought/trait is hes a bit... arrogant? hes tired and hes careless. listen to me or fuck off and die. arrogant. what a guy.

ahaaha this kinda became me just rambling about my reads on the three but.. hopefully helpful!! this is all stuff i try keep in mind when im writing and drawing them. theres certainly nuances ive missed and things i havent worded as well as i could, but you get the idea i hope! all of that informs how i write them and... in a way they almost lead me through the piece.

also! this isnt something i often think about because its just a natural part of the process, but sometimes i end up scrapping stuff! entire paragraphs, panels and poses, because it hits a stasis where i cant find any way for one or the other to continue the interaction - theres a distinct difference between this and the interaction hitting its ending point. if ive written one person saying or doing something and none of the parties involved are able to respond in any way at all, thats a sign that ive conveyed their characters wrong and i need to go back. people *always* have a response to something, whether thats continuing the conversation or leaving or anything. if none of them can come up with a response that feels like them, ive messed up somewhere. dont be afraid to go back and rewrite things.

ummm yeah thats all i can think of to say now! thank you for the question, and thank you for the nice words!! B:•∆ im very happy my comics come off the way youve described, and very happy youve enjoyed my work enough to want to ask me about it!! means a lot to me B:•] your rainworld iterator hms concept sounds swag as hell, id just say to keep at it!! from what youve shown here youve already got a great start B:•∆ thank you again! hope you and anyone else reading this has a good week!

[unriding]

a … a gift from the talented @kruinka 🥹 thank you so much!! ദ്ദി ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ)

[puppppppppy]

i feel like im not making any sense but does anyone else feel like there are stories that let u run with them and ones that spell everything out for you

[xxplastic-cubexx]

ohhh i just know magneto is so pathetic in bed constantly asking charles if he’s making him feel good and charles just praising him like 😌😌😌😌😌😌😌😌😌😌😌😌😌😌😌😌😌😌😌😌😌

THIS IS WHAT I LOG ON TO THIS WEBSITE FOR 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️

[thejawsofmax]

Klance-coded Pierce the Veil songs !!

— i only did 7 songs but i might make a big post with a few songs from each album that make me think of klance (also please be nice to me, this makes more sense in my head and im bad at describing stuff!!!!!)

Caraphernila

“and baby honestly it’s harder breathing next to you”

i think of it as keith and lance’s envy towards each other. they both feel overshadowed by the other without knowing how much they are admired by them

“hold my heart, it’s beating for you anyway”

holding his heart is letting him feel all of his love and emotions, even if it gets crushed. i think this is how keith and lance’s relationship works. lance is literally one of the only people that makes keith feel seen, being able to understand his emotions with barely any words (i think about the scene where everyone just looks over at lance and waits for him to go comfort keith. and lance does so, not even knowing that everyone was expecting him to do it)

“So what if I can't forget you? I'll burn your name into my throat, I'll be the fire that'll catch you”

i think about this as post canon klance. they have left such a big impact on each other’s lives, and then they just go their separate ways??? like no keith is definitely still thinking about lance who’s down on earth. he doesn’t want to forget him and probably never will

Million Dollar Houses (The Painter)

“would you ever try to leave me for somebody who deserves you most”

i think keith would still have some sort of lingering fear that he isn’t enough for lance, despite not actually dating him. so lance “leaving” him for allura in season 8. this can also play on lance’s insecurities, especially when in comparison to keith

“but, baby no, sometimes things don’t work out the way we planned”

OKAY THIS ONE IS DUMB and like kinda generic but it makes me think of how they were doomed by the writers LMAO

“maybe we’re meant to lose the ones we love but i’ll fight for you till then”

both keith and lance have lost a lot during the series’s events but they keep pushing further (especially with the help of each other)

Flawless Execution

“i’ll scar you with my flawless execution every time”

i think about this a lot with black paladin keith + red paladin lance. they are both learning to step up, wanting to prove themselves worthy of their positions.

“i’m not obsessed, far worse, i’m fine” “i didn’t mean to burden you with love in my condition”

this describes someone who’s love is so intense that it’s overwhelming. this is very klance to me because of how deeply connected they are to each other without even knowing it. keith being the person who gives lance the reassurance he needs, and lance being the person who is able to either push keith to do something or pull him back to rationalize his thoughts. THEY CANT LOVE LIKE NORMAL PEOPLE because they are stupid and i hate them

“you and i are blood and wine”

shows how different they are. they’re complete opposites but still somehow complete each other

First Punch

“i’ve got so much to give, but i would kill just to feel less invisible. and you got so much to learn about gravity, so live it up baby don’t look down”

this one is more about lance and his insecurities of being a paladin. although he desperately wanted to use the black lion, (s3 in the ep where they were seeing who the black lion would respond to, lance really hoped it would be him, even sitting in the lion longer than the other paladins did, just hoping it would work) he supported keith and pushed him into stepping into his new role.

the rest of the song is a lot more aggressive and i don’t think it fits keith and lance’s feelings towards each other. like even early season klance doesn’t have the same hatred as in the song but the bridge will always be lance to me

Dive In

“now i wanna be the tattoo ink that swims down through the needle in your skin”

PEAK ROMANCE‼️ i don’t have a lot of reason for this one but being tattoo ink in someone’s skin is like being with someone forever. it makes me think of the permanent scarring there were left with by the end of the series (keith’s face scar after returning to voltron and lance’s altean marks in the finale)

I Don’t Care If You’re Contagious

“And I don't care if you're sick. I don't care if you're contagious. I would kiss you even if you were dead”

this is not really based on any canon content. keith and lance are so deeply intertwined with each other without even knowing it. platonic or romantic, they care about each other. and i have very much think this insane devotion in this song feels like klance core

“I'm gonna tear out the thread one by one from your skin. Till your bones feel embarrassed from all the attention. Kiss me while I drive”

PEAK ROMANCE‼️‼️ this song just generally makes me think of ships i like because this song is full of love and devotion i love it

Even When I’m Not With You

“Even when I'm not with you, I'm still with you”

this always makes me think of when keith and lance get separated. especially when keith leaves voltron, he’s still with lance (especially bc i like to think about keith leaving lance with his red lion, giving lance a little piece of him). this can so be post-canon klance because i know they are still thinking about each other even though they’re off doing their own things

“Even when I think I hate you, I still love you”

even despite any fighting, bickering, and disputes, keith and lance always care about each other, wanting them to be able to work together as a team. especially with black paladin keith!!! lance is always trying to make things work because he’s passionate about voltron’s success (and by further extension, wanting keith to be a good leader)

“Look how far we've come. Think I've finally won”

vic fuentes “think i’ve finally won” is in reference to being able to settle down with his wife. and so like i think about this as klance. by the end of the series, they both got their ending (i don’t like lance’s ending i fear) but they actually are “winning” when they are together

notes: IM SORRY A LOT OF THESE ARE POORLY EXPLAINED :(( but i heart klance and ptv so much

my secret useless talent is that i can make any pierce the veil song be about klance

[ratatatastic]

"what was it like to see ekky drop the gloves and see him just jump in there for you?" [proceeds to say you know and yeah like a lifeline until he can gather his thoughts properly.] "its just cool hes a good guy"

"i appreciate that but you know... yeah i would do the same thing to him"

post practise interview | 11.18.24 (x)

[brofightiscancelled]

ok kind of an insane ask so feel free to ignore but would you be able to translate "友達バリア" by deco*27? i can't find any translations online and i wanna see if i'm right about the song kind of fitting the matsus... it's also a banger imo

- vocamatsu anon

omg.... tbh i have a feeling deco will make a video for this one which means we'll get an official english translation of it, rendering this completely redundant, but i'm really cheesed to have been asked, so i gave it a shot for you anyways <3

Friend-zoned, love fire, sparks flying HIBANA We're ready, set to lock horns, love's ultimate showdown I'm outmatched- but it's not over yet! I won't let this end! With a dazzling, never-give-up attitude, I'll break through your defenses!

The despair of never getting anything more of this Your behavior, nor what's going on in your head- I can't read it at all! I can't help but envy the kindness you radiate Omnidirectional compatibility- it's just not for me

Carefully-picked down-played words The outcome: A bloody heart True feelings double-crossed by embarrassment; how frustrating, I'm changing sides But that won't fill up my heart What I want is nothing more than to be by your side If you've got something to say, then say it- 'til I defeat you, that is! 3, 2, 1!

Friend-zoned, love fire, sparks flying HIBANA We're ready, set to lock horns, love's ultimate showdown I'm outmatched- but it's not over yet! I won't let this end! With a dazzling, never-give-up attitude, I'll break through your defenses!

I want you to like me! I want you to like me! Friend-zoned, love fire, hey, say "I give up"! With a dazzling, never-give-up attitude, I'll break through your defenses!

Fun things, good feelings- without you, they have no taste at all Sadness, jealousy- if they're cuz of you, then I don't mind them Let's throw down, bro! Better to regret doing it, than not doing it at all! A feeling like I won't need any special moves, YEAH I'm sure everything will be OKAY With an endless supply of love, you're undefeated, AYE Play dead, BYE BYE I'll be the one to throw the first punch

Friend-zoned, love fire, sparks flying HIBANA We're ready, set to lock horns, love's ultimate showdown The lonely and timid me is already no more! With a dazzling, blazing flair, I'll burn through your defenses!

Do you like me yet? Do you like me yet? Friend-zoned, love fire, now, let's immerse ourselves in love! With a dazzling, blazing flair, a never-ending HAO sweetener battle!

Do you like me yet? Do you like me yet? Friend-zoned, love fire, now, let's immerse ourselves in love! With a dazzling, blazing flair, a never-ending HAO sweetener battle!

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my notes:

my overall interpretation of this song is "I'm trying to break through the friend zone (friendship barrier) so that you like me instead of thinking of me as a friend", so any vagueness in translation went in that direction

The use of "lock horns" in the official translation snippet + the HAO motifs give me the mental image of like, a hand-to-hand kung fu battle, so I leaned towards that imagery whenever there was vagueness (as opposed to like, a military campaign, for example)

deco's official english translations tend to be very liberal, so i tried to keep my translation a little more literal