#but i need the women to be like. doing things. please. i can deal with the misogyny better if there are women doing things.
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Alright, this post has gotten super big and attracted tons of controversy and weird opinions so I thought I would clarify my position one last time :
No a militarized intervention, be it UN, US or whoever else, isn't a good idea. Bombs are never the answer, violence is never the answer, forcing an enormous change on people who's culture and ideas you don't understand is never the answer.
It seems the Malala Fund is seen as controversial for reasons that are unknown to me at the moment. In the meantime donating to Women for Afghan Women or to RAWA for those who can or want is still a good thing.
No Islam and religions aren't necessarily the problem. I am atheist myself, although raised in Christianity and while I absolutely believe that religion can be used and is used as a weapon in the world today, I do not believe that blaming them (instead of the people fostering an unsafe environment using them) is helpful.
Afghan Women don't necessarily want to live European/US women and that should not be the goal. The goal is for them to be safe, first and foremost, and have a choice as to what they want. The biggest thing that feminism can do is listen to Afghan Women. What do they need ? What can we provide ? They are the ones living in the situation, they know best than anybody.
Afghan Women being part of an Islamic culture doesn't mean that everything happening to them is normal or desired. The Taliban regime arrived by force and rules by force. Their society is not built on solid foundations, and without change it's certain that it won't last long. The problem is the damage they will do until it crumbles, and the damage that will be done while it's happening. The main victim of catastrophes are always the ones at the bottom of the social pyramid and in Afghanistan, it's Women. That's why we're fighting with them.
To clarify : I am against the very idea of a social pyramid. But because it exists, it has to be taken into account when deciding how to deal with things and how to provoke change.
I've had some wild comments about transidenty somehow so : to know if Afghan trans people are in danger, ask Afghan trans people. If you look at what witnesses and refugees are saying, all trans people are in danger. No they're not the danger. No transwomen are not just men trying to touch women by hiding as women. They face the same stigma as any other woman, and can be treated even worse when outed. How did you all decide they were the problem or that Afghan Women could just "become trans" to escape the oppressive regime like. How. Please. What the hell.
Stop being mean. I'm just a person who made a post on tumblr. This post may have gotten big but I still don't have the influence of other bloggers or people reblogging this post. I can't monitor everything. I can't even look at all the reblog because I don't have time. I can't answer everything. If you feel wronged because somebody said something in the reblogs, confront them, not me.
Once again I insist : I tried to educate myself but I can't guarantee I knew where to look and remembered it all correctly. Once again, I am just a random person on tumblr. If you think I should truly know something, you can go to my asks directly, otherwise there's a chance I won't see it. I don't know everything, be kind.
This post was made in the present tense but is in fact about the new law announced recently. Its details are unclear but it would essentially stop women from hearing each other pray (at least in public spaces) and other added things which many fear could lead to a total ban (if the details in the law don't immediately put it in action). As some have pointed out, women are currently still able to speak to each other in Afghanistan, but that may not last long.
I'm not american. Stop bringing the whole "Americans say this because they want to invade" argument, I'm not fucking American. I don't think of myself as a saviour. I don't think of myself as better. I just made a post about an info I saw that was bugging me, and needed to express just how wrong it felt somewhere. Don't assume I have or should have all the answers. I'm not even old enough to vote in my country. Keep that in mind when interacting.
This is one post out of hundreds people will see today. Yes it has an impact, but that doesn't mean it somehow makes me responsible for every single deranged idea somebody may have when seeing this. The average person will just like this post and move on with their lives, whether you think it's good or not. When interacting remember that I can't be expected to carry everything on one post's shoulder, nor that this post will somehow determine how people see Afghan Women for the next 30 years to come.
The amount of comments and people deciding that I was responsible for all of this because I made one fucking post about the subject is making me sick so. This is the last time I interact with my own post. I will stop responding or looking at reblogs and comments. I'll keep this post up because I do hope it reaches somebody who decides to donate or join local action to help but for the sake of my mental health (once again, just a random teenager online) I will not update it any longer.
And please remember that supporting local actions will always be more helpful than arguing with some strangers on the internet
This has been a psa or whatever
Women can't speak to each other in Afghanistan
Women can't speak to each other in Afghanistan
Women can't speak to each other Afghanistan
Women. Can't. Speak. To. Each. Other. In. Afghanistan.
No conversations
No hearing another woman's voice, no hearing her speak or pray
No way to share experiences no way to ask questions no way to organize
And if you ban education then they can't communicate by writing either
Women can't speak to each other in Afghanistan
Women can't communicate with other women in Afghanistan
People can't communicate with other people
That's how low we've gotten
Please don't forget about them.
#afghanistan#feminism#clarifications#what the hell man#I've had people telling me I was somehow directly responsible for people wanting war on afghanistan#or that all muslim people are the problem#go outside#talk to muslim people#talk to afghan people#talk to women#and talk to transgender people#don't just base your opinions on he she said they said#i've made that mistake before and am learning not to do it again#but also I'm not even a fucking adult yet#so keep that in mind when interacting
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
So in terms of what we need to look out for first with the new Trump presidency, I think the first threat to a huge number of people is going to be mass deportation efforts.
One thing to consider about Trump and Project 2025 is that Trump's first priorities will be himself, his money, his power, and his ego. He doesn't care about anyone or anything but himself. He doesn't care about Project 2025. So what comes first will be about his image and what the people who can bribe him the most want.
Immigration is a huge thing with him, tied up in his ego and his racism. All immigrants, even those who have gained US citizenship, are at risk.
If you are an immigrant or have loved ones who are, look up organizations like the Immigrant Defense Project. Find immigrant defense lawyers in your area. Know your rights and which of them will be stripped when he invokes the Alien Enemies Act on 1798. The ACLU and other human rights orgs will be fighting him every step of the way, but prepare for anything. He will be giving ICE a lot more power. He says he won't tag in the military for this but don't believe a word he says, ever.
For the rest of us, if you're looking to help, you can join or revive local groups that work to alert people to ICE arrests and move to intervene. Forming crowds around arrest vehicles has worked many times to stop arrests from happening. That rules.
If you can't or don't want to join an org, get in touch with your immigrant neighbors, coworkers, etc. Start chatting with them, let them know you want them to stay and you're available to help. We must be in community with our migrant neighbors to effectively help them.
Start thinking about what you're willing to do. All the way to do you have an attic or other hidden space in your home where you can hide people? Are you willing and prepared to be arrested? Defying the government puts you at risk of imprisonment, and you need to be prepared for what that means, both in a practical sense and mentally/emotionally.
Speak with your partners, roommates, friends, and comrades about this. Know who is at the most risk to be arrested and what they will likely experience in prison. For example, BIPOC and disabled people are at a much higher risk when dealing with police and ICE agents. Under no circumstances would I recommend trans women/transfemme folks risk jail or prison time. Be prepared to risk sustaining psychological trauma. Draw and maintain the boundaries you need around any activism, resistance, or revolutionary activity.
I'll go more in depth on what migrants have to expect during the first 100 days of the second Trump term in a later post.
Please add more ideas and resources below if you have them, or make your own post and alert me so I can boost.
362 notes
·
View notes
Note
You come home after a long day, your shirt cut just low enough to give idea, but not low enough to give promises.
"No one ever appreciates my mind! I can think and talk circles around people, in any situation, but I keep catching their eyes going to my tits!"
"Under any situation?" an idea forms in my mind...
"Any Situation!" you reply.
"It's a bet, you give a lecture, I try to distract you, if you can continue talking about the subject the entire time, you win. Deal?"
You smile, confident in your mind and will power, and begin to talk.
I begin to work, I first grab your perfect tits through your shirt, groping and pulling at them, you gasp slightly, but continue to talk. Undetered I pull of your shirt and bra, exposing your hard nipples to the air, and begin to play with them, first with my hands pulling and twisting gently, then with my mouth kissing, sucking and biting.
You moan and gasp slightly, but retain your focus. So I move south, pulling down your pants and underwear, exposing your perfect pussy, already wet.
I trail my fingers over and around, rubbing your clit gently, amazed by your focus as you continue to speak between the moans.
My dick is straining against my pants already painfully in the constraint, so I decide to ratchett it up a notch.
I push to your knees, and pull out my cock, level with your mouth. I stick in into you while pause for a breath, and use your mouth as you speak, your tongue motions just make it better as I enjoy the warm wetness of your mouth.
You begin to falter though, your words are coming in broken and I see your hand reaching for your dripping cunt.
I push it way and pull my cock out of your mouth. You eye it hungrily and begin to talk again, before you pause and whisper something.
"What did you say?"
"Please. Please stick your cock in my pussy and use me."
"Get on your knees like the dumb slut you are."
You do so quickly, and I push into you, your wet pussy tight around my cock. I begin to move and you gasp, moan as all thoughts are pushed from your head but one.
"What are you good for?"
You gasp "Nothing but taking in cock."
I thrust harder, loving your moans and mindless cries
"What do you want?" "I want your cum, I want to be filled!"
You are clearly at the edge of orgasm, and I wait until you cum.
Shuddering around my cock, muscles twitching.
I pull out and move so my cock is level with your face.
"Jerk me off until I paint your face with cum. Show the world want a proper cumslut looks like."
You do so eagerly. pulling my shaft and licking my balls until your face is covered.
"Why don't you just stay like that for a while, and maybe next time, I'll empty into your cunt. Would you like that?"
You nod eagerly, even talking takes too much brain power for a poor little fucktoy.
Fuck the start was so so hot and the idea of someone fucking me dumb while I try to be all smart is so hot...I wish I could have someone play with my tits and cunnie as I try to act smart so they could prove the only thing I need to do is to take cock.
With that...I have a thing with people cumming on me. I don't like it. So I didn't like that part, also the face fucking/BJ part wasn't for me, I know some women like that but I only like my pussy used, no ass, mouth, tits, or anything else (only when it's a gangbang kind of situation Yk?)
#attention slvt#attention wh0r3#desperate for attention#cvm in me#give me attention#may3505#please praise me#praise k!nk#cnc free use#cvmdump#cvm wh0re#cvmslut#cvmslvt#fr33use slvt#stupid slvt#women are stupid#mis0gyny kink#men are superior#patriarchy kink#dumbification#dumb slvt#praise kink go brrrr#br33d1ng#bd/sm breeding#breeding k1nk#breeding toy#send me r@pe threats#r@pe threats#r@pe kink#dumb wh0re
24 notes
·
View notes
Text
i read so much more like. romance and shoujo and etc. manga nowadays than i did as a child and i think that's just bc i can't deal with women being nonexistent
#not saying that romance and shoujo don't have misogyny bc by god. they do so so so much#but i need the women to be like. doing things. please. i can deal with the misogyny better if there are women doing things.#nowadays the only reason i read manga/comics with a main male character is if it's BL or a friend directly wanted me 2 read it#thats why im working on solo levelling even tho.......... the misogyny hydra. sighs.#gigi.txt
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
── desperation. ( psh ) 📠
pair: boss!sunghoon ㅊ employee!f!reader | warnings: smut, secret relationship, age gap (sunghoon is 10 years older), semi-public s.x (?), hoon is a needy boi, coercion, quickies, dirty talk, piv, no lube, no protection (don’t be like them!) | words: 1.4k
imagine boss!sunghoon being so needy n desperate for you at all times, he just can’t seem to keep his hands off you.. just needs to cop a feel whenever he can bc he’s that obsessed w you ;( he’s also willing to skip important business meetings just so he can bring you into his office when no one’s around and have you bent over his desk— loving the way your curves hug the work uniform in all the right places..
this is my very first ever post on enhablr !
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
“please?” sunghoon’s desperation grew as time went on, nothing but lust clouding his judgement. he had you pushed up against his desk, caging his arms around the slope of your waist, hindering you from any retaliation, utterly defenseless in his hold.
“i promise i’ll be super quick..!” he pleads even more, pressing wet kisses all over your face, his pouty lips still lingering along the rim of your jaw afterwards. “just need you, so so sooo bad.”
sunghoon has been “negotiating” with you for the past ten-ish or so minutes, playing every trick in the book he possibly can in getting you to fold like a sunday lawn chair for him. what may have prompted all this you wonder ? well, he simply got hard at the sight of you and now you’re the one in ‘trouble’ because he can’t function while being bricked up at work. you two had an odd relationship to say the least… he was your boss, the man you reported to every day and pick up his morning coffee before he arrives at 8 AM sharp, but you also sleep with him sometimes?? (you thought it would be just a one off occurrence but sunghoon wanted it to be a more frequent, fwb type of deal..)
you were seriously hoping that he’d leave you alone today, you had a lot of work that needed to get done within a short timeframe and distractions weren’t going to do you any good, however, you couldn’t just say no to park sunghoon. there were dozens of other women who’d kill to be in your position, they already tried to seduce him one, two many times before— except you of course. you were like the golden employee who always followed orders, listened to directions the first time, and did everything the right way, he’s never really had to reprimand you and even on the rare chances you do mess up, he’d handle it with you in private; just like how he’s doing now.
hell, sunghoon makes it excruciatingly hard to resist him. especially when his breath inched beneath your ear, silky strands of jet black hair tickling your chin as he begs for your touch.
“i told you i was busy— hoon, s-stopp !” you helplessly whine, your mind kept telling you to refuse but your body was saying a completely different story. he knew exactly where to pull the pin, knew just how to make you give in to his not-so-safe-for-work desires.
“oh are we now ?, too busy for me ? what happened to wanting to get that new promotion, huh ?” he cocks his head to the side, turning arrogant all of a sudden now that he can use something as leverage over you. it’s a shame that he has to stoop to such low levels but he’s willing to try whatever method that’ll get him exactly what he wants.
as he whispers in further detail all the naughty things he wants to do to you, your legs were brought to a tight close, wanting nothing more than to relieve the ache you felt between your plush thighs; you feel dirty, disgusting for wanting your boss to fuck your brains out, it’s unprofessional, you shouldn’t be doing this— letting him have access to you whenever he wants almost felt dehumanizing.
though, you be lying if you said he didn't strike a bone in your body, maybe 3, or 4.. 10 at most. hell, maybe even all of them. some days you were able to keep your cool and act as though he had zero effect on you— however, he was just so unable to resist at times. you couldn’t help but be attracted to him; even if he was an asshole sometimes, you secretly liked it in a sick, twisted kind of way. if he was going to play this little game then you may as well play right along, plus you weren't gonna just walk around with soggy panties without getting something in return, right ? right.
“oh ? giving in already, guess you really do want it that bad, huh ?” he smirked childishly as you finally cave in, rubbing up against him, spreading and burying his knee between your thighs.
“shut up, do you wanna? or not ?” so over his annoying little antics, you gradually wiggled your hips against his toned, muscular thighs.
“it’s cute when you act all needy for me.” his hands caressed your waist, taking your leg to his hip, in effect your pencil skirt riding up your thigh.
you felt his clothed dick against your core as he pressed his body against you. sloppily taking your tongue against his.
you've always wondered how this man could get you so hot and sweaty all over a few words. then again, as long as you’re pleased; does it really matter ?
“fuck..” you spoke, hand grabbing at his tie, the melody of his luxury belt being unwrathed gave you a tsunami of chills. “quickly, i have a meeting in..” you checked you wrist, reading the analog watch that sat delicately along your veins. “15.” you heaved heavily, he tugged down your tights physically prepping himself with his hand.
“thats enough time to make me bust twice.” he chuckled. his length entered your puffy, dewy pussy.
“quick busser !” you laughed, knowing it'd strike a chord within whenever you tease him.
taking your ass in his hands before he paces himself. “you love when my dick coats your pussy in a thick coat. so, suck it.” he groaned, kissing onto your collarbone to keep himself quiet.
his office wasn't what people would call sound proof, but at a good distance from the door, nobody could be able to hear you. but keeping you quiet would deem to be the most difficult part.
sunghoon bear hugged you keeping you tight against him, he thought fucking you in your work attire, especially your tights, had to be the sexiest shit to dance on this earth. it's honestly why he's here. the way the thin black fabric wrapped around your thighs, he could just picture your sloppy pussy, wrapping around him. balls deep. and you took him so. so. so. well.
“ugh, yesyesyes..” your ragged breathing swam through his ears, giving him an ounce more of stamina. “shit !” your clit throbbed at his lower abdomens slight back to back friction, you grind up onto him, to feel more of that reminiscing release edging you.
he nibbled at your lips before taking them against his. “shut the fuck up. you dont— hell..wanna get caught do you ?” he swatted your thigh, thrusting himself at a slower, but rougher notion.
“fe—feel so good, nggh.. hoon..” you whispered, biting at his ear.
your forehead glistened with sweat, the buttons of your shirt leaving your perky breasts opposed and exposed. you threw your head back at the pulsating between the two of you, you could feel him. throbbing, and hardening inside of you, and it turned you way the fuck on. just as your pussy throbbed against his hard.
“c'mon mama.. you wanna drench your boss’s cock? huh ?.. wanna make it all gooey with your cum ?” he pushed you closer and closer with his words, as if him ramming into you wasn't enough.
“yes.. wan' make it gooey, baby !” you whispered under your breath. throwing your head back, leaving your boobs to bounce under the escaping light of his blinds.
“then cum, be a good girl..” sunghoon’s breath quickened, he was near the edge himself, if not on it.
the two of you, moaning into each other's lusty mouths, aching for more. your groans becoming quickened and hoarse as the burning knot in your stomach leaves you in discomfort. until a strong stroke came to pop that growing bubble inside you, releasing you of all your numbness. you came onto his thickness.
sunghoon, lost it at the feel of you tightening around him, lays you down onto the desk, pushing down on your stomach. he could feel himself through passing through your entrance. just thinking about it, left him blissful.
“fuck, fuck ! 's fuckin' right, squeeze me baby..” he finally broke, leaving all his pellent inside of you, slowly pumping himself a few more times before sliding out. his figure, breathing heavily, leaning onto your heaving chest.
you could hear him chuckling after awhile of comfortable silence. “looks like you're gonna be late for your meeting miss. y/n.”
“you so owe me.” you glare up at him as if this was all his fault.
“i do ?” he kissed your tummy.
“yeah, you do actually.”
“and what may that be?” he raises his brow, pushing up his thin framed glasses.
“a real date.”
“can i take you back to my place after ?” he kissed your tummy through your shirt once more.
“deal.” you grinned, catching your breath.
you were a dirty mess. a mess that sunghoon, had absolutely no problem with cleaning up.
#enhypen smut#sunghoon smut#sunghoon scenarios#enhypen scenarios#enhypen drabbles#sunghoon drabbles#sunghoon x reader#enhypen x reader
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Not me imagining medic reader who acts weird around Ghost.
At first everyone thinks that you’re just weirded out. 6’4 wall of a man in a skull mask. His eyes covered in black makeup and eyes such a deep brown they’re almost black. Anyone in their right mind would be on edge.
But then as time progresses it doesn’t stop. You don’t ease up no matter how many times you’ve been around Ghost. Eventually the 141 begins to suspect something much more sinister.
Theories of knowing something about Ghost you shouldn’t. Are you working for Makarov and worried? Your eyes never leave him anytime he enters a room. Your voice wavering anytime he asks you a question. You’re not like that with the others. You’re hiding something. And they know it.
Johnny is the one you’ve gotten closest to in the 141. The one who wants to believe you’re not a traitor. You’re Birdie for Christ’s sake. Their bird, as they call you. You couldn’t be betraying them. He’s able to convince the guys to let him get you drunk. See if you slip up.
It’s a quiet night on base. Johnny had manage to get flavored vodka imported. Enticing you to come have a drink in his barracks.
And boy, do you.
You get too tipsy to notice how off Johnny seems. How his voice is softer, more alluring. You also down notice the phone face down on the table, serving as a live walkie-talkie between him and the others listening in Price’s office.
Johnny and you bullshit around. Talking about F1 racing, the need for more help in the medbay and even what your plans are when you get back home.
Eventually, he can’t take it anymore. He needs to know.
“What’s your deal with the Simon?” He finally asks. His question grants you pause, almost instantly sobering you up. Johnny sees it in your eyes. His heart breaking because he begins to believe he was wrong.
“Hen,” his hand grabs yours, when you don’t say anything. “I know something is going on.” You try and pull away but he doesn’t let go.
“Have-” you begin, trying to figure out how to tell him. Johnny is your friend. He wouldn’t care. But you fail to come up with the words. “Fuck.”
“Please.” He begs. “You know you can tell me.” You wait. Contemplating if you should tell him. But then it could mean losing any respect you had earned with them.
“You can’t judge me.” You made him promise, tears beginning to well in your eyes.
“I won’t.” He promises, offering a squeeze of reassurance. He knew that the moment you confessed to whatever it was you were hiding, the team would be in there. He knew what would happen to you. And although there were no romantic feelings he held toward you, he still cared.
You took a deep breath.
“It’s the mask.” You confessed. “It’s hot.” Now it was Johnny’s turn to pause.
The mask?
“What?” He asked in disbelief, pulling his hand off of yours. “What do you mean it’s hot?” “You’re worried that he’s sweating underneath it.”
“I want to fuck him.” It felt like a weight lifted the moment your confession of lust escaped your lips.
Johnny sat there, knowing his Captain, fellow Sergeant and, most importantly, his Lieutenant were listening on the other end of the phone.
“Simon.” he clarified. “Ye want to fuck Simon.”
“I mean if he keeps the mask on.” You shrug, looking at his bewildered expression. “It’s a kink, Johnny. Some people like feet or being led around on a dog leash.” You down the rest of the sweetened liquor, cringing as the last sip makes your stomach flip. “Men in masks do it for me. It’s a thing now. Lots of women like it.”
He doesn’t say anything. The room filled with uncomfortable silence until he breaks out in laughter.
“If you say anything, I will murder you and we both know I can make it look like an accident.” You threaten.
“Feckin’ hell.” He sighs, wiping tears from his eyes. “This isn’t how I expected the conversation to go.”
“Well,” you say standing, needing a moment to get your bearings. “It’s also over. I’m calling it a night.”
“I’ll walk ye back to yer room.” He says standing.
“No need.” You wave off. “I’m good.”
He knows you’re right. But now guilt eats away at him for even thinking you were a traitor. So he lets you go, listening to the sound of your footsteps fading as you walk down the empty corridor.
Several minutes later the others join him in his barracks. None of them saying something until, Johnny looks at Simon.
“Looks like the little Bird has a thing for you, Lt.”
Simon rolls his eyes.
Thankful that his mask is hiding his shit eating grin.
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
On Top
Young!Coriolanus Snow x Fem!Plinth!Reader
Warnings - Smut, Penis in vagina sex, Cunnilingus, Squirting, Abortion is mentioned once, Angst with a happy ending. Not beta read :0
Authors Note - I think this is the first time I’ve written p in v sex so please bear with me.
Standing in front of the door to the Snow residence, you made sure you had everything. The basket you brought over for Coriolanus and his family was filled with food, gifts, and roses for Grandma’am. You wanted to celebrate Coriolanus’s historic win in this year's Hunger Games. Well, Lucy Grey won, but she wouldn’t have done without your Coriolanus.
Your knuckles tapped the door three times and you patently waited until the door opened to reveal Grandma’am’s signature snow-white hair. She smiled at you and embraced you. She stepped aside and let you enter the home you had become so familiar with over the years.
“Grandma’am, I wanted to bring this little gift for Coriolanus’s big win. The flowers are for you, by the way,” you winked and placed the basket on the table. “Speaking of, where might he be.”
Grandma’am's eyes softened at your comment. “He’s with the dean,” she said, “He will be here any moment. You can wait for him in his room if you’d like.” Grandma’am rushed over to examine a particularly pretty white rose.
You sat on Coriolanus’s bed tracing hearts on his pillow for what seemed like hours before his door opened. He looked frantic as if someone found out something they weren’t supposed to find.
“Come on, Coryo, you’re supposed to be smiling. Lucy Grey won. Aren’t you happy?”
“I cheated,” he sighed.
Your heart stopped. He what? Never in a million years did you think that he would do such a thing. With strong women like Tigris and Grandma’am raising him, you would have thought that he had the decency to break up with a woman before he did that.
Coriolanus shook his head as soon as he realized that you might have been taking his comment in the wrong way. “I cheated in the games. Not on you. I would never do that.”
Your body relaxed and then it shot back up again. “Wait, what do you mean you cheated in the games? Is that even possible?”
Coriolanus explained what he did in order to get Lucy Grey to win. The compact mirror that used to belong to his mother had been packed with rat poison, poisonous to anyone who came in contact with it. He also put his father's handkerchief which was covered in Lucy Grey's scent in the snake's cage. If the snakes were familiar with her scent then they wouldn’t kill her. So it wasn’t her singing that saved her, it was Coriolanus.
“What are they going to do to you?” Your eyebrows scrunched together with worry. You couldn’t lose Coriolanus for his stupid, yet chivalrous actions.
“I don’t know yet. I don’t want to think about the future. Right now, I want to live in the moment with the prettiest girl in all of Panem.” Coriolanus smiled at how your face heated up so quickly, but deep down he was hurting. He knew what his punishment was. Twenty years of service as a peacekeeper in the Districts. He would leave the Capital and everything he’s known since he was a baby. That he could deal with, but losing you would be the hardest thing he would have to deal with.
He knew that you would run to your father and beg him to get Coriolanus out of serving, but he didn’t want you over-exhausting your father's resources. He was a big boy and he needed to learn how to deal with his consequences. He would be fine. After all, Snow lands on top.
He wanted to live in this moment with you. He wanted to memorize every inch of your body. He wanted to hold onto that memory and make it last.
Your smile calmed him. “Can I kiss you?” he asked, eyes focused on your lips.
You nodded your head and smiled into the kiss. It was soft and sensual, vastly different from the kisses that the two of you usually share. Your lips brushed together as your bodies got closer to each other. By the time the two of you broke apart, you were under him, his forearms caging you underneath him. There was no need for him to do that. This is where you wanted to be, with Coriolanus. The toxic and tyrannical world that you lived in was long forgotten as she swooped in for another kiss.
His lips traveled down to your cheek, then your jaw, and settled on your neck. He spent the majority of his time kissing and nibbling at the skin on your neck. There would be pretty little marks on your skin later, reminding people that you belonged to him. Coriolanus doesn’t remember when he got this territorial, but he sure loved the fact that Strabo Plinth’s beautiful daughter was his girlfriend. His girlfriend to mark and fuck and love whenever he wanted (with your consent of course.)
You laughed as Coriolanus licked the sensitive patches of skin that he nibbled raw. “My parents are going to kill me when they see what you’ve done.”
Coriolanus kissed your lips one more time in response to your comment. He then resumed his exploration of your body. His hands traveled down to the hem of your shirt, lifting it up to reveal the bra that he unclasped in less than five seconds. He threw it on the floor of his bedroom, letting it get hooked onto the pile of books in the corner.
Coriolanus kissed in between the valley of your breasts. He flicked his tongue over your sensitive nipples. It was cold in the Capital of Panem and unfortunately, the Snow’s didn’t have indoor heating. Maybe it was because they didn’t want to melt.
You sighed in pleasure as Coriolanus continued to explore your breasts. After five minutes of teasing, he began to travel south to the part where you needed him the most. He hooked his fingers into the belt loops of your pants, “may I?”
You nodded, “Ever the gentleman.”
With your permission, he ripped your pants off of you and threw them on the floor. They were lost in the pile of clothing that had gathered on the floor. Coriolanus had shed some of his clothing as well. His ripped body was adorned in nothing but his white underwear.
Coriolanus spread your legs apart, “Look at how wet my girl is.” He traced a finger down the cotton of your underwear and slowly slid it up your legs. He wanted to drag this on as much as possible. You let out a grumble of frustration, getting tired of his constant teasing. Coriolanus gave in and got rid of your underwear.
The same finger that was used to skim the fabric of your underwear was now being used to gather your slick and spread it across your sensitive pussy. You took a deep breath of air into your lungs. The feeling was new, but not unwelcomed. Coriolanus flicked his tongue over your sensitive clit. Your clit was pulsing with need. You needed Coriolanus to drop the act and eat you out like he was a starving man.
“Coriol-” Your word was cut off by a moan as his mouth did exactly what you wanted it to do. Coriolanus delved into your pussy, tracing shapes onto your clit with his tongue. Your back arched off of the bed again. Coriolanus’s fingers teased your hole, trying to find the perfect time to ease into your channel.
Coriolanus’s fingers weren’t thick, but they were long making it easier for him to tease your G-spot. He fucked his fingers in and out of you as he sucked your clit. You had to bite your lip in order to keep quiet. Your lips were sure to be chewed raw after this, but they would serve as a reminder that you had a man who was willing to do this for you. Many high-society women told stories about their husbands not pleasuring them when they had sex. It sounded like a horrible life to lead, but they were rich and beautiful so they needed to sacrifice something.
Coriolanus curled his fingers up, letting them knock against your G-spot. He continued to kiss and lick at your clit. You were close. By the way you were clenching down on his fingers, he could tell that the waterworks were coming. Your naked chest rose and fell as you played with your nipples, increasing the pleasure that you felt. Your head fell even deeper into the pillow as a chill ran down your body. That chill eventually led to where Coriolanus was currently still working. He ate your pussy like a starved man, just the way you liked it.
Without warning, your juices painted Coriolanus’s face. He wasn’t surprised that you came so fast. The last time you had sex was two months ago. You were burning for him and he was burning for you.
Coriolanus wiped his face with the back of his hand and laughed. That was the first time he had actually made you squirt. It had always been a personal goal of his after Tirgis explained to Coriolanus how a woman's body works. At first, he was traumatized. He didn’t want to have the sex talk with his dear cousin, but when he laid eyes on you for the time, he wanted to do everything Tigris said and more.
His cock was hard. You could see the outline of it through his white underwear. You would tease him about his tighty whities later. Right now, you were laser-focused on the fact that Coriolanus hooked his thumbs under his waistband and lowered them, exposing his cock to the cold air. His hard cock slapped against his lower stomach. He jerked his cock off, spreading his precum all over his length. He wanted to make sure that it went in as smoothly as possible. The last thing he wanted was to hurt you.
He lined himself up at your core. He slid his tip up and down your pussy, gathering your slick with his dick before he pushed into you. Your insides welcomed him with little to no problem. The stretch felt good. You were all slicked up and ready for him.
Contraceptives weren’t a problem for you. Coriolanus was always careful and made sure to come somewhere that wasn’t your vagina. You didn’t want to have a kid just yet. First, you wanted to study at the University and travel back to District Two if you were given the chance. Then you wanted to get married. Pereferabbly to Coriolanus, but you didn’t know if that was possible yet. With his fate still undecided, your plans to marry the love of your life dwindled. Besides, even if you were to get pregnant your father would have enough money to get you an abortion
Coriolanus’s head fell forward as he buried his cock in your tight pussy. Two months and he had forgotten how good you felt. Your insides fluttered around him as he bottomed out.
Coriolanus began to thrust his cock in and out of you. He was methodical with everything he did. Coriolanus set a rhythm as he fucked into you. He fucked you hard and fast. The side of his bed slapped against the wall and his mattress cracked and groaned as he fucked into you. You prayed to the heavens that Grandma’am and Tigris were in a deep sleep. Or that the walls of the Snow residence were thicker than Coriolanus’s cock.
Coriolanus peppered your mouth with kisses in order to muffle your moans. He kept his pace as he did this. Your breasts jiggled as he fucked into you. Your hands found their way down to your extra-sensitive clit. You circled it with your fingers and moaned in pleasure at the feeling.
His balls slapped against your ass as his strokes became more deep and labored. He was going to come soon. He needed to come soon. He couldn’t hold on much longer. Two months with no sex had gotten to him. “Fuck,” he said under his breath as your pussy clenched around him. “Where do you want it?” He asked, his voice was strained from trying to keep his composure.
“Inside me,” you said. You were close too, the feeling of your finger frantically rubbing your clit and the feeling of Coriolanus's cock buried deep inside of you spurred your orgasm to come out from the woodwork.
You have come a second time, your pussy fluttering and squeezing Coriolanus cock that was still inside of you. A string of curses fell from Coriolanus’s lips as he came inside of you. His pulsing and throbbing cock pushed his come deep inside of you as he continued to fuck you as he came. His thrusts were slow but intentional. He would have lasted a few more seconds, but with the way that your pussy squeezed his sensitive cock, he came instantly.
Coriolanus slowly eased his cock out of you. The both of you were breathing heavily as Coriolanus went to grab a towel from his closet. He eased your legs open one more time as he cleaned you up. He was slow and gentle with it. He knew that you were still sensitive after two orgasms.
His come eased out of you and onto the towel. The sight almost caused him to get hard, but he didn’t feel like tiring you out even more.
Once he was done cleaning you up, he tucked you into his chest and covered the two of you with the blankets on his bed. He kissed your forehead and your cheek. Coriolanus’s love language was kissing. He loved kissing you. He loved doing anything with you, but kissing was his favorite.
Your eyes closed, but you weren’t falling asleep. Not yet. Sex might have been a clever distraction, but now that you were coming off your high you needed to know what will happen to the future of your relationship.
“Coryo, what is going to happen to you? I know that you know what your punishment is. I'm not stupid.”
Coriolanus sighed as he tried to keep his voice from waving. He rarely cried, but in moments like these, he did. Just you and him shielded away from the rest of the Capital were his favorite. “Twenty years as a peacekeeper.”
You let out a shuddering breath as you tried not to cry. Your body ran cold as you repeated those words in your mind. Twenty years as a peacekeeper. Twenty years without your Coriolanus. Your Coryo.
“My dad can-”
“No,” Coriolanus said. “I don’t want your dad to get me out of this one. I need to learn how to do things on my own.”
“What if I had a crazy elaborate plan to get you out of it?”
“Nothing could be crazier than this.” Coriolanus got this crazy idea. It has been sitting in the back of his mind ever since you agreed to be his girlfriend. “Marry me?”
This isn’t how he wanted to propose to you. He had already gotten your father's approval months ago. You were perfect for him and you deserve a perfect proposal. He wanted to take you to a fancy restaurant, get down on one knee, and ask you that way. Traditional and expected of Capital people, but things never go as planned when you’re a Snow.
“Seriously?” You were in disbelief. Of course, you wanted to marry him, but this all seemed a bit rushed. “I mean, yes, I’ll marry you, but Coryo. You’re about to leave.” Then, your brilliant mind comes up with the perfect plan.
You’ll marry Coriolanus, making him one of the heirs to the Plinth fortune. Thus making him more valuable to the Capital. This way you get to marry the love of your life and keep him within arms reach. Were you being possessive? Maybe, but it was better than the dean having to deal with an angry Plinth.
And your plan worked. You and Coriolanus got married a week after he proposed to you. It was a bit rushed, but the two of you were ready. He was going to be a loving husband, and you, a loving wife. Coriolanus’s punishment would be reduced to two months of training in District Two. He would then return to the Capital as a peacekeeper. He would keep the peace during the day and return to you at night.
Turns out Snow does land on top.
---------------------
Time to study up on straight people sex!
#coriolanus snow smut#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus snow fanfiction#young coriolanus snow#coriolanus snow x you#coriolanus snow#coriolanus x reader#the hunger games
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
buried alive | S.R.
in which the BAU races against the clock to rescue you from a killer team
who? spencer reid x fem!BAU!reader
category: angsty
content warnings: kidnapping, case stuff (murder yk), suffocation, being buried alive, hospitals, blood, nausea, CPR, funerals, use of pet names, guns, and drugs. i think that's all.
word count: 2.9k
a/n: okay, so i've been reading so much spencer fanfic and i started writing it and yesterday i realized i have 20 fics written and they're doing no one any good just sitting on my computer. i decided to finally try posting one. i wrote fanfic in high school (so like seven years ago) but this is my first time writing for a TV show. i've also never really posted on tumblr so please bear with me while i try to figure out formatting. tysm for checking out my post.
part two part three
You walked into the conference room and dropped the file on the table, allowing it to land on the wood with a satisfying splat. “The unsub’s burying them alive,” you said, letting the rest of the team know the conclusion you had come to with the medical examiner. “The M.E. found metal shavings and satin threads under the nails of our last victim. The most common materials to make up a casket.”
“There’s no way someone could bury someone alive in a casket alone, we’ve got to be dealing with a team, at least three people,” Emily concluded, standing in front of the evidence board.
It was the team’s third day on a case in Nebraska, four women had been discovered dead. Asphyxiation by hypoxia. Carbon dioxide poisoning.
“Approximately 420 people in the United States die from accidental carbon dioxide poisoning every year,” Spencer said, grabbing the file off of the table and flipping through it, taking a few seconds to read through it.
Rossi looked over Reid’s shoulder to look at the file, “but there’s nothing accidental about these deaths. Who would have access to these caskets?”
You shook your head, placing a hand on the back of Spencer’s chair, “A funeral director seems most likely.” You looked around at the Omaha field office, different agents running about in an attempt to solve these very murders. “They’d have the most access, write it off as displays. It could be hard to match the materials since they’re so common.”
Hotch leaned over the table and pressed the conference phone, “What can I do you for?” Garcia’s bright voice rang through the speaker.
“Garcia, I need you to look into funeral homes within the comfort zone. Look for a director who’s ordered more caskets than they’ve had funerals. Find anything, nothing is too small.” He told her.
“Absolutely, I’ll hit you back when I’ve got something,” she said, hanging up the phone.
There ended up being four funeral homes in the unsub’s comfort zone, so the team split up. You went with two locals to a family-owned business, Garcia had sent you all of the files you’d need on the location. “It looks like the Varn family has been in the funeral business since the seventeenth century,” you read aloud to the two agents you were in the car with.
“Does it mean they’re more or less likely to be the killers if they’ve been in business for so long?” One of the agents asked you, a younger man named Harrison.
You pursed your lips as you continued to look over the files, “I’m not seeing any glaringly obvious stressors before the murders started, but over the years I’ve learned that’s no reason to write someone off. Psychopaths can be tipped off by the slightest thing. Things none of us would bat an eye at.”
Harrison nodded in the passenger seat, looking over to his partner Jimmy, “You and your guy sure do make an interesting pair.”
“I’m going to take that as a compliment, so thank you.” You and Spencer never explicitly stated to the field office that you were dating, but you walked into the precinct this morning holding hands. The agents must have drawn their own conclusions.
The younger officer cleared his throat, “It is a compliment, ma’am. The two of you are very impressive, your whole team is.”
You smiled, “Thank you, Harrison.”
The funeral home was run by a mother and her two sons, you held up your credentials for the mother when you knocked on the door. “Are you Sheila Varn?” You asked her, raising your eyebrows.
“Yes, what’s this about?” She inquired. She didn’t really look the part of a serial killer, a middle-aged woman who was running her family business.
Pocketing your credentials, you spoke, “We’re investigating the recent murders in the area and we were wondering if you had samples of the materials your caskets are made out of. Might we be able to come in?” You asked, adding a charming smile for effect.
Something flashed across her face before she returned your smile, opening the door and welcoming the three of you inside. “Hold on, let me get my boys up here. They’re so much more versed in the goings on of the town than I am,” she said, opening the door and calling for her sons. Felix and Joss came up the stairs from the basement, now they definitely had the physique to load dead women into caskets and bury them alive.
“Why don’t you two men come with me? I’ll get you those samples,” Sheila said, motioning for the agents you were with to follow her. To your horror, they followed her around the corner. “Felix, Joss, show this young lady what you know,” she instructed.
You took a deep breath before you looked up at the two men.
They were tall, maybe Spencer’s height, but they were built like wrestlers. There was no way you could physically subdue them on your own.
You passed out before you even had the chance to pull your gun.
Hotch was in full Unit Chief mode, Spencer watched from the corner of the room as he separated people into groups and gave them specific instructions. JJ and Morgan walked into the precinct, “What’s going on?” JJ asked looking around the room.
“The Varn Family is the team; two agents were found drugged on the side of the road and when we went to the funeral home Y/N was missing. Her badge, gun, and phone were all there, covered in blood,” Spencer said morosely, watching as Hotch finished giving orders and called the rest of the team over.
Your picture was up on the evidence board with the word “missing” written in bold letters beneath it. All of your belongings had been put into evidence for the time being. “Reid?” Hotch said his name, causing his head to snap up. “Are you okay to keep working?”
Spencer nodded affirmatively, “Yes.”
“Good, I need you to estimate how much time we have, I want a clock on these screens,” he ordered.
Morgan turned to Reid, “What do you think she has, kid?”
“The tidal volume for the average adult is point five at rest. That ends up being about six liters per minute. The average casket is approximately 886 liters in total volume and the average volume of the human body is 66 liters, leaving 820 liters to be filled with air for her to breathe. If she’s been gone for half an hour already, I’d estimate she has less than five hours of breathable air left.” Spencer explained, doing all of the math in his head while Emily put a timer on the screen next to the evidence board.
After a moment, Hotch continued, “Rossi, JJ, go back to the funeral home. Tear it apart, there has to be something there we haven’t found yet. The rest of us will split the list of cemeteries in the comfort zone and search them.”
“That’s a lot of ground to cover, we don’t have anything else to go on?” Morgan asked, looking at the list of burial sites he had been handed.
Hotch looked at Spencer, but Spencer stayed silent. “That’s all we have right now,” Hotch responded, “hopefully we’ll come across leads as we go.”
It smelled like a garden around you. The memory reminded you of spring with your mother, tending to the vegetable garden.
The only difference was that instead of the sun beaming down on you, it was pitch black. The space surrounding you was so dark that you weren’t totally sure your eyes were open.
Your head was throbbing just above your right temple, and you observed your surroundings. Slowly, you lifted your arm until it hit a ceiling.
Not a ceiling. A lid. You were in a casket. You pressed one hand to your chest and tried to slow your breathing. Chances were that the casket was already buried beneath the surface of the earth, trying to open it could be catastrophic. You patted the pockets of your jeans, only to find your phone missing, so the team wouldn’t be able to trace the location.
Even if you had it, there likely wouldn’t be service six feet under.
Your team would find you. They had to find you.
They found Spencer, they found Emily, and they would find you.
Spencer shifted in the passenger seat of the SUV, “You know, carbon dioxide poisoning is a rather peaceful way to die.”
“Reid,” Morgan said, turning the vehicle onto the main road, they had just finished scouring over another cemetery with still no sign of you.
He sighed and stared at his hands, “No, it’s good. We see so many people killed in so many different ways that it’s good that she won’t be in pain when she runs out of air.” He tried to convince himself.
Morgan cleared his throat, “We aren’t out of time yet, kid. We can still find her. Y/N’s smart, I’m sure she found a way to make more air or something.”
But they were running out of time, less than an hour remained on the timer set on all of their phones.
They pulled into the next cemetery, “There’s some fresh dirt over there, what are the names on the graves of people who were actually recently buried?”
Spencer starts to recite the names, and the two of them start to comb through the cemetery.
You had done enough research on this case to understand what was going on. The light-headed feeling had started not long ago, but now you felt like you were spinning, despite the knowledge that you were stuck in place.
It was a high. Not unlike the good kids high. Except instead of trying to chase a feeling, you were dying.
The timer went off when they were still scouring graves, shovels in hand. Derek stopped in his tracks, but Spencer kept going.
“Wait,” Spencer called out, reading the name on the card next to the fresh grave he was standing at, he moved to start digging. “Essie Dunbar was a thirty-year-old woman who was mistakenly buried alive in 1915,” he said, digging. “This has to be it.”
Derek called Hotch, putting the call on speakerphone so he could help Spencer dig. “Hotch, we got her, but she’s buried.”
“We’re on our way, Omaha police have one of the brothers in custody,” Hotch told Emily to have an ambulance dispatched.
What Reid knew that Derek didn’t was that it could take four hours to dig a grave by hand. The soil had been overturned, so maybe call it three. Your odds were still negligible. He didn’t stop, he didn’t stop when a caretaker came running at them, and he didn’t stop when Derek told him to get his digging equipment out here now.
Derek flashed his FBI badge to get what they needed. He had to physically pull Spencer back from the grave so the backhoe could dig, only going until there was less than a foot between them and the casket.
Spencer crudely attached a chain to the casket and the caretaker's vehicle. Carefully, the caretaker dragged the white container out of the earth and up a slant they had dug. It was locked shut, “Reid, move,” Derek ordered.
He leaned back and Derek fired at the lock, taking it off and opening the casket. Spencer gasped, there was blood on the side of your head, dried and raked through your hair. He was vaguely aware of Hotch and Emily arriving as they pulled you out of your satin prison. You had no pulse, but you were still warm. Immediately, Spencer started CPR.
“Reid let me do it,” Derek insisted.
What he was trying to say is that he shouldn’t have to be the one to try to save your life.
Morgan repeated himself and Spencer pulled away, allowing the other agent to immediately take over. There was a siren in the background, an ambulance. More people showed up, Spencer heard their voices, but he just kept watching you. CPR was effective if it was done shortly after your heart stopped, and even then, permanent brain damage was likely.
It had been eight minutes since they pulled you out of the ground. Clinically, you were dead for eight minutes before you gasped.
Spencer smoothed your hair back, away from your face, while you desperately tried to catch your breath. You weren’t moving, and Spencer started running through symptoms of hypoxia. His biggest fear was brain damage, that they had done more harm to you in bringing you back than they would have had you died.
The EMTs came running over to where everyone had gathered, dispersing the crowd, and placing an oxygen mask over your face. As they were loading you on the stretcher, you started trying to talk, reaching your arm out to your side. “Wait, what’s she saying?” JJ asked.
“Sometimes it’s hard to talk after CPR,” the male EMT said as they moved you closer to the ambulance. He listened to what you were saying, “It’s not coherent.”
Spencer didn’t move, all of the adrenaline that had been coursing through his body all day was leaving.
Aphasia. They were saying the lack of oxygen to your brain was causing aphasia. “No,” Emily said, realization dawning on her features as she strained to listen to you. You were whispering, rasping the same word over and over again. “She’s saying ‘Spence.’”
He stood quickly and looked at you, sure enough, you were reaching out your hand and whispering, “Spence, Spence.” Your voice no more than a whisper.
Grabbing your hand, Spencer squeezed it, “I’m here,” he answered. “It’s okay, it’s over,” he told you, moving your hair out of your face. Spencer secured your oxygen mask over your face as you tried to take it off, “You have to keep this on, angel.”
To his relief, you squeezed his hand back.
You had been instructed to get some rest, but you couldn’t close your eyes. You asked Spencer to go back to the hotel and change his clothes because he smelled like dirt, and it made you nauseous. Your head had been bandaged, you’d been run through an MRI, and you did an EEG, so far, the only brain damage that had been incurred seemed temporary.
According to the doctors, the nausea and fatigue should wear off, but they hadn’t been able to fully assess if any permanent damage was done. At this point, the worst of your injuries had been caused by being given CPR, resulting in cracked ribs.
Despite your headache, you kept most of the lights on in your hospital room, not quite ready to be left in the darkness again. “Hey,” a voice called from your doorway, Spencer stood, waiting to be invited in. He was wearing different clothes, a button-up with a green cardigan thrown over it, and clean pants. “How are you feeling?”
A nasal cannula slightly restricted your movement, but you were sat up in the hospital bed, “Better than I was, but not perfect.”
He shook his head, walking in and taking a seat next to you, “No one expects you to be perfect right now.” Gently, he reached out and took your hand, skimming the pad of his thumb over your knuckles. “They found the mother and the other son, and all three of them are going to go away for a long time,” he told you, speaking in the kind of hushed, reverent tones that are reserved for hospitals.
You sighed and tilted your head back, “Good,” you maundered. “That’s uh, good,” your voice was barely audible.
“So why do you look so worried?” He asked, leaning in closer to you.
In an attempt to dismiss his concern, you joked, “I think I owe Morgan some sort of life debt now.”
Spencer offered you a soft smile, “The two of you tend to trade those off, I’m sure you’ll find some way to make it up to him.” He inclined his head towards you as if to silently say, So what is it really?
You swallowed thickly, “I’m scared to close my eyes, Spence.”
His shoulders dropped, “oh, Angel,” he breathed. “Is there anything I can do for you?” He asked, looping a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. “Wait, what are you doing?” He asked, watching you as you lifted yourself, so you were on one side of the bed.
Shyly, you patted the new empty half of the bed, inviting him to sit next to you.
He had no choice but to comply, he had the hardest time saying no to you. Leaning the bed back slightly, Spencer kicked off his shoes before he laid down next to you, wrapping an arm around you as you set your cheek on his shoulder.
Your body relaxed into his and you sighed, “Spence?” You murmured.
He pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of your head, “Yes, angel?” He whispered back to you.
“Thanks for coming to save me,” you mumbled, slowly relaxing enough to fall asleep.
Spencer exhaled, “I’m always going to come to save you.”
part two
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction#aaron hotchner#emily prentiss#jennifer jareau#derek morgan#penelope garcia#spencer reid fanfic#criminal minds fanfic#spencer reid angst#spencer reid hurt/comfort#spencer reid x you#h writes (hypothetically)
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
Astro Observations pt 2
1.If you have sun conjunct ascendant//sun in 10th house, people might really see who you really are or your real personality maybe visible to people you choose to interact with.
2. People who's sun and mercury match, they more than most of the time, say what they really mean
3. People who have Sag sun/stellium usually have a strong liking for some kind of mainstream media, like kpop? football? bollywood?
4. The sign of your fifth house can influence how you like spending your leisure time. Example:
Capricorn 5th house might like cleaning as a form of relaxing or spending their free time
Leo 5th house might want entertainment or hanging out with a group of friends, social circles
Gemini 5th house might like scrolling the internet or talking about their favourite shows and dramas
Pisces 5th house might like day dreaming or doodling or creative working
Libra 5th house might put make up on just because, or doing a whole self care routine
Taurus 5th house might just lay in bed and sleep? lol maybe cook something or play some instrument if they please.
5. Jupiter is said to expand. People who may have sun conjunct Jupiter may have huge sense of self or awareness of identity, which is really good in a world where people try to tell you who you are. However, this needs to be checked so it does not turn into a huge ego
6. Sagittarius women could really like dancing
7. 8th house stellium could deal with sleep paralysis or insomnia or some kind of mental health related problem at some point in their life for sure
8. 12th house stelliums could really like day dreaming a lot
9. Most Libra people I have met are usually already well liked regardless of anything. and the ones that aren't, really care about being liked by people.
10. Speaking of this, most libra placements, esp suns, may really be gossiped about or do gossips.
11. Sagittarius placements (sun and rising esp) always have something going on with their teeth. Its either crooked, it may have had an injury and even if its perfect, they might be a little insecure about it at least for a brief period in their life
12. Neptune in 7th house could mean the native has kind of like imaginary ideals about their partner. It could also be that they "like the idea of someone more than the person" or straight up like imaginary characters as ideals
13. Sag mercury women usually are very vocal. May advocate for things like unequal rights, feminism, maybe the first one to speak. tbh sag mercuries overall are the types to take part in global challenges and really take time out to think about it seriously.
14. Sun in 8th house is a mysterious placement. Sun in 8th house won't reveal themselves to you. To be fairly honest, growing up their personality goes through a lot of transformation before they finally get to even know themselves and who they are. They could also be very introspective if not self aware
15. while Moon in 8th house natives are usually said that they won't reveal their true emotions, I'd say that's subjective since they are actually "aware" of their feelings on a deep level. This depends on the sign and degree of the moon imo. However, they may instead absolutely illusion you into thinking "you know everything about them" lol. Also, they could eventually get very emotionally intelligent in their lives with time. They may also never fully reveal their past to someone.
16. Moon in 8th house can have two moods. I know this will happen. See this happened. OR I know EXACTLY why this did not happen lol. Very intuitive.
17. Moon in Gemini degrees can indicate being able to verbalize and intellectualize emotions better than most people. While Moon in Aquarius or Capricorn may suggest otherwise.
18. Idk how but most Aquarius people I have seen have either of these two things. Being extremely different than most people (in a good or bad way) in some way or the other, a different thinking than most. OR, being really really good with Internet related stuff, like maybe freelance? Digital Media? Social Media?
19. Venus/Sun/Moon in virgos will get you the small thing you mentioned in a random seemingly unimportant conversation for your birthday gift.
20. A placement that makes me think of "attractive personality" is Venus in harmonious aspects with mercury.
21. Mars in 5th house/1st house are said to be automatically physically active or athletic. While this maybe true, mars or any other planet at a weak degree or Mars in Earth signs may not manifest that way, even though it may seem otherwise.
22. I think mercury in 11th house is an OG placement for over thinkers or the people who are thinking how would it feel to get married while riding the car/train and looking outside, or being constantly in their head the second they woke up.
23. " I am so stupid in love"- Pisces, Cancer placements.
24. Neptune in 3rd/11th house placements could have a social media or chronically online addiction.
25. Sun in 1st house in SR can indicate getting a sense of identity and purpose and moreover finding yourself again
26. Uranus in 12th house in SR can indicate a change/transformation in old belief systems and thoughts
support me on ko-fi :)
Well, I am thinking of making proper dedicated posts now instead of random notes like that. What suggestions do you have? I would loveee to know.
#astrology#astro notes#astro thoughts#astro#astro tumblr#astro community#astrology placements#astro observations#astro placements#astro posts#astrology community#astrology notes#astroloji#cancer moon#pisces#zodiacsigns#zodiac#horoscope#virgo#virgo sun#moon in 8th house#sagittarius#lilacstro observations#lilacstro#lilacstronotes
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
ON THE RECORD | Q. HUGHES43
-> quinn hughes x fem!reader
-> contains: dom!quinn, unprotected pnv, m!oral receiving filming sex, physical fighting, bruises and blood, sexual acts and themes, exgf!reader x vince dunn
-> IN WHICH: it’s the first canucks vs. krakens game of the season; and for quinn, this time it’s personal. when y/n’s ex has some words to say about their relationship, he shows both of them exactly who she belongs to.
-> locked in to this fic so hard bc i haven’t written in forever, so i finished writing it in the shower BUT NOT LIKE THAT I PROMISE. also there’s 100% discrepancies in real game play vs in this but please bare with me for the plot. (hope you love it as much as i do!)
*fic is not proofread
18+ CONTENT BELOW THE CUT
y/n was never nervous for a game.
but nothing could take away the ache she had leading up to this one.
it had been a while since her and quinn started dating, and he had it out for her ex since she told him all the horrible things he did to her; cheating, lying, hooking up with multiple women during the season, making a fool out of her publicly. however, she begged quinn not to start something; let bygones be bygones and leave it be, arguing how she left it all behind her. he agreed, knowing he didn’t want any bad press on himself; as captain and as someone the media knew wasn’t a fighter in the league.
y/n sat with her friend in the suite , fiddling with the sleeves of quinn’s jersey, eyes following where he was skating; he looked calm, focused, attentive to warm ups.
“dude, you need to calm down,” her friend laughed, noticing her obvious stress, “nothing is going to happen between them, i promise.”
y/n looked at her friend, “i know, i know. it’s just… quinn hates him. i know vince, and i know he can’t help himself from a fight. i’m just worried.”
“think quinn can’t handle himself?”
“no i know he can, i don’t want him risking getting hurt over something as stupid as a fight,” she retorted, gaze still fixed on the ice, “especially with vince.”
“i think you’re being dramatic,” her friend chuckled, taking a sip of her cold beer, “it’s just another game, no big deal.”
y/n sighed, shoulders relaxing a bit, allowing her friend’s reassurance to ease the tension in her body, “yeah, you’re right. just another game,” she said, cheering her cup with hers.
——————————————————————————
CANUCKS 3 - KRAKEN 2 / 3RD PERIOD
quinn was good at keeping his cool.
he had to, after all.
he ignored the glares from vince, his attempt at intimidation lingering through the entire game.
they didn’t come close in contact, until during a time out, quinn heard a voice call out at him,
“y/n here tonight? bet she came just for me,” vince chirped, a sinister, smug look on his face as he skated past him.
quinn stayed stone faced.
further into the final period of the game, he felt a body slam into his, nearly losing his balance and almost falling into the boards,
the whistle blew, and quinn was met yet again with vince’s hubristic stance,
“saw you’re with her now, how’s that goin for you? bet i come up a lot,”
vince spat, quinn skating closer to him, his temper beginning to spark in his body,
“get over it bud. she’s done with you.” quinn said calmly, the other players around the ice not aware of the situation brewing beside them.
“look hughes, you’re not special,”
with each word, the kraken gets closer and closer to quinn, puffing his chest and spewing hate, the hands in his gloves in the beginning of curling into fists,
“it was just you to get over me,”
quinn’s jaw tightened,
vince laughed bitterly, “she’s a slut, you tonight someone else tom-”
vince couldn’t even finish his sentence before quinn shoved him hard, both their gloves dropped as they fought, quinn bringing him down to the ice, delivering blow after blow to his face.
it all happened so fast, y/n heard the pounding on the glass, cheering on a fight, and feeling her stomach twist when she saw 43.
oh god.
none of the refs were able to get quinn off of him alone, his fists not stopping until they were bruised and bloody, matching the wounds on vince’s face.
quinn was panting with anger, face tinted crimson, a light bruise forming on his cheekbone where vince had landed a punch. he couldn’t feel the near splits in his knuckle, too riled with adrenaline to feel anything but rage.
——————————————————————————
fortunately enough, the canucks ended the game with a win, but that didn’t change how fired up y/n knew quinn was going to be when she saw him.
she was allowed to be in the locker room during post game interviews, and she watched nervously as interviewers swarmed and crowded quinn, bombarding him with questions.
he was asked about the fight, detail, if vince had said anything to set him off, the why as a captain, he would start something on the ice.
quinn’s expression remained nothing short of blank, refusing to answer any questions regarding it, pursing his lower lip, “nothing to say about that. keep it about hockey and that’s it.”
after post game reports had finished, y/n waited outside by the doors for quinn to come out.
she didn’t know how he was going to be when he came out, pacing with worry about what the media would twist this game in to.
y/n heard the heavy doors click open, quinn in a lazy rendition of his suit, walking over to her; the bruise on his cheek deeper in color than when she initially saw.
“hey baby,” she said softly, opening her arms for quinn to embrace without hesitation.
“hey,” he replied, tightening their hug before pulling away, “cmon, we need to go home.”
quinn didn’t give y/n a chance to respond when he hooked his hand into hers, leading her to his dark tinted car in the lot.
y/n slid into the passenger seat while quinn loaded his gear into the trunk, she looked out the window until the driver’s side door clicked shut.
she looked over at quinn, an unreadable look on his face; he said nothing, instead putting the car in drive to go back to their shared apartment.
the drive home was silent.
the only sound being the hum of the car engine and their steady breaths. quinn always had his hand on her leg when he drove, but this time his hand was a little higher, his grip a little tighter, all whilst he kept his gaze fixed on the road. y/n’s breath would hitch ever so slightly when his fingers kneaded into her skin.
——————————————————————————
quinn was still quiet even after getting home.
frustrated, y/n spoke out, “quinn, what did vince say to you?” she said with a sigh,
“shit about me. about you. us.” he mumbled, taking off his suit jacket and undoing the black tie he had on.
“so, that’s reason enough to give me the silent treatment all the way home? you’re acting like that was my fault,”
“i never said it was your fault.”
“you don’t have to! it doesn’t take a lot to know you’re upset,” she retorted,
“y/n,” quinn started, walking over to where she was standing, holding her by the neck when he kissed her roughly, biting her lip when she moaned lightly into his mouth.
he tapped the back y/n’s of legs, and she jumped hooking her legs around his waist without objection.
quinn waltzed them to the bedroom, their kiss nowhere close to cooling off. quinn lightly tossed her on the bed, lips peeling off hers to suck and bite on the exposed skin of her neck.
y/n groaned lightly, beginning to unbutton his collared shirt, when quinn pulled off of her, leaving y/n with furrowed brows.
“quinn, what’s wrong?” she said, propping herself up on her arms, looking up at her boyfriend, confused.
“wait here baby,” he said, leaving the room.
she nodded, and about 15 seconds had passed when quinn returned to the room, his phone in hand with the camera app already opened.
“you want to make a movie huh?” she said, beginning to peel off the jersey that housed quinn’s name.
“only for our number one fan. leave the jersey on,” he said, “but everything else, off. now.”
y/n nodded, slipping down her pants and thong, her pussy already aching with the desire quinn had filled in her.
quinn swiftly undid his belt with one hand, lowering his pants and boxers to leave his hard length exposed.
“c’mere, suck.”
y/n obliged, moving down to her knees to meet quinn at hip length, the phone flash shining brightly in her face when she took the tip of his dick and swirled it around her tongue.
quinn groaned, moving his free hand to pull y/n’s hair into a ponytail with his fist. his breath quickened, y/n taking all of him in, bobbing up and down; quinn’s hips matching her rhythm.
he had almost forgot he was recording her, but when her lashes fluttered up to perfectly view the camera whilst she sucked him, quinn knew he was close to cumming.
quinn groaned louder, fucking y/n’s face, her moans sending vibrations on his dick that pushed him to his release. he pulled out of her mouth right when he was about to cum, y/n sticking her tongue out to collect his release.
god he was loving this.
he stopped the video as she wiped the leftover release from her face, pulling her up for a sloppy hot kiss.
quinn pulled away, the two panting with puffy lips, “bed, ass up, baby. now.” he instructed, reopening his phone for the perfect view.
“yes captain,” y/n said, just ready for whatever quinn had in store for her, her wetness beginning to seep down and stick to her inner thighs, burning for him to touch her.
after hitting record, quinn wasted no time aligning himself with her, pumping in and out a few times before going fully in, his hips meeting her ass, eliciting moans from the two of them.
his pace was rapid and brutal, moving her hair away from her and back into his hands, revealing to the camera the “hughes” jersey she was wearing.
“fuck, quinn! mm, so good— my god, fuck,” y/n moaned, echoing with the sound of their skin slapping against one another, her noises music to quinn’s ears.
he continued to pound hard into her, y/n’s knuckles white from how hard she gripped into the sheets, feeling her stomach tighten, about to reach her high.
quinn felt her pussy tighten around him, knowing she was close, “gonna cum baby? go ahead, cum,” he husked, coming to his second of the night.
she screamed in pleasure, her cunt coating his dick, mixing with his as he filled her up with his release.
quinn pulled out of her slowly, giving time to show the camera a view of her dripping puffy pussy, ending the video with a hard smack on her ass.
y/n yelped, falling into the bed. quinn turned her around, gently kissing her in her dazed state.
“you okay baby?” he asked gently, caressing her face with his thumb,
“mhm, but i think you killed me. i’m exhausted,” she laughed, quinn smiling and bringing his lips down to peck hers, “sorry, want me to go start a shower for us?”
“you know me so well,”
quinn crawled off of her, grabbing his phone before slipping into the bathroom,
he opened instagram, typing in vince’s username into the search bar, itching as he opened their messages tab.
——————————————————————————
© missqhughes
xoxo, kaia
#quinn hughes#quinn hughes smut#quinn hughes x y/n#quinn hughes x you#quinn hughes x reader#qh43#vancouver canucks#quinn hughes fanfiction#quinn hughes fic#nhl fic#hughes brothers#quinn hughes imagine#nhl imagine#nhl#hockey
700 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hii! I'm in love with your Hotch adult daughter fics. Could we get one where she is getting bullied in college or where she works and then Hotch finds out somehow and helps her? Please please :)
thanks so much for requesting! fem, 1.2k
He decides to surprise you. He’s at risk of embarrassing himself greatly, and he’s okay with that risk.
Hotch stands outside of the George Washington University and winces in the hot weather. The sun beats down on the back of his neck. He’s more aware of how little sun protection he uses as the time stretches on, waiting for you, but he doesn’t mind it. He’s worn full suits in the Nevada desert.
You emerge from the main building where your last class for the day takes place. He dropped you off here last week, got to watch you walk in and say hi to the custodian. It was a nice insight of who you are, someone he’s proud to be the father of though he had little hand in what you’ve become.
Behind you are two female classmates.
Hotch pauses under the tree he’d taken refuge by.
He can’t hear what they’re saying, but he can see the rigidity of your shoulders, your hackles rising as they talk. The brunette gets a nasty look on her face, to which you respond, and the blonde’s volume begins to rise.
The brunette looks like she might reach for you. “Don’t touch me,” you warn.
Hotch steps in.
“Hey, excuse me,” he says, loudly and firmly, the Unit Chief tone in play. He’s gotten very good at raising his voice without shouting. “What’s going on here?”
The two women who were talking to you falter, but the brunette stays fiery. “We’re just talking.”
“About what?”
“It’s none of your business.”
“If you’re going to lay your hands on her, it becomes my business,” he says.
There’s a guilt to the blonde’s expression that proves you’d been thinking correctly and that she was going to touch you, even if it were only to grab your wrist, but she bristles and denies. “We weren’t.”
“Then you have no reason to stay.”
You frown deeply. “No, they can finish. Clearly they think it’s important–”
“But do you think it’s important?” Hotch asks you.
Your frown, your anger beginning to ebb. You take a breath. “I suppose not.”
Hotch levels the women with a look. Just a look, not interrogative or heated, but prompting —it’s the kind of look he gives people when he wants them to realise they’ve missed their cue to leave.
“See you next week, then,” the brunette says, a threat he abhors.
“I’m sure she will,” he says, hoping anything unsaid is felt. He has no idea who they are or what you’ve apparently done to make them angry, but you won’t be intimidated.
“Do I need to talk with Dean Langley?” he asks, turning to you as the women walk out of hearing range.
“Aaron.” You look at him, look like him, not in appearance but the pinch to your brow as you rub the bridge of your nose. “I’m sorry you had to deal with that.”
“What?”
“They do it to me every time I’m here.”
“They do?”
You sound like it’s a chore. “They think I’m sleeping with our professor.”
“Why would they think that?”
“Because ever since I stopped working, my grades are much better, n’ they think I cheated my way there.”
Oh, of course. Hotch tries to do something good by you —he’s started giving you a little chunk of money every week so you don’t have to work anymore, nothing obsequious but enough to cover everything you need, rent and food and transportation, clothes, textbooks, and he made it clear you can ask for more— and it makes things worse for you instead. Still, “Your grades are improving?”
“I’m doing pretty well,” you confess shyly.
He holds your shoulder. “I’m sorry they’re jealous, and I’m sorry they’re inventing a narrative to cope. I really can speak with Dean Langley if you need me to.”
You smile and let yourself lean into his touch. “Inventing a narrative to cope,” you repeat. “That’s a good one. I’ll use that one.”
You have more fight in you, it seems. “If it gets too much, just let me know. You don’t have to entertain their delusion.”
“I’ll use that one, too.”
He laughs, hand sliding behind your back to hug you from the side, his nose briefly pressing to your temple before he gives you space again. “I was hoping I’d catch you on your way out, are you busy? Let me take you to dinner, celebrate your performance.”
“You realise I wouldn’t have improved without your help?” you ask.
“I think any parent in my position should provide for their kid,” he says easily. “It’s not help. Not everyone can support their children through college, but I can, and I wish I had been from the start.”
“You don’t owe me anything,” you say.
He nudges you into a walk toward his car. “I owe you more than you realise.”
He takes you to an early dinner, and celebrates your improving grades with the dessert of your choosing. Conversation with you can sometimes feel strange. It’s hard to think you were a kid once and he’d never met you, but then he realises how young twenty two really is, how you’re still willing, longing for him to be a father to you. You’re smug that he’d go to the dean to for you. You like that he stepped in. And you love being doted on, being encouraged. He can see that easily.
“When can I come back to see Jack?” you ask eventually.
He wishes he could say whenever you like, but he has a hard time following Haley’s movements. “I’ll ask. Soon, I promise.”
“He took great care of me.”
The last time you’d stayed over, Jack acted like you were the best thing since sliced bread (which you are, in Hotch’s eyes).
“You know, he had a little trouble with bullies last year.”
“They aren’t bullies,” you say, taking a bashful bite of your ice cream.
“No, of course not. But he’ll understand, if you want to tell him about it.”
“Aaron, he’s five.”
“He’s six,” he corrects.
“Oh, sorry. But still, I don’t think Jack wants to deal with that. I couldn’t unload on him, he’s my… you know, he’s my little brother.”
“Then tell me about it, at least.”
“You saw the most of it.”
He sighs. Wishes you’d call him dad, understands why you don’t, and can’t think of what to do. It was easier when Jack had trouble, because little kids bully each other almost on accident. They don’t know what they’re doing is wrong, having learned the behaviour from their parents. It’s almost never personal.
Your situation is not the same.
“I’ll talk to the dean,” he suggests again.
“Don’t bother. It’s alright. And if it gets worse, I’ll tell you.”
He smiles, reaching over plates to squeeze your hand briefly. “Thank you.”
You look down at your food. Some shyness to you still at being cared about. “Thank you,” you mumble.
#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x y/n#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner blurb#aaron hotchner drabble#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotchner fanfic#aaron hotchner fanfiction#hotch x reader#hotch#hotch x you#hotch blurb#hotch drabble#criminal minds
609 notes
·
View notes
Text
My girlfriend requested this
Hazbin men trying the period simulator. Somewhat of a follow up to my period post so this is based on the reader having severe period pain due to PCOS/ENDO
Lucifer
The man is sweating before you even attach the simulator. He knows he fucked up. He only agreed to this because he loves you a lot.
He handles the first 3 levels ok. You tell him very few women experience that little pain and that usually 4-6 is the average.
Those levels make him tense. He's uncomfortable, but still pretty able to work and do normal things. 5 has him pausing to do deep breaths every now and then. (If this is the canon timeline where he birthed Charlie he compares it to bad kicks).
6-8 he's pretty much doubled over. If you tell him that's the level you experience, he will cry. Literally begs forgiveness since again, period and labor pain is technically his fault. He is so sorry. If he didn't have issues with his Dad before he does now because this is fucked up. God's fucked up for doing this.
He doesn't make it to 10, he's crying by level 9. This is labor levels of pain. He gets why all you do is sleep. Treats your period like a sacred ritual after that. Preps for weeks. He goes full Bible, sheltering you for the duration of it so you can have peace and quiet. Please never hook him up to this again.
If you wear it at anything from an 8-10 and tell him "It's close, but I've hurt worse" he's gonna sob and then try and fight his Old Man again. He'll settle for offering to have your bits removed for you.
Vox
Once again this man hates admitting he was wrong. And yeah he knows your periods are really bad, especially now he's witnessed it. But it's still a huge knowledge gap for him and he doesn’t really take the time to think about it.
He handles 1-5 well. He's mildly uncomfortable by 5, but thinks that if this is the average experience, then it's not such a big deal. Tell him the statistics on how many people with periods actually experience 6-8 because that's actually the majority, and he's just confused. How is the average pain level not the most common?
6-8 has him gritting his teeth and glitching, but he refuses to stop and keeps trying to work. Is starting to wonder how you went so long working with this level of pain without him noticing.
He makes it to 10, but by then, he's unable to move, clutching his abdomen and sparking and glitching. Tells you it feels like his entire insides are being squeezed. The fact that he can feel it in his groin. He's kind of afraid of period sex with you after that because of how much he felt it. And you said it's caused cramps from your ribs to your knees. He's like... genuinely scared of your period and pain tolerance.
He's going to snuggle the fuck out of you afterwards and apologize for not appreciating how much you still do for him when you're not feeling good. How he didn't see how hurt you were. He does a lot of research after that and not only does he spoil you by buying whatever you need for your periods and giving you time off, he looks into treatment options. Even if that means chopping the useless fucking things out. Sinners can't have kids anyway so who needs ovaries and a uterus?
He's more convinced you should just be rid of the damn things when you wear it and 8-10 is "Yeah, this is close, but it doesn't really cover how much of my body hurts".
Valentino
Is only doing this because he was dared to by Velvette. Or if this an au where he's trying to be a less toxic person. But really I think it's also to prove that you're all being dramatic. It's a perfectly normal body function and his employees are just trying to get out of work.
He gets all the way to 6 before he starts to realize he may have fucked up. Especially when it's explained that this is what most people experience.
By 10 he's gritting his teeth, chain smoking, clawing at things. He refuses to give in, but he can count on one hand the number of things in his entire life and death as a pimp and a whore that he's experienced that come close to this level of pain.
No one told him his dick was gonna hurt. Sitting hurts. Breathing hurts. He doesn't even try to eat. He won't ever admit to being wrong, but he does behave more leniently with his actors when they're on their periods.
If you put it on (and lets say he actually cares about you) and setting 8-10 is "Yeah, this an average day for my cramps. My bad days are like..5 or 6 levels worse" it's gonna rearrange his brain a little. He might be a little afraid of you and some of the other actors with periods because your pain tolerances are so high. It threatens his ability to control you and them. But on the other hand, that's kinda hot???
Alastor
Has never once doubted that people who experience periods undergo serious struggle and has nothing but respect for women (and trans people he just associates it with women more because of the time period and his mama) who work through it.
He is actually the one who heard about the simulator through Rosie and asks you to show him your experience. Just to better understand you. He knows you're the type to try and function through the pain (probably because society ingrained into you that your pain doesn't matter).
Initially, he wants to skip the lower levels and just have you set it to your pain level. You tell him that's a bad idea, and to be honest, you're not sure if this thing goes that high. He asks you to check and you set it to the highest setting and say, "It's pretty close. It's been worse, but this is a rough idea," he's a little frustrated but still tries it.
You agree to set it to 4 and tell him 4-6 is what most people report feeling. He acknowledges it, registers it as unpleasant, but otherwise is fully capable.
7-9 has his ears flat, his smile is more a snarl. This is uncomfortable. Not what he considers painful but certainly irritating. It makes sitting, stretching, and eating feel much more difficult.
10. There's static visble around him. His teeth grind. Actually painful. Not the worst pain he's experienced, but he hates it. He hates the way he feels it in his back and hips as he walks. He hates the way taking deep breaths (which for someone as dramatic as he is and with the transatlantic accent, breathing technique and posture is important) stings. He hates the way it causes his stomach to cramp and churn. He hates the ache in his thighs and groin that make sitting feel stiff and ackward. He can only picture how blood loss would make this worse. Tired, losing nutrients, the headaches, the increased moodiness. It's no wonder you sleep, so much, but he wonders how the Hell you sleep like this? He's snappy and short tempered because of the pain (and again he gets why you would be if you weren't sleeping so much).
How does this affect how he treats you?
Not much. He still expects you to know your body and your limits. He would never dare to presume otherwise. He still helps prepare whatever you need for your time of the month and still meal plans for you, though he perhaps finds ways to ensure you get all the iron and vitamins you need without cooking steak and other big, heavy meals, since he now understands how bad your stomach hurts.
The only really noticeable change is how much more protective of you he is. Your time of the month hits, and Alastor hates being more than a few moments from you. He growls, pins his ears, and his antlers grow when people get too close to you. He's more prone to letting you snuggle with him when you want, trying to comfort you.
Angel Dust
Another who volunteered. His girl besties insist he doesn't have to do this, he's got the pass. He still wants to do it though, for solidarity.
He also starts on 4 and handles it well. He handles all of the levels pretty well, even 10. By 7 it's obvious he's sore, maybe a bit more withdrawn, exhausted, trying not to move too much or eat too much. Just trying to find a comfortable way to exist. The sad problem is, Angel already has to do this after rough nights at Val's.
He's used to sitting being uncomfortable and aches in his groin and thighs, cramps in his stomach from muscles clenching constantly. 10 is the only level where he's visibly ill, hunched over, lower arms curled around his midsection protectively.
He and the girlies all curl up together and nap and chat and snack on easy to digest junk food and granola bars. He's the first one to say "I bet it's even worse for you gals, but I tried".
He gets it. He's one of the girls. Honestly, kind of becomes a favorite when the ladies have period problems. (If you're dating any of the others and Angel is openly your favorite after this it is gonna cause a lot of dramatic pouting, posturing, and tantrum throwing.)
Husk
I'm going full balls to the wall on Veteran Husk. This man has seen some shit and dealt with his fair share of pain. Like Angel he takes it the best, with very little outward reaction. He's used to stiffness and nausea. The pain in his crotch is a little off putting, but it could be worse.
He's more cautious how he moves, rests more, occasionally a cramp causes his ears to pin back or a small hiss. Overall he takes it like a champ.
Offers you endless amounts of supportive words for dealing with this as well as you do, for days on end. Also is deeply sorry you even have to put up with this shit. Offers all sorts of tips on how to do stretches that help with easing cramps and stiffness without pulling something. Tips of foods/protein drinks to keep on hand to make sure you're maximizing how much nutrition you get. Man's a whole ass survival guide.
He only offers advice if you ask, though. He's not mansplaining how to handle your own body. He genuinely wants to help you, and that's the best way he knows how.
When you're on your period and just want something soft and warm he doesn't even bitch about it, he just settles on top of you and purrs, offers a massage, maybe offers a sly grin and a "no man left behind" joke as he helps you through these dark times.
BONUS:
ADAM
Would only do this if you challenged him, he has to prove his masculinity. He is definitely nervous as fuck though because he's seen yours. You and Lute already forced him to sit through a whole PowerPoint on women's anatomy and shit. He remembers how shitty he was to Eve, even if hers were in comparison, not that bad, just scary and new.
You forcing him to learn about and acknowledge female health is making him scared of pussy. This isn't gonna help.
3 and 4 make him whiney. He's uncomfortable. His groin feels weird. This sucks. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN THIS ISN'T EVEN THE AVERAGE?!"
By 5-7 he's actually on his knees, curled over his stomach. He tells you getting stabbed hurt less. This is making him re-evaluate his entire view on women (again he knows about trans people, but because of personal history equates periods to women. Wouldn't hate if a trans person had a period, it would just take his brain a second to process). He whines that you and Lute shouldn't be more badass than him.
"I thought men were supposed to be tougher and stronger. This pain tolerance horseshit is a lie. You guys suck."
He insists on going to 10 because quitting is for losers. He may actually throw up at 10 though. Every time the stupid simulators sends out a pulse and his stomach clenches, he groans. He's in the featal position, there are tears. One hand clenches his stomach the other is cupped around his groin. He's apologizing so much and he doesn't even remember what he's apologizing for. At one point its just "I'm sorry...oh fuck this...sorry about...ugh just...just men?! I guess. Fucking shit ass. Men suck. Women are...fucking great. Aces. You do this shit every month? For like 5 days....what the fuck. What the fuck what the fuck."
You feel a little bad, but Lute is definitely filming this. Afterwards, he tells you you're a badass and any person shit talking people for bitching about period pain (Not that a lot of Winners do, but ya know, obviously they let some questionable people into Heaven if Adam and Lute got by) he's gonna beat the shit out of them. Like "Do you even fucking know, bitch? They're literally so much fucking better than you. Absolute queens. You try doing literally anything when it feels like your dick is falling off and your insides are trying to claw outside your body!"
#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin hotel vox#hazbin hotel lucifer#vox x reader#hazbin hotel valentino#lucifer x reader#hazbin hotel angel dust#hazbin hotel husk#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel adam
1K notes
·
View notes
Note
not rlly a request but it can be if uw??
I can't stop thinking abt kitty hybrid user and some big cat hybrid gojo (snow leopard, tiger, lion, etc). Suguru originally had hybrid Gojo as a pet, but then found kitty reader and decided to adopt them, and the moment Gojo sees them, he instantly decides that reader is his mate, and just follows them around like a dumb puppy. He'll cling onto reader and groom them all day, licking their fur and their face and not stopping even when reader complains or when Suguru tries to step in. Gojo is super super possesive of reader, and insists on eating, sleeping and bathing with reader, and will start shredding cushions or other things if denied. He's a big cat, so his claws do some serious damage to furniture, so Suguru has no choice but to give in if he doesn't want to spend everything in his bank account to repair the damage. I'd imagine Gojo and reader would have a similar dynamic to your puppygirl and wolf Gojo fics, but Gojo is the one teasing and getting all over reader. Reader's just too innocent to realise what's going on, so they just let Gojo do whatever. Thanks for reading my little blurb, I just needed to get it out!! Hope u have a nice day ❤️
The Preakness in this needs to be studied omg
I want to expand.
KittyHybrid !reader x Tigerhybrid!Gojo
Satoru really thinks he owns you like literally thinks you were bought just for him when that’s not the case, well yeah you were bought for companionship but Suguru also got you because he felt the house was too manly? It would be nice to have a girl around. So he got ur little cute self, at the hybrid facility you were the sweetest thing ever, you’d lay yourself all over Suguru in a ploy to go home with him, he of course gave in.
The first few days he has to keep you separated from Satoru for obvious reasons, Satoru is extremely protective over the house, Suguru can’t have any company over besides Shoko who he tolerates in his space. When he first smelt you he was angry, he couldn’t tell you what you were so he was on edge, the thing is he had only smelled you not seen you.
Suguru has you in another room letting you get familiar with Gojos scent and also letting him get familiar with yours, Gojo really won’t leave the locked door you’re behind alone he’s constantly coming near it to sniff and try to unlock it, Suguru has to guide him to get away from it every single time.
When he does meet you a warmth blooms within his chest, women are such a rarity for Satoru especially other hybrids, you don’t come from the same family as him but he’s so obsessed.
He insists that he have an hour licking session of him using his slimy tongue to clean you even though you really don’t need it! Everytime you try to pry him off in a whiny tone he’s hearing none of it. It gets to the point where you have to whine for a suguru to help you: he does but Satoru has the meanest fucking expression on his face when you’re pried from his arms. He goes on to have an attitude for the rest of the day.
You’re so right about Gojo scratching couches with his sharp claws in retailiation, he gets soo clingy with you, so angry when Suguru separates you it’s so bad that like you said Suguru doesn’t want to deal with him ruining expensive things around the house, that doesn’t mean he’ll let Satoru do whatever he wants with you there are some limits.
Most of the time you’re nice and pliant in Satoru’s lap, you don’t fight back when he carries you around the house simply just letting the huge tiger do what he pleases.
You don’t seem to mind when he rubs himself all over you, purring so loudly because he’s just that obsessed with the docile kitty.
Tiger!Satoru loves your little cunt just as much as he loves the rest of you, he’s only gotten to feel your warm insides once because that’s where Suguru drew the line hard. It was the best day of his life, all you did was mewl below him while he stuffed you full of his fat cock, he came so quickly that night.
He craves to feel you again but Suguru stood his ground, he’d get rid of you if it came to that again (not that he wanted to, Suguru really loved having you around the house it was just an empty threat that seemed to work)
Tiger!Satoru will settle for licking and giving you nasty slippery kisses!
#zsworks#fem reader#gojo x reader#jjk x reader#gojo smut#gojo x female reader#gojo satoru x reader#hybrid gojo x reader#jjk x hybrid reader#jjk hybrid x hybrid reader#tiger!gojo#tiger!satoru#hybrid x reader#Hybrid smut#gojou satoru x reader#satoru x female reader#kitty!reader#kitty hybrid#satoru gojō x reader#satoru x reader#satoru smut#satoru x you#gojo satoru#jjk satoru#jujutsu satoru#jujutsu kaisen satoru
799 notes
·
View notes
Text
fright night
kim minji x reader
synopsis: in which your university’s halloween festival leads to you and minji beating around the bush — finally.
warnings: making out. like the best makeout scene i've written in a bit i think. ohmygdoajsdf ; minji is a loooooser but we all know this ; pining ; dumb gay women ; FLIRTING. they want each other SO BAD i was giggling writing this im ngl ; SO cute i loved writing this ohmygod ; anything else not mentioned ; not proofread
a/n: lately i’ve been going insane bc of minji like she’s just so gf… so… she’s so… i need her
kim minji is an idiot, she’s literally the dumbest person you know.
well, academically she’s actually a genius, but she’s clumsy and clueless nine times out of ten. unfortunately yet fortunately(?) for her, this is only more of the reason for you to be completely in love with her.
which is why your roommate is dealing with another one of your little attempts to deny your feelings again.
“i think i should just die.” you groan into yunjin’s bed. she watches you, your body lifeless after you roll over to face the ceiling. “everything was just normal.”
“‘just’ as in… a month ago…?” your roommate snickers, folding a t-shirt and placing it next to your torso. “i think you’re the only person i know who doesn’t enjoy being in love.”
yes: you’re in love with kim minji.
no: you do not enjoy being in love with her at all.
it’s not that she’s an asshole, it’s just the fact that everyone is also in love with her. she quite literally has a line of girls (and men, but none of them stand a chance) waiting for her. she’s kim minji, one of your mutual friends who happens to be the captain of the university’s soccer team—which is why the clumsy aspect of her is often overlooked. so to most, she’s just hot, but she’s more to you, much more.
and you? you’re just trying to get by. you’re not in the spotlight, you haven’t gotten hit on in months — you and minji are two worlds apart.
“this is a waste of time. she only sees me as a friend, she’s cute and athletic. compared to her the most astonishing thing i can do is make a t-shirt and wide-legged jeans to sell on depop.”
“you should make a t-shirt that says ‘kim minji i want you so bad please marry me—“
yunjin is cut off when her just-folded shirt is thrown right at her face. she groans and throws it right back at you.
“i hope you get the same fate as a side character in a horror film.” you groan, sitting up and glaring at her.
“aw, thanks.” she says dryly, rolling her eyes. “hey, speaking of horror… the halloween festival is soon. are you going?”
“i fear.” you sigh, shoulders sinking a bit.
your partner in crime outside of your dorm, danielle, had convinced you with a look filled with sparkly eyes and a sweet smile to help out with face painting. there would be a variety of people passing by and you were notoriously known for being able to draw really well despite being a fashion major. “art is art,” danielle had shrugged, and so she bribed you with some coffee to really commit to it.
“danielle got me to do the face painting stall.”
yunjin’s eyes widen as she sets down a sweater. “did she?”
“yeah. i’m the only one within the circle – other than hanni – who can draw more than a stick figure.”
“you’ve got that right.” yunjin snickers. “you think your wife will be there?”
“minji?” you tilt your head, to which yunjin responds with a raised brow. she got you there. “oh, um. maybe? why?”
“don’t act all unbothered now.” your roommate scoots you over so she can pick up a pile and stack them somewhere else. “if she’s also doing something for the event, i see it as an opportunity.”
“why would i willingly do that to myself? im going to look desperate.”
“minji is an idiot, we both know that. why would it matter? i think she’d be flattered to have you there. hasn’t she literally taken you home like… three times? girl, stop overthinking.” yunjin scoffs. “plus, you never look desperate. you’re a little too good at acting like you don’t care. don’t you think you’re driving her away? it’s like, you’re so normal and even distant in real life, i don’t want to say nonchalant because it’ll boost your ego, but unfortunately, that’s what you are.”
“you—“ yunjin raises both brows as you start to speak.
“she probably wants you too. i’ve noticed you guys talking more — don’t think i don’t notice you guys next to each other in between classes, even if it’s with your circle. kazuha asked if you were dating actually.”
“really?”
yunjin giggles, turning away from her closer and back at you. she stands right in front of you, towering over and looking into your eyes scarily.
“you want that girl so bad.”
“i can’t.”
“no, no. listen to me, you’re going to take this halloween thing as an advantage to make a move and also look hot. i don’t know how many more complaints about you being a bomosexual i can take.”
“i hate you.”
“okay then pay full rent.”
“i love you?”
yunjin laughs, picking up another pile of clothes and putting it away.
—
hanni is the one to text you out of nowhere the day after, something about “minji wanted you to eat with us, but heeseung is at the cafe.”
you squint at the message. you had just reached your class, and now you’re being invited over to grab a bite with the girl you want so bad while the guy who wants you so bad is in the same area. there is no way you should be saying yes, you can’t. one: you need to get over minji. she’s out of reach, a mere dream. two: heeseung will be checking you out the whole time and might throw in a compliment or two.
“i’ll be there in five.” you respond, sighing and pinching the bridge of your nose.
…
the café seems a little busy, but that’s not surprising considering it’s around lunchtime and the cafe is not too far from the university. the second you step in, your eyes find minji across the room. she’s mid-laugh with hanni, but the moment she spots you, her smile stretches wider, something bright and giddy in her gaze. it’s that soft, familiar look she gets sometimes—too open, too much—but you’re just as bad, trying not to look like you’re seconds away from smiling like an idiot as you walk up.
“hey, you,” she greets, her voice warm as she sidles closer, her shoulder bumping yours as you both look over the menu.
“hey loser,” you reply, nudging her back a little harder, a playful rhythm forming between you. she pushes back with a smile, and you retaliate, each shove barely more than an excuse to keep lingering in that small space between you two. she laughs, cheeks a little flushed, and you can’t help but feel like coming over was the better decision.
you order first, dismissing minji’s offer to pay for your lunch. she frowns but nonetheless lets you order first. you order a sundried tomato and mozzarella panini, stepping to the side after and glancing at minji, who’s still staring at the menu.
hanni and danielle have already ordered, so you wait near the counter for minji so the two of you can meet up with the rest together.
much to your dismay, heeseung’s voice breaks through your little bubble. he steps closer, leaning against the counter a little too casually. “so, do you always come here, or did you just need an excuse?” his smile is easy, maybe a little too practiced, and his gaze lingers as he looks you up and down, more intense than friendly.
you try not to visibly cringe, offering him a polite smile. “not really—just here with friends today,” you say, keeping your tone light but cool. but he doesn’t quite take the hint, his eyes not quite leaving yours. he definitely thinks there’s something in the air, something other than his cologne that is way too strong for your liking.
“you look cute.”
“oh um, thanks?” you purse you lips into a forced smile, watching him smirk confidently.
“what are your plans after this? got class?”
before you can think of another way to steer the conversation away, you feel an arm slip around your waist, pulling you close, and you look over to find minji at your side. her smile is wide and a little mischievous, and there’s a hint of something defiant in her gaze as she looks right past heeseung, keeping her hand snug on your hip.
“oh, y/n!” she says brightly, voice layered with just enough enthusiasm to sound like a joke but there’s an edge that makes it feel like more. “i remembered something so funny, it’s about yunjin. you know, during practice she got hit in the head.”
she doesn’t even look at heeseung as she tugs you back toward your group, keeping her arm around you a beat longer than necessary. heeseung’s face twists slightly, frustration crossing his features, but minji doesn’t give him a second glance. she launches into a conversation about her classes, her hand slipping away from your waist as she nudges you with her shoulder once more, an unmistakable grin still tugging at her lips.
you two get the chance to converse and danielle and hanni, who are more than happy to have you there. you can feel heeseung and his group eyeing you from a mile away, but that doesn’t matter because minji is in front of you and keeping eye contact the whole time you complain about him.
both your order and minji’s are called out at the same time and for a second, it’s just the two of you again as you both walk up to the counter. her voice and her closeness are enough to erase the last few awkward moments.
“you looked like you were having fun back there,” she murmurs, half-laughing, and you can tell by the gleam in her eyes that she noticed everything.
you laugh, trying to shrug it off. “couldn’t have done it without you,” you say, brushing her shoulder with yours. she looks down, almost bashfully, a hint of pink coloring her cheeks as she smiles—a smile that lingers long after heeseung fades into the background once again and you two rejoin the others.
…
before you make an excuse to leave, although it’s not really an excuse more than a complaint about your professor assigning a grueling reading, you hug everyone. when it’s you and minji, you two hold onto each other for a split second longer than social norms until she pulls away. minji smells like flowers and vanilla – you could drown in her scent.
“are you going to the halloween festival this weekend?”
“oh, yeah. danielle is forcing me to volunteer.”
“that’s funny,” minji chuckles, “because hanni is forcing me too.”
“is that so?”
“uh huh, pumpkin carving moderator or something.” she says, biting the inside of your lip. “we should um, do you wanna walk around after? maybe drop your shift early and i’ll do the same.”
you grin, pushing minji’s shoulder with two fingers playfully.
“couldn’t find any other girl lined up for you to hangout with?”
“what other girls?” minji asks, genuinely confused.
you’re being an idiot. yunjin would so punch you in the face right now, so you come to your senses.
“i– nevermind. i’ll see you around.”
minji waves. “bye.”
…
after you leave, minji settles into her seat beside hanni and danielle, trying to keep her expression neutral. she fails, the smile on her face noticeably smaller and her eyes a little more dim. her friends have known her too long; hanni catches on first, a knowing smirk spreading across her face.
“you look like a disappointed puppy,” hanni says, nudging minji with a grin.
“what? no,” minji replies, clearly flustered. “what are you saying bro.”
“you were practically glowing when y/n walked in,” hanni teases, leaning in. “and then suddenly turned into a sad little puddle when she left. you want her soooo bad.”
minji’s cheeks turn a soft shade of pink, and she tries to laugh it off, glancing at danielle as if for backup. but danielle’s watching her too, a gentle, encouraging look on her face.
“it’s okay, minji,” danielle says softly. “it’s… pretty obvious, you know? you like y/n a lot.”
minji rolls her eyes, looking away. “maybe i do. but it doesn’t matter. y/n’s just… she’s too… normal, you know? she’s always so unbothered, so unfazed by anything. she probably doesn’t even want me. i’m always chasing her.”
danielle shakes her head, a knowing smile touching her lips. “i wouldn’t be so sure, minji. just because y/n’s good at hiding her feelings doesn’t mean she doesn’t have them.” she places a reassuring hand on minji’s arm. “trust me, i think there’s more there than you realize.”
minji lets out a small sigh, her gaze dropping to her hands. “it’s just… sometimes it feels like i’m the only one who’s feeling this way, you know? like i’m the only one getting flustered or waiting for her to look at me like… like i don’t know, she see’s me as a good friend.”
hanni wraps an arm around her, squeezing her shoulder. “please. y/n’s about as subtle as you when you’re around. i don’t know how you don’t see it.”
danielle laughs softly, nodding. “give it time, minji. y/n might just need a little nudge, and besides…” she pauses, glancing around conspiratorially before leaning in. “if y/n didn’t feel something, you wouldn’t have caught her staring at you like that when she thought no one was watching. plus, the whole nudging your shoulders the whole time. you two are like fucking thirteen year olds in love, it’s kind of gross.”
minji looks up, hope flickering in her eyes as a faint, shy smile tugs at her lips. maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t imagining it.
—
“im literally going to kill myself.” is the first thing yunjin hears when you get home, followed by you dropping your bag and crashing against her on your couch.
“girl what happened?”
“kim fucking minji. she’s insane, she wants me to die, i can’t do this, i resign from being a lesbian can i please resign.”
“well!” yunjin laughs, pulling you in. you lean on her shoulder and cover your face with your hands. “do you want to tell me what happened?”
through your hands, your voice is muffled as you explain, “basically hanni invited me to grab lunch with her and dani and minji. she looked so cute and like, we kept bumping shoulders and she kept smiling when she did it and then i ordered and—”
“you’re rambling–”
“and then i waited for my order while she ordered and heeseung started flirting with me,”
“ew, heeseung?”
“the bane of my existence— yes. i told him i was a lesbian at least three times! oh my god, anyway that doesn’t even matter, i don’t even care because—yunjin. huh yunjin.”
yunjin blinks at you as you stand up, pacing back and forth on the carpet now. she can’t help but laugh at you when you stop in front of her and groan, “jennifer huh.”
“wow, this must be serious.”
“minji fucking grabbed me by the waist like some wattpad story and then kinda shooed heeseung away and yunjin her hands are so nice and they were on my waist and i want her so bad. yeah. i’m gonna just die.”
yunjin pulls you by the wrist so you’re back next to her. she looks at you with a raised brow, waiting for you to recover from your high (if that counts as a high, but maybe you’re just insane).
“she wants you.”
“she’s playing with me.”
“you’re insane. you know hanni asked if me if you like minji earlier, right? talking about how minji looked so devastated after you left.”
“what?”
“oh my god. you know what, i’m done with you. you’re such an idiot that it’s pissing me off.”
you whine, pulling yunjin by her forearm and pulling her back, which earns a scoff. yunjin looks at your little pout and puppy eyes, but doesn’t give in. instead, she pushes you off, leaving you to deal with the events of the day on your own.
before she disappears into her room, she sighs, “you’re gay and useless.”
you sink into the couch a little more. “thanks.”
—
the weekend comes by all too fast. even with your time consuming assignments, it feels like you’ve blinked and now you have to deal with the whole festival.
you’re in a snug white cropped baby tee that shows a decent amount of your abdomen, your hair is styled just a bit, and the makeup on your face is a little more glittery and highlighted than usual. on your back there’s angel wings that complete the look.
(“she’s going to want you so bad, trust me.” yunjin assures as she does your eye makeup.
it’s nothing much, just some darker warm tones with a faint hint of purple and highlighter to make you really look like an angel.
“and…” yunjin adds a bit of highlighter to your cheekbones. she pulls away and gazes at her work, bringing her pointer to her lips and biting on it jokingly. “heyyy gorgeous.”
“shut up.”
“minji’s going to want you so bad.”
“shut. up.”)
yunjin drives the two of you to the festival, she also looks really good. while you’re an angel, she’s a devil, showing off her toned body from soccer so she can pick up some girls that night.
(“you’re such a hoe.” you groan, doing her makeup to make her eyes smoky and lips plump.
she rolls her eyes while putting on her little horns in her hair, checking herself out in the mirror.
“how do i look?”
“like a hoe.” you assure firmly, earning a shove. then, you slide a finger down her collarbone teasingly, winking at her. “a really hot one.”
your roommate chuckles. “save that for minji, y/n.”
“i hate you.”)
the halloween festival is lively, lights flickering under dark skies, and you slip through the crowd in your angel costume with yunjin. you’re not even sure if anyone’s noticed your costume details, but the reactions make it clear you look… well, good. or maybe that’s just yunjin who’s doing the attracting, but a man winks directly at you and you have to force back a look of disgust.
as you make your way to the face-painting stall, you catch sight of minji leaning against a booth, dressed as patrick bateman. she’s really hot, that’s for sure, and it’s nothing new. the loose, slightly unbuttoned dress shirt shows her collarbone, and you can’t help but think about how your lips would feel on them. the loosened tie around her neck makes her look really good; you feel like she’s pulling you in without trying. despite the purposeful tousled look, she looks effortlessly put-together, but the smudge of fake blood on her cheek adds a wild edge (and makes her look even hotter).
her eyes land on you, and her expression shifts just slightly before she pushes off the booth, walking over with a slight smirk.
“wow,” she says, looking you up and down in a way that feels way too intense. “you’re really… pulling off that angel look. you look really good, y/n.”
you giggle, trying to play it cool. “you look pretty good yourself,” you reply, letting your gaze drift over her from the blood on her cheek to the undone buttons of her shirt. “i didn’t know patrick bateman could look this… hot.”
a faint flush creeps onto her cheeks, and she lets out a quiet laugh, rubbing the back of her neck. “yeah, well, didn’t know ‘angelic’ could look so irresistible,” she teases, but her voice softens as her eyes linger on you.
for a beat, the two of you just stand there, the energy between you charged. you’re painfully aware of the way she’s looking at you—like she’s holding back from saying or doing something, thouh—and you can’t stop yourself from mirroring that, a hint of want in your gaze. she clears her throat, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.
“well, i better get to moderating— i don’t want people accidentally slicing themselves instead of a pumpkin.” she murmurs, finally breaking eye contact but not before giving you one last once-over, her eyes lingering a moment longer than necessary. she brings her hand to your hair, using a finger to push away some of the strands framing your face. you gulp a bit, then again after she brushes her knuckles against your cheek. “i like this. the makeup.”
i like you. you fight back the confession.
“thanks.” you swallow, nodding. “well, i should,” you start, playing with her tie out of a burst of confidence. you tug on it just a little, catching her by surprise. her breath hitches just barely. “--get going. i’ll see you.” you say, dropping the piece of fabric in your hand.
as you head toward your booth, the thrill from your brief encounter with minji lingers, leaving you more than a little distracted and hoping she feels it too.
…
you’ve painted more faces than you can count on one hand in only an hour, much to your surprise. if you were to do this full time you’d for sure develop arthritis the second week on the job.
after your tenth person — some kid who just wanted two flowers on her cheeks — danielle taps your shoulder. you turn around, humming in response.
“you look beat,” she says.
your shoulders are drooping, your posture is much worse than when you started, and you’re moving your wrist in a every angle to stretch it out and relieve the soreness.
“you think?”
“hanni says she’ll be over in a bit.” danielle assures, patting you on the back and massaging your back lightly. “the stall will close soon so we can all hangout after.”
“thank god. are the other activities closed?”
“not until before midnight – i think.” you sigh in relief, but danielle adds, “could you grab some stuff from the supply closet though? maybe some more white, blue, and red paint? maybe grab yellow and green too.”
she gives you those eyes again, earning a chuckle. “yeah, yeah. okay.”
“great! just go down and turn right, there’s a brown shed — it’s not creepy, i swear. it’s kind of modern actually.”
“something tells me you’re lying.”
“me? lying?”
you roll your eyes and stand up, then you trudge on over down the gravel. you roll your shoulders back and massage your neck a bit, then fix your costume a bit. it’s funny; you’re at a whole festival and this is the only time you’re exposed to the groups of people, bright lights, and excitement all around — at least for longer than a minute.
turning the corner you reach a shed, one that matches danielle’s description.
danielle isn’t a liar, she never lies — well, she never lies about anything serious. it’s quite modern inside, seemingly new due to the fresh paint smell. it’s lined with wooden shelves, each holding different items. the corners are filled with various decorations, ranging from not only halloween decor but also christmas and even valentines day themed trinkets. you laugh at the little cupid poster in the back, but recollect yourself and focus on the “task” at hand.
you have to rummage through the costumes in the corner to find a small box with face paint in it. the light in the shed isn’t on (there isn’t a switch, only some rustic-type light hanging from above in the middle of the building), so you use your flashlight to help you see clearer.
it takes a bit more time to find the yellow bottle of paint, which is in your hand until you drop it from the sound of the door opening so suddenly.
you jump, gasping ever so lightly before turning around to see a very striking patrick bateman.
minji stands in the doorway, still looking as good as before, looking at you with a perplexed expression.
“what are you doing here?” she asks, looking around the area.
“minji,” you close your eyes, “you scared the shit out of me!”
“i’m sorry…” she says, jutting out her bottom lip and suddenly every ounce of fear is drained from your body. “i didn’t know you were in here.”
“danielle sent me to get more paint.”
“that's funny,” minji steps towards you, looking at the two paint bottles on the floor. “hanni sent me to grab trash bags.”
you don’t respond for a second because minji steps under the antique light above her. it illuminates her face in the best way possible, highlighting the smeared on fake blood and her features. you feel your throat tightening as you stare.
minji’s gaze softens, she steps closer.
“do you know where i could find trash—”
“yes, um, yeah, probably in the corner.” you choke out.
she chuckles, you swallow lightly.
you take the stretch of silence to pick up the two bottles that had dropped out your hand and turn the flash on your phone off. you fix your tank top because minji is still within radius, but she’s busy looking for the trash bags, still.
“i’ll see you later?” you say softly. minji’s head whips around, and there’s a slight frown on her face. before she can respond, you hear a click coming from the door, then stare at the handle with furrowed brows. you reach over to twist the knob, but it barely budges. “what the hell?”
“what?”
“i think it’s locked. did you lock it?”
she shakes her head, her brow furrowing as she steps over, nudging you aside to try the handle herself. she pulls, twisting the knob a little harder than you did, but the door still doesn’t move an inch.
“it’s locked.” she mutters, glancing at you with a hint of worry. “i think we’re stuck.”
you both stare at each other for a beat, the realization sinking in, and suddenly the small shed feels much smaller. you look away first, sighing before turning on your phone.
“i’ll call danielle.” you say, voice steady, though there’s a slight tremor as you dial.
“i’ll try hanni.”
you both dial. danielle doesn’t answer and you huff. you wait for minji, her phone against her ear, and the defeated groan is enough to tell you whether hanni answered or not.
“i guess they’re busy.” minji says, slipping her phone back into her pocket.
for a moment, silence stretches between you both again, an awkward tension settling in. minji shifts, making a weird noise as she brushes dust off her shirt. you can’t help but find it cute. then she adjusts her loose collar, making you clear your throat and glancing around for any other possible way out; there’s none.
the only thing you catch is a window, a window that’s far too small and high for anything to happen.
“we’re stuck.” you mutter, looking back at minji.
“do you think dani and hanni will realize we’re missing?”
“they might be busy…” you pinch the bridge of your nose, resting your head against the door. “i have no idea how we’ll get out.”
you’re stuck with minji. kim minji. the hottest and cutest girl you’ve ever laid eyes on. the girl you think of way too much for it to be platonic. the girl who’s in a costume that genuinely has you considering ruining a friendship. the girl who’s leaning back against the shelf behind her right now, crossing her arms, and who’s eyes are flickering over you as she smiles.
“your costume is really something.” her voice is casual, like you’re not stuck in a shed. there’s also a warmth in her tone that isn’t hidden in the slightest. “i like it a lot. you look heavenly.”
if minji’s trying to ease the tension, she’s doing it very well. her stupid dad joke earns a laugh from you, and now you’re leaning against the door with one side of your body as you keep eye contact.
“thank you minji, your looks could really kill.”
she laughs, gums showing and eyes crinkling. you want her so bad.
“that one was worse than mine.”
“no it wasn’t!”
she rolls her eyes. “it was.” she steps closer leaning her head against the same door and staring hard at every single feature of your face. she glances at your lips briefly, then back up. “bet you’ve turned more than a few heads tonight.”
“maybe,” you feel your voice growing quieter. “but i was stuck at the booth.”
“if i were at the booth i think i’d purposely stay just to see you. you look really pretty tonight y/n, i mean it.”
you blush. “maybe.” there’s a grin that you can’t keep off your face. “i’d say the same for you.”
she chuckles again, looking down at her slightly blood-stained dress shirt. “yeah, i think i took the pumpkin carving part a bit too seriously. got more guts on me than on the pumpkins.” she holds up her hands, still faintly stained with an orange hue, and shakes her head. “i’ll probably smell like pumpkins for a week.”
minji watches you turn to the side, covering your mouth to stifle a giggle.
turning back, you’re mid-laugh when your eyes catch on a smudge of blood across minji’s cheek, just barely out of place. your hand moves without thinking, reaching up to brush it away with your thumb. the laughter fades, the shed shrinking around you, and everything slows, the only movement her skin warming under your touch.
minji’s gaze locks onto yours, intense and unblinking, and there’s something behind it that makes your heart skip. her eyes are barely liddied now, she swallows, biting down on the inside of her lip, before a slow, uncertain smile begins to take over her face.
“you look so good right now,” she murmurs, her voice low, almost rough. her hand reaches up, covering yours, holding it there against her cheek, like she’s trying to commit the moment to memory, almost like it’ll end anytime – soon, or now.
you’re close enough to feel her breath, the slight catch in it. “good enough for you?” you ask softly, a smile playing at your lips, your words teasing, but your heart racing.
she chuckles, but it’s quiet, and her gaze doesn’t waver. “better than good,” she whispers, her hand falling from yours, trailing down to your waist, her fingers grazing the bare skin there, gentle, hesitant, like she’s testing the feel of you, seeing if you’ll pull away, but you don’t. minji smirks. “are you… seeing anyone?”
the question hangs between you, heavy and thrilling. you shake your head, your pulse pounding beneath her touch. “no one at all.”
she exhales, her voice barely above a whisper. “good.” her fingers press into your waist just a little more, her gaze flickering down to your lips, and you watch, almost dizzy, as she wets her own, her tongue darting out, just barely, the movement so subtle you’d miss it if you weren’t so close.
your hand moves from her cheek, trailing slowly down to the open collar of her shirt, brushing along her collarbone. her breath hitches, and her head tilts slightly, just enough for your fingers to press against her skin, her eyes closing for the briefest moment before she meets your gaze again. you don’t realize how close you’ve drawn until you feel her breath warm against your lips.
she glances at your lips for what seems the tenth time. you two are clearly vibrating on the same wave length, it’s evident.
then, with the faintest, almost imperceptible smile, minji closes the space between you, her mouth soft, warm, pressing into yours, a little unsure, like she’s savoring every second of it. her hand at your waist tightens, pulling you closer, her fingertips grazing the curve of your hip as she leans in, her other hand moving to cradle the side of your face, her thumb grazing your cheek. the world around you slips away, and all that’s left is her—the warmth of her lips, the feeling of her touch, and the overwhelming sense that every daydream you had is getting outdone by this moment. this real moment.
it’s so real when she pulls away with rosy cheeks. she looks at you nervously, as if she didn’t just take the oxygen from your lungs.
“was that alright?” she asks, sounding unsure. it’s cute, she’s cute, god she’s so cute.
“perfect.” you mumble.
your hand moves to where her tie is, it’s loose around her collar, making it easier for you to tug her right back into you. she gasps from surprise and groans into your lips, kissing you hard.
her fingers press into your skin and you shiver, parting your lips ever so slightly to sigh softly. minji smirks against your skin, trailing to your jawline with light pecks as you release your grip on her tie and snake your hand around her neck.
“i’ve–” a kiss to the side of your throat, “wanted to—” a kiss lower, “do this for—” and a soft kiss to the base of your neck, “so long.”
your breath shakes after she finishes the sentence, she kisses your neck once more.
minji parts, moving you over so you’re is against some random, heavy box on the side of the shed and now both arms are around your neck. you’re a few more kisses in, mixed with content sighs and groans and handfuls of hair before you two almost bite each other’s lips off from the sound of the door opening.
you barely have time to pull away, minji’s lips are still a breath from yours, her hand lingering at your waist. you both turn to see danielle, hanni, and yunjin standing in the doorway, eyes wide. you and minji spring apart, the movement so fast that it would be funny if you were witnessing the situation.
danielle’s shock morphs into a grin as she exchanges a look with hanni, and yunjin just has a hand over her mouth.
hanni’s mouth drops open before breaking into a smirk, her eyes flickering with pure satisfaction.
“oh my god.” hanni breathes, relief in her voice. “it actually worked.”
before you or minji can respond, utterly confused considering they all look relieved rather than disgusted, yunjin takes one look at you and minji and bursts out laughing,
“i knew it! i knew you two would finally do something if we left you alone long enough.”
minji blinks, looking as if she’s still processing. you glance between them, your cheeks warm. “what?” you say exasperatedly, “what do you mean ‘finally’? what— what is all this?”
The three of them exchange looks before danielle nudges yunjin forward, her grin growing. “so uh, we might’ve had a little something to do with the door locking. maybe on purpose. maybe. perchance.”
“definitely on purpose.” hanni adds, crossing her arms. “we were all tired of watching you guys dance around your feelings. you two needed a push.”
minji stares at them with a mix of embarrassment and dawning realizaiton. then she glances at you, her face flushing before turning back to the trio.
“you all planned this?”
hanni nods, looking like she’s enjoying this way too much. “you guys are hopeless. you know? everyone could see that you two wanted each other except you two. who the hell nudges their friends like that? you both are like middle schoolers with their first crush.”
you exchange yet another glance with minji, who’s biting her lip. there’s a surprise mirroring on her face, and honestly it’s really cute. adorably cute.
despite all the embarrassment, you can’t help but laugh, a little breathless.
“so… this was all a setup?” minji says, looking at them with a half-laugh, half-disbelieving shake of her head.
danielle shrugs, stepping aside to give you both room to leave the shed. “well, it worked, didn’t it?”
yunjin’s grin is teasing as she waves you both out, her eyes bright with excitement. “yeah, finally,” she echoes, a satisfied smirk on her face. you glance at minji, who’s still looking at you, and a shy, almost playful smile tugs at her lips.
and as you both step out of the shed, shoulder to shoulder, the knowing smiles of your friends after they glance behind, there’s a giddiness accompanying the space between you and minji.
they all explain something about your booths being over because you two were too busy making out — you barely listen — and minji nudges your shoulder again when they’re far enough to not hear her.
you turn, tilting your head a bit before she leans down a bit to mumble, “you know, i heard that if you don’t kiss me again, for at least an hour, bloody mary might show up in your room tonight.”
a laugh escapes your lips and you push minji, who’s grinning at you like an idiot. you roll your eyes and reach out to hold her hand, she squeezes yours excitedly.
“that’s a new one. are you sure it’s true?”
minji quickly cups your cheek and steals a kiss, parting away to make sure your friends don’t turn around and tease you two relentlessly.
“that one just got rid of all the bad energy from before.”
“what bad energy?”
“the one that’s building up every second you don’t kiss me. it also builds up if you don’t go out with me for lunch tomorrow. or ever.”
you roll your eyes once more, then glance at your friends before kissing minji’s cheek.
“i can’t risk any of that, can i?”
#kpop x reader#newjeans x reader#newjeans fluff#newjeans minji#kim minji#minji#minji x reader#kim minji x reader
634 notes
·
View notes
Text
Be warned. I wrote this at midnight. I have no clue what im talking about. Do you get it?
"Why doesn't this wolverine teach history? Other wolverine did"
Well, because THAT Wolverine had a Charles. Let me remind you just how fragile Logan's mental state is and just how quickly his brain can throw him into a temporary amnesia due to shock and / or panic that is triggered by his CPTSD.
The thing is, this Wolverine has a Wade. Not a Charles. Sure, Jean could probably do something to him if things got too crazy but you know just how dangerous of territory that would be. Yes, Charles doesn't have a healing factor but it was his confidence and perfect reassuring words that helped him, plus If something did happen Im pretty sure he wouldn't blame him much anyway. He knows what hes dealing with. This isnt to say that jean doesn't but I can see her panicking too much and Logan would feed off of that fear and panic and become worse.
Wade, on the other hand, is neither calm nor says the right things, BUT he can't die :D Which is a massive YES when it comes to dealing with a panicking 3+ time war veteran with knife hands. And is known to attack first ask later.
Trying to teach the kids about 'Nam, a thing sets him off. He stares off into space for a bit, Backs up and his breath gets heavy. The hairs on his arms are raised up and his pupils dilate, they widden and its as if he doesn't even remember he's a teacher.
When he starts the whole "Who are you? Where am I!?" Thing, a student (probably the oldest or one that's been dubbed most responsible) slowly just gets up and leaves to tell a trusted adult.
"Mrs. Munroe?"
"Yes?"
"Mr. Howlett is acting funny again."
"Okay darling. Go fetch Mr. Wilson for me? There's a dear."
She, calm as ever walks into the class room, standing away from the door so not to make him feel trapped, and very clearly shows her hands as she gestures the kids to leave.
Backing himself into a corner, he watches them one by one leave, Gripping at the chalk boards ledge and the windowsil, trying to balance and ground himself.
"Come now children. Quietly and slowly please. Good job. Go next door to Mrs. Summers please." Sending them to the next class room so to leave this one empty.
She stands off to the side of the room. Hands in front of her, smiling softly. "Hello Logan."
"What? Who are you?" He almost hisses but can't help but to feel not so threatened. He always did have a sweet spot for women. Maybe its their scent difference, but like most reactive animals, he's a little calmer for women. A little more trusting.
"Im a dear friend of yours. My name is Ororo. You are in no danger here." She states this practiced sentence with the same whisper of a voice.
"Where the fuck am I. How did I get here!? Did you bring me here!?" At this point he's growling.
"Logan, I assure you that no one forced you here. This is a school. You're a teacher."
"A teacher..?" Just a tad he softens, as if you had just told someone who wanted to be a vet when they grew up that they actually would become a very good vet, except the look in his eyes was as if questioning why they would ever him do that. Be a teacher I mean.
"Yes. If you would like to leave that is okay." She slowly sits in a spare chair, her leg crossing, not knowing how long she will need to play baby sitter but she hoped someone soon would alert the other staff of this. It IS a safety risk after all and Ororo knew that if he hurt anyone at all he'd immediately regret it terribly so when he woke.
"You.. you told her to go get someone. Why? Who are you getting? For what!?" Another snap, as if he thought she was trying to trick him into letting his gaurd down.
She smiles. "Your husband."
"What the fuck do you mean my 'husband'!? What are you sayin' lady!?" The venom in the way he says this makes her giggle a bit. Oh, goodness. He really did lose all of his memories, didn't he? How was the same man who once was so dastardly in love with scott to the point of shredding his heart into a gazillion pieces and is married to the silliest man alive, so internally homophobic? The irony of the thought made her laugh.
"And that kids is how you slice someone into sushi. Rice not included-" His weapons tatics and saftey class is interrupted.
"Mr. Wilson?"
"Oh hey, squirt! You wanna learn how to disconnect someone's joints without even leaving a puncture wound?"
"Maybe later.. uhm...Mr. Howlett's scared again..."
You just see Wade running out on these kids like "I'M COMING WOLVIE!"
"What, you think it's funny!? I ain't got a husband lady! Now, Im leaving! And there's nothing you can do to stop me!" He goes to walk out the door only to run into said husband, who immediately hugs him.
"Babe!! Hi! They told me- OUCH- okay yeah I deserved that- no tocuhy I forgot."
And is stabbed.
"What the fuck is wrong with you!? Get off me! Freak!"
"D'aawww!! Did you see that? He called me a freak! I hate to tell ya cupcake, but you're married to this freak. Now, what's wrOOW- Mad kitty are we? Woah there tiger! Easy boy!"
Logan looks at him, confused, stabs him again, and is trying to figure out why Wade's not dying. He goes to slash him in the head and wades like "WAITWAITWAIT NOT INFRONT OF THE KIDS-"
Mrs. Munroe, by now, has gotten up and left, closing the door and letting out a big sigh, wondering what shade of red they were going to paint the room this time.
She does a little clicky on her walkie and infroms all the staff about the situation and so for the next half hour or so, Logan's kids get to skip class and said classroom now needs a deep scrub.
And this ladies and gentlemen is why this Logan doesn't teach history anymore.
P.E. is SOOOO much easier on his mental status, and sometimes Wade joins, and he puts the whole class against him to make them work on their team building skills. Plus- it's funny to watch your husband get slapped in the head with 20 dodgeballs.
#deadpool and wolverine#poolverine#logan howlett#deadpool#wade wilson#deadpool 3#finding home au#worst wolverine#is the best#ororo munroe#storm xmen#storm#Headmistress storm#jean grey#xmen jean grey#charles xavier#professor x#charles xavier was for real Logans handler for the longest time#and now thats wades job#very scary#vietnam war#living with cptsd#x mansion
511 notes
·
View notes
Text
Not-So Secretive Rendezvous
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~2k
Warnings: smut, fem!receiving, age gap
Request by anon: I'd love a Spencer X Fem Reader thing, say season 3-4 prince charming hair version ya know? That era is totally hot. Anyway, reader is Hotch's sister or Daughter, 10 year age gap between reader & Spence. I'm a total sucker for a forbidden, sneaking, secretive thing with them getting caught in a very compromising position. Hotch is fine with it but disappointed they didn't clear it with him. Maybe she works in the BAU but maybe not? Some hot spice with his awkward self. I always have a thought of him being so awkward around women in social situations like with JJ in the baseball game stuff, but with his Eidetic memory he definitely knows how to please women for sure. Any other details i'll leave you with free rein!
Summary: You and Spencer are a new couple that is hiding your relationship from the team for two reasons. Hotch is your dad and Spencer is ten years older than you are. That doesn’t stop you from being with him. Not your dad and certainly not an office full of people.
Square Filled: public sex/voyeurism (2021) for @cm-kinkbingo
Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3
x
There are two reasons why you’re at the BAU--Spencer and Hotch. This is the place you want to work when you have the proper training and have done everything that’s required of you. You graduated high school before summer started and now you’re taking college classes with a degree in criminal justice while also getting in some hours at the police academy. It doesn’t hurt that your dad is the unit chief of the BAU, but you try not to let that affect how well you’re doing in and out of school.
The other reason is Spencer Reid. You two immediately hit it off when you first met and he’s been showing you around as much as he can without getting in trouble. He can’t tell you much about the cases the team has but he can give you advice and pointers for when you get a job here. Derek helps you with the physical stuff while Spencer is your own personal library book that just so happens to have all the answers you’re searching for.
After a few months of visiting your dad and the team, you and Spencer developed a relationship that only you two know about. Keeping your relationships a secret isn’t something you normally do because if you like someone, you’re all about showing them off to everyone. However, you and Spencer are ten years apart in age, and you don’t think your dad will appreciate his eighteen-year-old daughter hooking up with his twenty-eight-year-old subordinate.
It’s not a big deal to you and Spencer since you’re not newly eighteen. It’s September and you turned eighteen back in January. He’s been so good to you and is such a gentleman. He’s a romantic and loves taking you out on dates as much as he can. Your favorite date is when he puts a tent on the roof of his building, makes everything for a picnic, and you two spend the night stargazing there.
Unlike now when your visit is anything but romantic.
It’s been over a week since you’ve seen Spencer and you’re craving his touch. You’re not normally a sex-crazed teenager but you’re ovulating and you really need to feel his body on yours. You’re not ready for kids and you don’t know if or when you will be, so you’ll be using condoms because it’s a terrible time to get pregnant.
Not to mention your dad will quite literally kill Spencer.
“Hey, Y/N, what are you doing here?” Derek asks when he sees you.
“Just wanted to stop by to say hi. I hear the B Team is out right now so what better time to come?”
“Your dad is in his office.”
“Where’s Spencer.”
“Bathroom.”
“Okay, I’ll wait for him. Thanks.”
You turn to leave but Derek stops you.
“Hey, we’re still on for tomorrow, right?”
“Yeah, I’m ready to learn that new self-defense technique.”
You walk straight for Spencer’s desk only to walk right past it and toward the bathrooms. Derek smirks and shakes his head knowing you’re not here to see your dad at all. Spencer comes out of the bathroom with his phone in his hand so he doesn’t see you right away. You open the door to an empty office and wait for him to pass by it before grabbing his arm and pulling him inside.
“Wha--?” He looks up and smiles when he sees it’s you. “Hey, baby. I didn’t know you were coming today.” You close and lock the door before shutting the blinds so that no one can look inside. “What are you doing?”
“Come here.”
You pull Spencer in and kiss him without warning, and he grips your hips not too hard. He gets lost in the kiss before the alarm bells ring in his head.
“Wait, wait, wait.” Spencer pulls away from you but you’re not done kissing him. You back up into the desk and sit on it while kissing down his neck. “Not that I’m not happy to see you but we can’t do this here.”
“Why not? Don’t you want me?”
“Of course I do.”
“Then get me naked and fuck me.” It’s hard to think when all Spencer is thinking about is getting you naked. He’s not a sex machine who wants it all the time but it has been a week since he’s seen you, and the last case he went on was very stressful. “School has been stressing me out and I really just want some dirty sex with you.”
You don’t have to tell him twice. He spreads your legs and steps in between them before kissing you again. He runs his hands down your thighs and back up, only to slip them underneath your dress. You wanted to make sure you gave Spencer easy access. He expected to feel a barrier between his fingers and your pussy but there is none.
“You’re not wearing any panties?”
“I came here for one thing and one thing only,” you grin. “I wanted to make this easier for you.”
Spencer rolls his head back and cracks his neck before sinking to his knees. He’s not an expert in this department but he’s read enough books and watched enough amateur porn to know what he’s doing. He places a hand on your chest, pushes you down onto the desk, and bunches your dress around your waist.
“Remember, we’re at work and your dad’s office is right down the hall. You gotta be quiet.”
You’re about to respond when Spencer latches onto your clit. You slap a hand over your mouth to muffle the moan that slips out. It would be a disaster if your dad found out about this… or anyone. He kitten licks your clit and circles it before sliding his tongue down to your slit. He straightens his tongue and pushes inside of you, and his right-hand hooks up and over your leg so that he can rub your clit in hard fast circles.
“Fuck, Spencer, right there,” you gasp quietly.
“God, you taste so good,” he mumbles. “I can’t ever get enough.”
You reach down and slide your fingers into his hair before tugging on it gently. This is the exact reason why he’s been growing his hair out. He loves it when you tug on his hair. His mouth and fingers switch positions so that he’s sucking on your clit and sliding a finger into your tight hole. You squeal a bit loudly at the sudden change in pressure, and you bite down on your lower lip to prevent yourself from crying out again.
“Please, Spencer, I need more,” you moan.
He slides in another finger and curls them both so that he’s touching the spot that makes you see stars.
“Are you close?”
“Yes, fuck, yes.”
“Do you want to come?”
“Yes, please, Spencer,” you moan.
“Go ahead, darling.”
He gives a particularly hard suck on your clit that makes you come all over his face. He removes his fingers and laps up every drop you give him before standing to his full height.
“God, you’re so good at that.” You pull him down and kiss him, not minding that you can taste yourself on his lips. “I need to come again. I have a condom in the pocket of my dress.”
“You’re so needy,” he grins but doesn’t refuse you.
He pulls away and takes the condom you give him before unbuckling his pants. He’s always awkward at this part because he still can’t believe that he has someone who is interested in him like this. He’s not ripped like Derek or as confident as him but you like him because he’s none of those things. You love how socially awkward he is. You love his ramblings. You especially love it when he tells you random facts that have you questioning how he came to know that in the first place.
Spencer pulls his cock out and you almost salivate at the sight of it. You’ve given him blow jobs before but there will never be a time when you don’t want to suck him off. However this time, you just need him to be in you. He takes out the condom from the package and carefully rolls it onto his hard cock.
“Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Yes, Spencer, please. Just get in me.”
You spread your legs wider and allow him to step closer to you. He pumps himself twice before lining himself up at your entrance. You toss your head back and gasp at the one… three… seven inches of him until he is fully seated inside of you.
“Let me know when you’re ready,” Spencer groans.
“I’m ready. Please, Spencer,” you beg.
He doesn’t want to be too loud so he doesn’t fuck you as hard as he wants to. He starts at a normal pace before slowly picking up speed, and you’re trying to stop the moans from coming out but failing. He covers your mouth with his hand as if that will stop you from moaning his name.
It’s been a long and stressful time for you both so it doesn’t take long for the two of you to get close to the edge.
“Fuck, I’m gonna come.” Hearing Spencer swear when he normally doesn’t is so hot. He hates swearing since he has such a big range of vocabulary that he can use, but he can’t help it when you feel like Heaven. “Are you close?” You nod wordlessly since Spencer’s hand is still over your mouth. “Come with me. One.” Thrust. “Two.” Thrust. “Three.”
You explode all over him just as he fills the condom up. He rides out both your highs as much as he can before slowing down. He removes his hand and you gasp when you feel him start to pull out of you.
“I don’t know how you haven’t had more girlfriends before,” you laugh as you pant.
“It’s usually my incessant need to ramble that drives them away.”
He takes the condom off and ties it at the end before pocketing it., He doesn’t want anyone to find it in the trashcan so he’ll throw it out in the dumpster outside.
“Have you seen Y/N? I saw her come in earlier.”
You freeze when you hear your dad’s voice outside the office.
“I think she went to see Garcia. You should ask her,” Rossi responds from right by the door. You hear your dad walk away before Rossi knocks twice on the door. “You two aren’t very quiet or sneaky.”
“Shit, I should go,” you giggle. You fix your dress and Spencer tucks himself back into his pants. The room smells like sex but you’re sure it will air out by the time anyone else comes in here. “I love you and I can’t wait to see you on Sunday.”
You lean in and kiss Spencer before unlocking the door.
“I love you, too,” Spencer grins. “We should do this again sometime.”
“Oh, we definitely are.” You open the door and notice Rossi is in the break room. You make sure the coast is clear before leaving the office. You turn the corner and go crashing into your dad. “Daddy, hi. I was just looking for you. Someone said you wanted to see me?”
Hotch looks up and sees Spencer leave the office from which you just came out. He didn’t bother fixing his hair as much as he should have so it’s a big messed up from how much you were tugging on it, and your lipstick is a bit smudged from Spencer’s hand over your mouth.
Hotch isn’t an idiot.
“My office. Now.”
You look up to see him looking at someone behind you. You look back and see Spencer staring at Hotch with wide, fearful eyes.
“Daddy, listen--”
“Don’t you have a class to go study for? Reid, now.”
“Yes, sir,” he nods and scurries past you to get to his office.
“Daddy, I love him. Please don’t kill him. I’ll talk to you later.”
You leave before your dad can say anything else. Hotch isn’t mad that Spencer is seeing his daughter. He’s upset that you two hid it from him. He’s not gonna kill Spencer but it is sure going to be fun to watch him squirm because he thinks he is.
x
Want to be tagged? Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid angst#spencer reid fictino#spencer reid fan fic#spencer reid fan fiction#criminal minds#criminal minds fic#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds angst#criminal minds fiction#criminal minds fan fiction#criminal minds fan fic
421 notes
·
View notes