#but moments like these i do appreciate in their own way

[loveanddeepdick]

‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅ hi angel!

obsesssed!perv!geto x f!reader || suguru keeps jacking off to you! stop it sugu!

here is a link to my obsessed!geto masterlist this fic is crazy btw pls click off if u get uncomfy

cw and notes: LOWK WRITTEN NASTYILY AND HORNYBRAINED, im gonna be honest its a mess of all the shit i like, kinda gross geto lol, groping, sir kink, dom/sub coded, obsession, unhealthy behavior, dubcon touchin, nudes, indecent exposure but in the comfort of your own home, piv sex, nipple play, creampie, teasing, masturbation, multiple rounds, posessiveness, this is a little insane of me but per the request of deepdick citizens i as your mayor will deliver, not proofead lol

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geto suguru has no shame.

from the moment you met him until now, he always says everything and anything on his mind. when he first asked you out, he pulled you aside, gripping your shoulder as he bluntly confessed to you.

"we'll have dinner tomorrow. 8pm at nobu," he smiled before patting your shoulder and walking away. you damn near got whiplash as you swiveled your head around, speechless as he just nonchalantly walked off.

but if you thought he spoke his mind without any repercussions, you should've seen what he did to the coworker who was harassing you. he's heard about her during one of your stories about work, crazy customers, unhinged coworkers, careless higher-ups.

she was long gone the day you returned to work.

in a way, he loved that you didn't mind his straightforward behavior , that you appreciated how transparent he was. but with that also came with your nympho boyfriend jacking off anywhere and everywhere in your shared apartment. he walks around with his dick out for fucks sake, and today, you swore he was on some aphrodisiac.

9:14am. friday morning.

you were cooking up breakfast in your shared kitchen, humming as you sipped from your mug. you heard the heavy creaking of suguru's feet on the wooden floor approaching as he yawned. he was inhumanly tall, lanky and skinny yet toned whenever he stretched.

he groaned scratched his stomach underneath his black tank, lifting it up to reveal his dark happy trail.

"morning, baby," he grunted, wrapping his arms around your neck as he leaned down, pressing his chest to your back as he inhaled your scent.

"brush your teeth, su-" you paused as he pressed his nose into the crook of your neck, behind you ears, and the top of your head. you silently cursed, feeling something hard growing against your back. "again, suguru?".

you lightly pushed his head back before he whined and buried his nose in your hair again, inhaling deeplty.

"you smell so good, angel," he was nearly whimpering, his cock growing harder, "please, baby, just let me have my morning fill,"

you bit your cheek to keep a poker face, grabbing bowls for you and suguru before bending over the counter

"help yourself," you playfully sighed before grabbing the pans and plating the food. he grinned, giving you kisses in your hair before pulling your pajamas and panties down, taking his cock out to jack off to your ass. "make it quick, suguru,"

"fuucck, youre so hot, just keep.. keep doing what you were doing," he spat into fist before fucking his dick into it.

"you're such a pervert, suguru," you mumbled, bending over a little more to give him a better view.

"keep calling me that, turns me on," there was hearts in his eyes, watching your cute pajama pants scrunched around your knees as your pussy and little asshole was twitching and puckering just for him.

like clockwork, he squirted white ropes, coating your pussy as it dripped down onto your panties. he kneeled down, pulling your panties up to your cum soaked pussy before he brought a finger up to run it against the crotch area, poking around at his sealed cum against your hole.

"so gross," you rolled your eyes.

"yeah? but you stand there, you take it, and you love it, don't you?" he chuckled, pressing his nose in to inhale as you yelp, making you bend over just a little better as he sniffed in the nasty mix.

with a kiss to your clothed pussy, he pulled your pajamas back up, getting back to his feet with a gentle smack to your ass.

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11:52pm, friday afternoon

you get a text during your lunch break from suguru. what could he need this time? well, you had an idea.

>'hi, angel im otw with some lunch for you'

>'doing what i asked you to, aren't you?'

you hid your blush even though you were alone in your office. there, under your tight skirt and white cotton panties, was suguru's load was pressed wetunder your panties, your thighs squeezing together and keeping the cum warm.

<mhm im in my office

>[video attatchment]

you opened the video with low volume. he was in his car, holding a polaroid of you. he's in the parking garage of the apartment complex with his zipper down, his cock pink and standing tall. the video is only a minute long as he jacks off to your picture, his cock tip nearly touching your face on the polaroid before he cums, covering the entire thing.

what a nasty man.

you hear a knock on your door before he comes in, your thighs instinctively trying to hide your arousal from his teasing words. you place your phone on your desk as he approaches, chuckling at the sight of your not-so-well hidden flustered face.

"what's wrong, angel?" he mocked, grinning before he stood before you, his pointer finger lightly stroking your jaw as you peered up at his form.

his tall, dark form is almost eerie as he leaned down a little to look at you. he had hurricanes in his eyes as they bore into yours before trailing down a bit to your cleavage poking out from your white button-up. what a pervert. even then, it was like peering into heaven after centuries damned in hell.

your arms drift up and around his waist before you embrace his toned figure, your cheek pushed into his sweater.

"my eyes aren't as low as where you're looking, you creep,"

"just means i can focus on two things at once, huh?"

you playfully slap him before he grabs your wrist, pulling you up from your chair and pinning your against your desk, your chest against his ribcage as he peers down upon you.

"missed you so much," he breathed out before his eyes trailed down, his hands coming up to trace your figure, his hands stopping to cup your tits through your clothes as you squirmed and closed your legs, "keep them open,"

his knee came in between your legs, parting them and leaving you. vulnerable to him.

"you been a good girl today, hm?" he chuckled, giving your tits a squeeze before one of his hands travelled down to your skirt, lifting it up to reveal your nearly see-through panties squished up on his leg.

"yes, sir.." you the inside of your cheek to bite back a moan as he began slighly moving his leg up and down.

he guided you to sit on the desk as he knelt, lifting your skirt as he looked at your panties with hearts in his eyes. you leaned back a bit so he could take them off. his fingers hooked both sides of your panties as he slowly peeled.

"ffuuckkk, angel," he hissed as the mixture of his cum and your arousal strung to your pussy as he pulled down your panties, the crotch area gooey and smearing the sticky substance all over your pussy.

you whined as he licked a hard stripe from your perineum to your clit, giving it a loud suck before leaning back, showing you the nasty mix on his tongue before swallowing it with a shit eating grin.

"gross perv- ah, fuck!" you couldn't even finish your sentence before his head dove in between your legs again, lapping at your pussy as he flicked it with his tongue and shoved his face deep between your thighs, using his hands to push them together and trap his face.

"suuguuu..." you whined as you grinded on his face

"use my face, baby, y'taste so fucking good, nobody knows this sloppy pussy like i fuckin' do," he pulled off your clit with a slurp before spitting on it, "say it. say i know this pussy the best,"

"y-you know this pussy the best, sir!" you gripped his long silky hair before your heart dropped into your pussy, "w-wait sir, something c-coming!"

"just let it happen, angel, let go for me, it's gonna feel good i promise," he groaned into your pussy before you twitched, convulsing as you squirted into his mouth. he latched onto your pussy, sucking your clit and messily lapping his touch as he drank your juices.

"so.. gross, sugu,"

"lunch break's over, sweetheart," he chuckled with a kiss after he helped you clean up, "tell your coworkers i said hi,"

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6:07 pm, friday evening

suguru loves watching you eat. he rarely ever works in person, preferring to have his spirit consultations online (where he loves to scam rich people who exploit others). before you come home from work, he makes sure to make you a nice home-cooked meal or get takeout from somewhere you love.

he watches you eat, savoring each spoonful and gushing on and on about how good it tastes. the small smile on his face looks like little cracks on a china plate. to any other person, it would seem as though his reaction was neutral, but you knew this meant he was ecstatic.

later, you flopped on your bed, landing atop the blankets on your back as you sigh happily from the food. he comes up to you, climbing into bed to sit against the headboard before he reached down and rubbed your stomach lightly with his thumb,

"tummy must be all fun huh, angel?" he chuckled, "should i put on a movie?"

you nod, rolling over onto your stomach as you rest your cheek on your crossed arms, shuffling pressing your side against geto's as he watches you swing your feet in the air a bit.

suguru puts on a horror movie and you groan, realizing it was his turn to choose. you haven't seen this one yet, an old classic thriller probably. some stupid killer on the loose with more stupid people getting killed probably.

he watches you, the way you seem so intrigued with the plot, the way your back moves up and down as you breath, your little laughs when the characters make a joke. he just can't help the blood rushing down to his crotch. the movie plays as you begin to drift off before you hear the shuffling of fabric.

before you turn around, you hear him cough and spit into his hand. the sounds of his spit-soaked hand going up and down his cock, sloppy and desperate for relief as he gets so turned on by you doing anything.

"suguu.. are you jacking off right now?" you gasp, your head whipping around to see him pumping his cock with a expressionless face.

"just focus, baby," he grunted, "you look so cute right now,"

you shifted, sitting against the headboard with him, snuggled up to his side as you watched him masturbate. it wasn't weirdest thing, in fact, this was probably the most normal thing going on in your home. he draped his arm around you, resting it on the headboard as you shyly watched him.

"you're so pretty, suguu," you breathed as he sped up his strokes

with a groan, he finishes on his hand, bringing it up to your lips so you could clean it.

"goood girl, always so obedient, aren't you?" he smiles as you release his finger with a pop, licking his hand clean and drifting your focus back to the movie. you try to swallow it covertly but the way his eyes dart to you face shows that he noticed. he nestled closer to you, his arm resting on your thigh.

the movie continued, suguru not even bothering to put his dick back and going bare in your room (ew) before his arm shifted again, the arm around you dropping lower until his fingers were grazing your shoulder. with a blush you squirm as his hand begins to travel down to your clothed chest, resting on it.

you glare at him before focusing on the movie again until you feel him squeeze it lightly, his finger coming up to draw circles around you covered nipple. biting back a moan, you drift your hand closer to his cock until the killer from the movie pops up with a loud bang, scaring you as you yelp.

your clothed clit grazes against geto's fingers as you jump. he holds back a laugh for your sake, watching you scared expression from the film as he keep his fingers against your clit. after a couple minutes, he begins rubbing it gently through your panties.

you moan, pawing at his wrist gently as you babble about watching the movie. he knew you didn't give two shits about the shitty cgi two-star film.

"you don't want it? tell me if you don't want it, baby, i'll stop," he mumbles against your hear as his groping and rubbing stops for a moment, waiting for your response only to be met with silence. he smiles against your ear before he lifts you up, laying you down on the previous position on your stomach again as he sits behind you.

"you wanna focus? then focus."

he watches you squirm, your fluffy pajama shorts hugging your figure as he can almost swear he can see your pussy. he stalks like a predator hunting prey behind you, trapping you under him as he pulls your panties aside.

"don't get scared, baby," he chuckles, "you jumping is only gonna make me feel good,"

he thrusts his dick deep into you as you moan, gripping the sheets as your feet kicked against the bed from the sudden intrusion. he pressed his body against you, leaning into your neck as he inhales your scent, his hand coming up to your face to shove his fingers into your mouth.

"y'look just like the person on screen, sweetheart," he grunts as you dart your eyes to the film, seeing the victims of the killer trapped in a basement with their arms restrained and their mouths duct taped.

what a strange movie.

he presses his body weight on your back as he drills mean thrusts deep into your pussy, his fat cock head pushing against your cervix as you drool on his fingers. you closed your eyes in fear of getting scared by the fictional killer again, but seeing your cute face all scrunched up and choking on his lanky fingers only made him thrust harder.

"shhuuuguu," you choke as he holds you down under him, his mean hips fucking you over and over again.

"gonna cum, angel? yeahh? good girl, take this dick-fuck, i was made for this fuckin sloppy pussy,"

he groans as you nod and drool, enjoying your slurry of words as he pushes his fingers deeper. you convulse and squeze around his cock, milking him until he came with a loud groan. he continues thrusting slowly even after that, letting you ride out your orgasm until he stills in your cum-fill pussy.

he takes his fingers out your mouth, popping them in his mouth to suck them before turning your face to meet his eyes. giving you a soft kiss on your lips, he carries you out your room to properly clean you up.

what a messy girl

[lunebulous]

Playing with your body in non-sexual ways

A.N: This is my first time writing fanfiction. Any feedback is very much appreciated. I hope you enjoy! I have no idea what tags to put here so, just trust me bro. cw: thigh worshipping (zayne), plus-size reader (rafayel).

Xavier

There wouldn’t be a lot of occasions where his caresses would be in a non sexual way - that's why he's known to be a wolf in sheep's clothing. But don't get me wrong, being sexual does not equal condescending or rough. Not for him. - well, sometimes. - It's just that if he focuses too long on your face when you’re sleeping soundly, or when you're admiring the lantern lights at another festival, he gets this sensation that he should own you once more, just to be sure you're his. 

So when he kisses, it's only to leave you wanting more of him.  So when he caresses your body, it's only to let himself know he's the one making your skin get goosebumps.  So when he embraces all of you in a tight hug, it’s only to feel like you’re finally real this time.  And when all of these inevitably turn into that feeling of ownership again, he frowns internally. Initially, he wishes that he was different and that he wouldn’t feel like this everytime he stops to think about you; But it's just so much love that it overflows from his heart, dripping right into the lowest part of his torso. When he realizes, he’s slowly kissing you against the wall again. He can’t help it, he's naturally drawn to you like a magnet. And that feeling gives place to a necessity, a craving that hurts so deliciously he gives up on being different. So when you gasp for air and tug at his hair to breathe a little, he just can’t understand why. Or how can you do this to him. He wants more. And more. And more. He needs it so bad he can’t help but pin your hands to the wall so he can kiss you longer, raveling in the way you squirm under him. After all, just because he can't help it, doesn't mean he's not enjoying every second of the fruits of his own possessiveness.

So he caresses you all the time - the problem is that it often turns into a primal need to own and to explore each cute face - each little sound - you make for him. He feels like a victim to his own desires. Poooor Xavier… (irony included).

Rafayel

Rafayel is completely enamoured by your hands, making sure to always kiss them whenever he gets the chance. When he doesn’t, he’s more than expected to caress them while you wait for food in a nice restaurant, or when you’re walking on the shore with him. He is the king of intertwining your hands all the time - never letting go even if for brief moments. He says his bodyguard should be aware of where he is at all times, and when you replied that having one of your hands busy would actually get in the way if danger arrives, he puffed his chest, saying something along the lines of “i’m lucky I have the best bodyguard that can fight 10 men with only one hand then!”. You sighed, giggling because of him. “You’re not actually expecting me to fight with 10 men without letting go of your hand, right?” “Well, I'm pretty sure that was on your job description when I hired you.”  “No it wasn’t.” “Now it is.”  --- He also kisses and grabs your stomach and love handles all the time, especially when lying down, like now. There were some times when it made you feel a little bit insecure, but he always buried his face on it with a big smile, hugging your waist. When you voiced your insecurity to him for the first time, he simply said: “Well, I never saw a painting of any muse that didn’t have enough body for me to drown in it. - he stares up at you intently, before looking at your stomach again. - In fact, it is the only scenario where drowning would be possible for me. - Now he’s getting a hold of your love handles. - And actually, i'd love it. Thank you, my muse!” Right before nuzzling his face on your belly again, giggling. You blush furiously, caressing his purple locks, but he’s too busy to see it.

Zayne

Zayne would always need a bit of a push to touch you like he wants to - and you know that. He’s slowly coming out of his shell and being more confident when it comes to being intimate with you, getting over his irrational fear of hurting you again. The ‘push’ he got today was seeing you come home after brunch with your friends, wearing a dark and muted red lipstick, blended on your lips so perfectly it reminded him of a vintage doll. He made a note to himself to compliment you later when you had your attention on him - because you were busy taking off your shoes, your coat and yapping about some BIG gossip you just found out. He listens attentively, putting two and two together with you as you happily stride towards him. 

You sit beside him on the couch and hug his arm, leaning on his shoulder. He places his hand between your thighs, trying not to pay too much attention to it - a task quite hard for him, as you were wearing light brown stockings that made your oh-so-loved thighs look even more bite-deserving; But he tries to shake the thought away. 

It doesn’t take long before you’re well-invested in the documentary he is watching, but the position is getting quite uncomfortable now, so you crawl between his legs and rest your back against his chest, both of you laying down on the chaise part of the couch. First he stares at you, finding adorable how you don’t hesitate before making yourself comfortable with him. He lays a chaste kiss on the crown of your head, making you snuggle against him even more, getting it just right like two puzzle pieces. And he swears to himself he’s a good man. He is not going to turn this into something more just because your ass grinded against him innocently, no, no. Breathe, you touch-starved man! 

But the same man now is fighting for his life to NOT look at your thighs, the stockings making them look so shiny for him, he couldn't help himself but imagine the shadows his fingers pressing onto your skin would look like. He imagined you in not-so-innocent lightings more than he’d ever admit, and as his thoughts stray away, he doesn’t notice how he’s been caressing your chest and collarbones for some time now, lightly using his fingertips to circle around your skin, as if memorizing each part of it. Then he's slowly directing his way to your neck, with four fingers on one side and his thumb on the other, going up and down with featherly touches as his eyes are glued to your legs, completely blank, admiring each curve going from the arch of your feet to your calves, and then to your thighs, stopping at the start of your tight skirt. Now he’s gripping your neck - just lightly pressing on it, your airflow is completely free. (for now). You can’t help but wonder what’s going on inside his mind, lying to yourself that feeling his firm hand around your neck is not making you want to rub your legs together, but you're already doing it a bit, discreetly, not knowing you’re being very thoroughly watched. As he’s breathing deeper to try to not get excited, you feel his hand slowly letting go of your neck and you whine inwardly at it. But then his hands hesitantly go higher, his slender fingers sliding across your chin to play with your lips as he remembered to compliment you. He opens his mouth to do it, but being so lost in thought he just stops. Staring at your legs with an empty gaze, completely out of it. God, they’d look so good around his cock. Fuck.  You look up, a bit surprised with his actions, slowly tilting your head to the side, looking at him. - the movement makes him get out of his trance, suddenly confused as to how his fingers got to your lips - but as if reading his mind, you part them, waiting. And then he gets it. The key to making himself touch you like he wants to is just to - not think. It makes sense, it's a part of him he never let himself explore. He then lets himself do what he wants, sliding his middle and index finger on your tongue, experimenting. As you close your lips around them, looking at him so puppy-eyed, he can't help but smirk as realizing he could get used to this very quickly. You start feeling him growing against your ass now.

He presses down on your tongue, smiling. “You look so beautiful wearing this color, love.”

So, Zayne doesn’t play with any part of your body - because as soon as he does it, he gets a problem under his trousers. And now that he knows how to let go of control, - you got one too.

Sylus

Sylus wouldn’t be the type of man to touch you without being full-on intentional with it. The same amount of hate he has towards ‘quickies’, he has for the idea of touching your most sensitive parts without being completely devoted to them. So when playing with you, it is usually filled with admiration and love, silently appreciating your presence by his side. That’s why you often find him mindlessly braiding your hair as you lay your head on his lap to watch a movie, or how he gently runs his fingernails - once claws - on your calf under the table when he’s discussing his next moves with the twins. Yeah, sometimes his hands wander a little bit higher, a little bit firmer, but always looking at you to watch your reaction; as if to just - test the waters, tease you to see your ears turn red.. or warm you up for what’s coming next.

[kiwriteswords]

Jealous Angsty Hotch is my favorite

Envy is the bond between the hopeful and the damned [Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader]

Masterlist || Ao3||Word Count: 3.1k|| AN: I am so sorry this one took me so long!

Tags/Warnings: jealous Hotch, bombshell reader, flirtatious Derek, canon-typical themes, canon-typical injuries, angst, argument, established relationship, secret relationship, BAU reader, undercover operation

Summary: Aaron Hotchner never considered himself a possessive man. He was on board to keep his relationship with you a secret, that was...until Derek Morgan increasingly got under his skin with his flirtatious comments toward you.

Aaron Hotchner was never one to wear his heart on his sleeve. His stoic demeanor and calculated expressions were hallmarks that defined him both as the Unit Chief of the Behavioral Analysis Unit and as a man who guarded his private life fiercely.

Yet, despite his best efforts to keep his emotions under wraps, recent developments were challenging his usual composure.

You had been part of the BAU team for a couple of years now, blending seamlessly into the fabric of the group with your sharp analytical mind and equally sharp wit. You were undeniably beautiful—a fact that had not escaped the notice of the team, especially Derek Morgan. Morgan, with his charming smile and flirtatious banter, had always found a way to make his admiration for you known. The team often teased you about being 'Morgan's type,' laughter and light jests filling the air around such comments. Initially, Hotch had found it amusing, a harmless part of team dynamics. But things had changed.

Lately, his feelings for you had deepened into something more profound, something private and intensely personal. The two of you had started seeing each other outside of work, cautiously at first, but with growing seriousness. It was a secret affair, hidden behind closed doors and knowing glances that only the two of you could interpret.

However, Morgan's casual flirtations were starting to stir a feeling Hotch was unaccustomed to—jealousy. Today, during a brief downtime in the bullpen, Morgan had sauntered over to your desk, leaning close enough that his voice was exclusively yours to hear.

"Hey, pretty lady, how about we grab dinner tonight? My treat," Morgan suggested, his smile broad and inviting. The team perked up, the usual teasing poised on the tips of their tongues.

You looked up at him, your expression a mix of amusement and mild irritation, a look Hotch knew all too well. "Derek, you know I appreciate the offer, but I've got plans already," you replied, your voice steady but gentle, trying not to bruise his ego.

Morgan raised an eyebrow, his smile faltering just a bit. "Oh, come on, you always have plans. When are you gonna give me a chance?" he half-joked, half-serious—a tone that didn't go unnoticed by Hotch, who was watching the exchange from his office with a frown creasing his brow.

Garcia chimed in, passing through, her voice carrying across the room. "Morgan, you better watch out; maybe our girl here has a secret love we don't know about!"

The team laughed, and you blushed, glancing unintentionally up towards Hotch's office. Hotch's heart skipped, his own feelings mirrored in your fleeting look. It was these moments that he cherished—these brief, shared seconds where the world seemed to narrow down to just the two of you. Yet, it was also these moments that fueled his growing unease at Morgan's attentions.

Later that day, when the team was wrapping up, Hotch found you alone in the break room. He approached quietly, his demeanor serious. "Do you ever think," he began, pausing to choose his words carefully, "that it might be time to let the team in on... us?"

You looked surprised, a spoonful of coffee halfway to your lips. For a moment, Hotch looked at your lips, and that’s all he could think about--an effect only you had on him.

"I... Aaron, are you sure? It's been nice, just the two of us knowing. It feels like something just ours."

"I know," Hotch admitted, his voice low. "But seeing Morgan today, how he—"

You reached out, placing a hand over his. "Aaron, Derek is just being Derek. It doesn’t change how I feel about us. But if it’s important to you, maybe it’s time."

Hotch nodded, appreciating your reassurance. "Let's think about it a bit more," he decided, his hand turning under yours to squeeze it gently.

But life got in the way, and the time to “talk about it” wasn’t there. 

The next case had been grueling—a string of violent robberies across Virginia that had escalated into a hostage situation by the time the BAU was called in. Tensions were high as the team worked tirelessly to profile the unsub and predict his next move. You and Derek had been on site, working to establish a perimeter, when the unsub unexpectedly made a desperate, violent break, catching everyone off guard.

During the chaos, you had been hurt—an injury that seemed minor at first but was soon revealed to be more serious when you collapsed from a hidden stab wound you had sustained while trying to subdue the suspect. Derek, who had been by your side during the takedown, was riddled with guilt and insisted on accompanying you to the hospital, his protective nature in full display.

Hotch, meanwhile, was left to coordinate the wrap-up of the case, his leadership duties anchoring him to the scene. As much as he wanted to be by your side, his responsibilities as Unit Chief made it impossible for him to leave immediately. The knowledge that Derek was there with you, while he could not be, stirred a tumult of emotions within him—jealousy, frustration, and a fierce protectiveness that was unusual in its intensity.

By the time Hotch arrived at the hospital, you were already being patched up, Derek hovering nearby, his worry palpable. Hotch's arrival was quiet, his eyes immediately seeking you out in the busy emergency room. You looked pale, the pain evident in your eyes, but you managed a weak smile when you saw him.

"Aaron," you murmured, relief coloring your tone. Derek stepped aside, giving Hotch space to come closer, but his presence lingered, heavy and unmissable.

Hotch nodded to Derek briefly before turning his full attention to you. "How are you feeling?" he asked, his voice low, a controlled calm masking the storm of emotions inside him.

"It hurts, but they said I'll be fine," you replied, trying to ease the worry in his eyes. 

Derek chimed in, "She was incredible, Hotch. Took the unsub down like a pro, just got caught with a bad angle." He turned to you, “Glad I was here to hold her hand though when they patched her up.” 

Hotch's jaw tightened at Derek's words, his gaze flicking briefly to him before returning to you. "I'm just glad you're okay," he said, his hand finding yours and squeezing gently, a silent message of support and something more, something only you could understand.

Derek, a profiler after all, picking up on the subtle interplay of looks between you and Hotch, excused himself to give you some privacy, though his glance back as he left spoke volumes of his continued concern. Alone now, Hotch's expression softened.

"This thing with Derek..." Hotch began, hesitating as he searched for the right words. "Does it bother you? His attention?"

You shook your head slightly, wincing from the movement. "It's just Derek being Derek. I don't encourage it, Aaron. You know where my heart lies."

Hotch's features relaxed at your words, his thumb stroking the back of your hand gently. "I know," he admitted. "It's just hard, not being able to show... not being able to tell everyone that you're mine."

The possessiveness in his tone surprised you both, a stark contrast to his usual reserved nature. You squeezed his hand, understanding the depth of his feelings, the struggle it was for him to even voice them.

"Aaron, maybe it's time," you suggested softly. "Maybe it's time we don't have to hide anymore."

Hotch nodded, the idea settling into his thoughts like a weight lifted. "Let's talk about it when you're out of here. For now, just focus on getting better. That's what matters to me the most."

You both should have known--with your busy schedules, you might as well block out a scheduled meeting time and place it on the bureau-wide calendar to set up a time to talk. 

While on the next case, the briefing room buzzed with discussion as the team reviewed the details of the new case. It was a standard undercover operation, one that required a couple to infiltrate a high-end social circle. 

The unsub targeted women at exclusive parties, and the BAU needed a pair to blend in. Derek and you fit the profile perfectly—both attractive, confident, and capable of playing the roles effortlessly. The physical descriptions between the two of you were an ideal match as well. 

But Aaron Hotchner hated the idea. Like absolutely hated this idea. 

“It doesn’t make sense,” Hotch said firmly, arms crossed as he addressed the team. “We don’t know enough about the unsub’s habits to ensure their safety. There are too many variables.”

Rossi tilted his head, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips. “Hotch, the profile’s clear. Physically, they’re perfect. A couple in their late twenties to mid-thirties. Derek and her fit the bill. You’re overthinking this.”

JJ added, her tone light but pointed, “And honestly, it’s not like we have many other options. No offense, Rossi, but you’d stick out like a sore thumb.”

Rossi smirked. “I could charm my way through it if I had to.”

Hotch wasn’t amused. “It’s a security risk,” he said, ignoring the banter. His eyes shifted to you across the room, catching the subtle glance you threw his way. It was a look only he could decipher—a quiet reassurance, a silent message that you understood his concerns. But it did little to ease the growing tension in his chest.

“Hotch,” Emily chimed in, her voice cutting through his thoughts. “We’ve done riskier operations. She and Derek can handle this. Don’t you trust them?”

It wasn’t a question of trust. It was the idea of watching Derek, whose flirtations were already a sore spot, act like he was yours. It churned in Hotch’s gut, a raw, irrational frustration he struggled to suppress.

“Fine,” he said sharply, his tone curt as he relented. “But we keep constant surveillance, and the moment it looks like the situation is escalating, we pull them out.”

The room relaxed as the team moved on to logistics, but Hotch remained stiff, his jaw clenched as he tried to focus on the operation instead of the storm brewing inside him.

The operation started smoothly. Derek and you slipped into your roles with ease, playing the part of a glamorous couple navigating the lavish party scene. Derek’s hand rested on the small of your back as you laughed softly at something he said, your body language exuding the confidence and charm required for the role. A confidence you brought forward even in your real life. 

Hotch watched from the surveillance van, his tension palpable. He hadn’t looked away from the monitors since the operation began, his eyes tracking your every move. Derek leaned in close, whispering something in your ear, and you tilted your head toward him with a smile. It was fake—Hotch knew that. But it still set his teeth on edge.

“Hotch, you okay?” Emily asked, her voice gentle but curious. She’d noticed his rigidity, the way his hand hovered over the comms button as if he were ready to intervene at a moment’s notice. He was hyper-focused on every detail, practically looking for a reason to shut this down.

“I’m fine,” he replied tersely, not taking his eyes off the screen.

“Uh-huh,” Emily murmured, unconvinced but wisely choosing not to push.

When the operation concluded, and the unsub was apprehended, the team regrouped back at the precinct. Hotch’s mood had not improved. If anything, it had worsened.

Watching Derek touch you, hold your hand, and lean into your personal space—even for the sake of the mission—had been unbearable. It was irrational, he knew, but his emotions felt like a live wire sparking inside him.

“Well, that was fun,” Derek said, clapping you on the shoulder as the team settled into the conference room. “You were a natural out there.”

You laughed lightly, though your eyes flicked to Hotch, who stood stiffly at the edge of the room, arms crossed and jaw tight.

“Thanks, Derek,” you said, your tone kind but dismissive. You could tell something was wrong—Hotch hadn’t looked at you since the operation ended, and the air around him practically crackled with tension.

You walked over to him, keeping your voice low so the others wouldn’t hear. “Hotch, are you okay? You’ve been quiet.”

Hotch’s eyes finally met yours, dark and stormy. “I’m fine,” he said curtly, his tone sharper than you’d expected.

You flinched slightly at his words, confusion flickering across your face. “Aaron—”

“I said I’m fine,” he snapped, his voice louder now, drawing the attention of the rest of the team. The room went silent, everyone exchanging bewildered glances. Even Derek looked taken aback.

Hotch exhaled sharply, realizing he’d let his emotions slip. Without another word, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the room, leaving you standing there, stunned and embarrassed.

You caught up to him in the hallway, your heels clicking against the linoleum as you quickened your pace. “Hotch!” you called, your voice firm. “Aaron, stop!”

He did, reluctantly, turning to face you. His expression was a mix of anger and something deeper—something raw and vulnerable.

“What the hell was that?” you demanded, crossing your arms as you glared up at him. “You snapped at me in front of everyone. Do you have any idea how unprofessional that was?”

“I know,” he admitted, his voice quieter now but no less tense. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Then why did you?” you pressed, stepping closer. “What’s going on with you?”

Hotch looked away, his jaw tightening again. “I didn’t like seeing you with Derek,” he admitted after a long pause. “I didn’t like him touching you, acting like—”

“Like what?” you interrupted, your tone softening as understanding dawned. “Like we were a couple? We were undercover!”

He nodded, his gaze finally meeting yours. “It’s irrational, I know. But I hated it. I hated every second of it.”

A small smile tugged at your lips, despite the tension between you. “Aaron, it was just a role. You know that.”

“I do,” he said, stepping closer. “But that doesn’t change how I feel. I never thought of myself as a possessive man, but with you... I wouldn’t mind if the world knew you were mine.”

You stared at him for a moment, your expression softening as you placed a hand on his chest. “Then maybe it’s time they do. We keep saying it.”

Hotch’s shoulders relaxed slightly at your words, the weight of his emotions finally easing. “Maybe it is,” he agreed, his hand covering yours. “But first, I owe you an apology.”

“You do,” you said teasingly, though your tone was gentle. “And you might want to apologize to Derek, too. He looked like a kicked puppy.”

Hotch sighed, a faint smile breaking through his grumpy demeanor. “One step at a time.”

And that one step at a time was forgoing every other responsibility until this conversation happened. What came from that was the decision and action to tell the rest of the team. 

After updating your supportive coworkers, Hotch watched you move around his bedroom with a contented ease that warmed his heart. 

You had just slipped into one of his shirts, the fabric hanging loosely on your frame—a sight that never failed to stir something deep within him. As you began brushing your hair in front of the dresser mirror, he leaned against the door frame, arms crossed, still processing the team's reactions from earlier that day.

"They took it better than I expected," Hotch commented, breaking the comfortable silence. His tone was reflective, a hint of amusement in his eyes as he recalled the varying expressions of surprise and support from the team.

You turned to face him, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. "I think Garcia already had a betting pool going for when we'd finally admit it," you teased, setting the brush down. "Though I'm pretty sure Derek was the most relieved to have it out in the open."

Hotch's expression darkened momentarily at the mention of Derek, recalling the tension of the past weeks. "Relieved isn't the word I'd use."

"Oh?" You walked over to him, a mischievous glint in your eye. "Are you sure it wasn't just because you stopped glaring daggers at him every time he came near me?"

"I was not glaring," Hotch countered, though a faint smile betrayed his defensive tone. "It was strategic observation."

"Strategic observation?" You laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Is that what we're calling jealousy these days?"

Hotch sighed, the corners of his mouth twitching upward as he placed his hands on your waist. "I was concerned, not jealous. As your unit chief, I had to make sure he was remaining professional."

"Concerned," you echoed, nodding exaggeratedly. "Concerned enough to nearly have a coronary every time Derek played his part a bit too convincingly."

"I did not—"

You cut him off with a quick peck on the lips, silencing his protest. "You know, I thought it was kind of hot," you whispered, your voice low and teasing.

"Hot?" Hotch raised an eyebrow, his hands tightening slightly on your waist.

"Mmm," you hummed in affirmation. "Seeing you get all possessive. I half expected you to mark your territory somehow. Maybe a tattoo on my forehead that says 'Property of Hotch.'"

Hotch laughed, the sound rich and genuine. "I think a tattoo might be a bit excessive, but maybe they could add a spot on your badge," he conceded, making you laugh. His eyes softened with affection. "But I can't deny that the idea of everyone knowing you're with me doesn't have its appeal."

"I could see it in your eyes," you continued, playful and light. "One more flirty comment from Derek, and you might have started a BAU brawl."

"I would have handled it professionally," Hotch assured you, his voice laced with mock seriousness.

"Of course," you agreed, a twinkle in your eye. "Professionally pinning Derek to the ground in a fit of 'strategic observation.'"

Hotch shook his head, his smile lingering as he leaned in to kiss you gently. "I'm just glad we don't have to hide anymore," he murmured against your lips.

"Me too," you replied, your voice soft. "No more secrets. Just us."

"Just us," Hotch repeated, pulling you closer. The weight of the secrets they'd carried felt lifted, and as he held you in his arms, the quiet of the night wrapping around them, Aaron Hotchner felt a profound sense of peace settle over him. Here, in this moment, with you, everything was exactly as it should be.

Tag List: @zaddyhotch @estragos @todorokishoe24 @looking1016  @khxna @rousethemouse @averyhotchner @reidfile @bernelflo @lover-of-books-and-tea @frickin-bats @sleepysongbirdsings @justyourusualash @person-005 @iyskgd @hiireadstuff @kcch-ns @alexxavicry

[archangeldyke-all]

hope you're feeling better by the ghosting! Lesbian dating scene is hard out here 😭 have an ask if you're up for it. Or you can just listen abt this scenario I have, totally fine either way just wanna let these thoughts out. And you're my fav sevika writer so! It's a bit angsty/comfort ig? Basically Sevika explaining to reader why it's such a struggle to say "I love you".

Not just because it's an admission of feelings for such a character but I think it's also cuz loving someone also means you have to accept anything could happen to either of them, esp since Zaun and her job are quite dangerous. So saying those 3 words feels like accepting that risk and continue on which is a big thing to do, it's like willingly leaving yourself open to potential heartaches. Idk just recently saw posts about how love is not just a feeling but also a choice, whether to stay/commit/any other reason the person feels what love is. Felt like if the reader is the first thing she's ever cared about and don't wanna lose her (whether it's a breakup, death etc,), she would struggle saying it cuz it feels like accepting that risk which she doesn't want to. She would still make up for it by showing her love & appreciation thru other means tho! Mb the reader had anxious thoughts on whether she reciprocated, or Sevika feels bad for not saying back for so long that she felt like she has to explain why she's struggling.

Sorry if I'm rambling too long 😅 hope you have a great year ahead, love your writing as well! ❤️

i love this sm <33

men and minors dni

even though you've lived in zaun your whole life, you understand that your life's been a lot softer than it could've been.

you've never had to worry about where you'll sleep at night-- you've always had a dry, warm bed to rest in.

you've gone hungry some nights, but you're lucky enough to have never gone more than a few days without a warm meal.

and your choice in career keeps you out of the line of danger; safe and inside most of the day, home before sunset each night.

so, while you're zaunite enough to know how to keep your head down and mind your own business, you understand that for most people life's a lot scarier.

sevika's one of those people.

sevika's known grief for almost as long as she's known how to talk. she's spent her fair share of nights in the cold, and she's gone to bed hungry more often than she's gone to bed full and satisfied. plus, sevika's dedicated her life to being a revolutionary. which means sevika has a lot of enemies.

so it's no surprise that lovey-dovey words come easier for you than they do for sevika.

it isn't until two years into your relationship that you realize she's never said she loves you. sevika has to be the one to point it out.

"i think i gotta call it an early night, baby. you stay up and finish the movie." you say around a yawn, leaning forward to kiss your girlfriend on the couch. sevika pouts.

"just sleep on top of me here." she requests. you snort.

"you'll throw your back out carrying me to bed."

"that's just offensive. i could lift three of you." sevika's pout worsens. "goodnight." she huffs. "give me another kiss."

you laugh and roll your eyes. "i love you." you say with exasperation as you lean in to kiss her. sevika stiffens against you. you pull away to study her face. "'s wrong?"

"you always say that." sevika whispers. you raise an eyebrow at her, climbing into her lap to hold her face between your hands.

"well, yeah. 'cause i do."

"i know." sevika says with a tiny smile. it makes your heart flutter. it's quiet for a moment as you wait patiently for your girl to gather her words. eventually, sevika sighs. "does it ever bother you that i don't say that to you?" she asks.

you frown in confusion. "what, that you love me?" you ask. sevika nods. you sputter a laugh. "yes you do, you say it all the time." you scoff.

sevika blinks up at you in shock. "no i don't." she says. "baby, i've never said it. to anyone. ever."

oh. well, that's surprising. you furrow your brow as you try to recall an instance where your girlfriend let the words slip, and you're shocked to realize that she, in fact, has not. "oh." you say.

sevika gulps. "does that... is that bad?" she asks.

you blink down at her, and your heart shatters. "oh, baby, no." you coo, kissing her frown. "no, that's not bad."

"but-- i should be able--"

"darling, i know you love me." you cut her off. sevika blushes almost as red as she did the first time she saw your tits. you smile, brushing your thumbs over her crimson cheeks. "you make that very clear."

"yeah but i--"

"you moved me into your sacred bachlorette pad three months into us meeting. yesterday, you came home from work with a stab wound, and tried to make me dinner before patching yourself up."

"it was just a scratch."

"i'm not finished. you call me stupid shit like sweetbean and cookie-- and you do it in front of other people! you! sevika; the scary lady of zaun!" she chuckles a little bit at this. "sevika, i didn't even realize you hadn't said it until you told me just now." you kiss her nose. "it's not bad."

sevika leans forward to bury her face against your neck, inhaling deeply. "i just... i want to say it." she whispers. you nod. "i wish i could say it like you do; just, whenever i feel it." god she's romantic. you choke back your own tears as you kiss her scalp. "but... if i say it..." sevika trails off.

"if you say it, it makes it real." you whisper, nodding. "it makes it somethin' you can lose." you can feel her hot tears on your throat. you don't mention it.

"y-yeah." she whispers shakily, her hands clutching at your hips desperately. "and i can't lose you."

"you won't baby. even if the worst happens, i'm yours forever. i'll haunt the shit outta you." this pulls a startled laugh out of her, and you grin. "you don't have to say it for the rest of our lives, if you can't. i won't mind. just as long as we're together."

and that settles it.

for a while...

sevika starts practicing.

she'll spell it out to you, 'i l-o-v-e you, baby.' or she'll whisper it to you when she thinks you're sleeping.

at the three year mark, sevika can say it when she's drunk enough. it's fucking adorable.

"i have somethin' import'nt' t' tell you..." she says with a waggle of her eyebrows. you burst into laughter.

"oh, do you?" you ask.

"mmhmm. look." sevika darts forward to peck your lips, then pulls back with a proud smile. "i love'ya." she slurs. you grin.

"i love you too, baby."

"an' if this jinxes everythin' and y' die-- y' gotta make the haunting obvious 'kay?" she asks. you cackle.

"alright, love."

by the time you're married, the words are almost compulsive for her. sevika can't leave a room without shooting a 'love you' over her shoulder at you. even if you're arguing.

"oh, so you've conveniently got a fuckin' 'meeting' in the middle of the night, on your night to do fuckin' dishes?! if you don't get in the kitchen and grab the sponge right now you're sleeping on the couch!"

"it's six pm, it's a dinner meeting! i'll do the dishes when i get back! you act like i'm fuckin' negligent, but you're the one who doesn't know how to properly clean a fuckin' toilet! janna, you annoy me-- i love you, i'll be back by midnight!" she huffs as she slams the door behind her.

despite how pissed you are-- you can't help but smile a bit at her words.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@lavenderbabu @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@strawberrykidneystone @sevikasfan @fict1onallyobsessed @dvrkhcld @sweetybuzz25

@sluttysierraaa @snake-in-a-flower-crown @ruiwonderz @littlemisszaunite @biblicalcrybaby

@blackgaladriel @nightlyconfusion @dancingqu33n17

[dpspcehntr]

Kink Series: Zayne

Rafayel || Xavier || Sylus

Pairing: Zayne x Reader

Word Count: 1.2K

Warnings: temperature play, inappropriate use of evol, oral (f receiving), over stimulation, fingering (f receiving), P in V, cum play, cum eating, cum fetish, cream pie, just so much cum, spitting

A/N: Welcome to part one of this series! I didn't expect to have this much fun with this but I did. These are not beta read so please be nice to me. Continuously spreading my cum fetish Zayne agenda! Also I went kinda wild with this one but I do not regret it. As always reblogs are deeply appreciated and I hope you enjoy.

In between kisses and gropes during your usual office make out sessions you asked him a simple question.

“Can you use your evol on me?”

He didn’t say much, taking your lips into his as he pulled you off his desk and into his lap.

“N-next time. We don’t have enough time tonight.”

He whispered against your lips as he unzipped the fly on your pants. For the week after, all you could think about was the feeling of ice running down your body. You tried on your own to satisfy the itch but nothing was working. You didn’t tell him anything until you found yourself with him naked on top of you kissing you on your off day. With his evol he carefully produces a layer of ice to cover his hand. You watch in excitement as he gently places the hand on your flushed body. The cold of his fingers slowly trace circles around your hard nipples leaving you dizzy with desire. Your back arches into his touch as he tugs on your nipple and takes the other in his mouth. The sensation of cold and warm leaves you breathless as you card your hands into his hair. He groans around you as you arch further into him, grazing his raging hard on with your thigh. He switches nipples, torturing you so deliciously as you moan and writhe for him. You wanted so much more from him but his slow pace was deliberate. He liked it best when you both were so worked up, one orgasm would just never be enough for either of you. You never complained, the wait only made your release feel so much sweeter. His fingertips dance over your skin lower and lower. The cold making your head spin as he drags his middle finger over your inner thigh. You’re dripping onto the sheets below as he presses his fingers into you. You try your best to thrust yourself further onto his fingers but he doesn’t budge, taking his time pushing two fingers into you. His fingers no longer covered in ice still lingering with coldness enter you fully. He presses them deep into you, hitting your g spot. You arch deeper into his touch as he slowly thrusts them in and out of you. He sets a moderate pace, giving you just enough to keep you on the edge as you beg him for more. You feel his composure slowly slipping away as you begin to clench down onto his fingers. His pace quickens as your juices gush over his knuckles and down his hand. You cry out as you ride out your high on his fingers. It’s not enough for you, you need him inside of you right at this moment.

“Zayne please. I need you.”

He shifts his position on the bed as he settles himself between your legs. He lines himself up with your entrance and looks to you. In your blissed out state you can only nod a yes as he begins to slide into you. He takes his time bottoming out, making sure you feel every single inch being thrust into you. The teasing touch of cold long lost in the thrill of being connected once again. You cry out as he pull out and thrusts all the way back inside you. He fills you up so completely, rubbing against your walls so deliciously. You can only lie there and take everything he gives you, too lost in the pleasure of him overwhelming all of your senses. You feel yourself begin to clench down on him as your orgasm quickly builds up. He continues at his pace, drawing out your edge just a bit more. Before long your release crashes over you with a rush. You ride it out as he continues to thrust into you, prolonging your release. HIs pace begins to falter, becoming more desperate. Before he can cum inside you he pulls out of you with a shudder as he paints your stomach and thighs with his cum. You whine at the loss of him but you don’t have to wait long. He leans down hovering over where he just released onto you. He carefully begins to clean up the mess, licking every single drop off of you. You whine and writhe on the bed as he finishes cleaning up the mess he made. The desire coursing through you was almost painful as you watched him swallow every drop. He’s lines himself back up with your entrance and looks up at you.

“Ready?”

He looks into your eyes looking for any hesitation.

“F-fuck. Yes.”

Overwhelmed by what you just witnessed and blissfully fucked out you greedily agree for another. He thrusts back into you completely as you arch into him. He grips your hips and thrust you back onto him as you moan out his name. It was all too much for you and another orgasm crashes over you. You can’t keep track of when the orgasms start and stop as he plows into you chasing his own high. His thrusts become irregular as his own release is close. With one more thrust he paints your insides white. He groans loudly as he comes down from his orgasm. He pulls out once more and watches his cum leak out of you. He leans down and carefully licks from your clit to your dripping hole. You buck into him as he scopes his cum out of you with his tongue. Your clit throbs as another orgasm builds up inside you. He slurps and sucks you like a madman, savoring the taste of you mixing together. His grip on your thighs tightens as he feels you clenching down on his tongue. You grip a fist full of his hair and pull hard as your orgasm crashes down on you. The pressure bursting as you squirt over his face. He doesn't let up, sucking you until your legs start shaking. One orgasm rolls into the next as your voice goes hoarse from moaning. He eventually pulls away after having his fill. He sits up and leans over you. You look into his eyes as he leans in further, inches from your lips.

"Open up."

He slits the rest of his cum and your squirt into your mouth and your swallow it greedily. You pull him in for a heated kiss, licking the taste of both of you from his mouth. You stay locked in a heated embrace before you both pull away for air. You collapse onto the bed in exhaustion as he rolls over to the spot next to you. He pulls you close for a moment, just enjoying the feeling of you in his arms.

*the next morning*

In the morning, you wake up snuggled tight into Zayne's arms. A glass of water and a bottle of pain medicine sits on your bedside table, he must've cleaned you up in the night. You ease yourself out of bed and make your way to the bathroom to freshen up. Before long you hear the door open as a sleepy Zayne trudges in. He settles into your shoulder, his arms draped loosely around your waist. He kisses your neck before looking at you in the mirror.

"Apologies for last night. I got a bit carried away in the passions of the evening."

He blushes and avoids looking into your eyes in the mirror.

"If you're talking about spitting in my mouth, I enjoyed it. No need to apologize if I liked it."

He sheepishly makes eye contact with you in the mirror and nods. You wonder what else he's capable of when the passion takes over as your cheeks flush thinking of next time.

[beanlot]

wc: 1.3k

simon riley is a man who does not submit, except when he does.

for a few months, there was growing resentment between you two, stubborn competition, or.. conflicting power play, as soap would tease.

arguments, that were usually so fucking simple for simon to win, just by looming over them; using his size to intimidate, were a fucking nightmare with you. because unlike everyone else, despite being smaller, you didn’t falter.

so as he stares down at you in his quarters, doing what he does best - invading your personal space, trying to assert his big, manly dominance - he feels your tender fingers framing his masked jaw.

“you don’t intimidate me, fuckhead.” you mutter, staring up at him. “you speak to me like i’m shit at the bottom of your shoe. like i’m just this little girl playing dress-up whilst you big boys do all the work.” you lecture him, because it feels as though everyone seems to forget you sacrificed the same blood, sweat and tears to be standing here. “i don’t appreciate it, so if y-“

“i don-“ he tries to interrupt.

slap.

“i’m speaking. you listen, and you wait.” you state, fingers callously framing his jaw again. the slap wasn’t too harsh, yet it wasn’t entirely gentle either.

and you can see his pupils dilate, or maybe darken. you’re not sure. but he ever so slowly blinks, processing the sting on his warm cheek alongside the palpable tension. but he stood his ground, unflinching, jaw clenching beneath your fingers.

fucking ‘ell, he can feel his cock getting hard.

and as your eyes flicker down momentarily, you can see the abnormal mound protruding from his crotch. truly a man, after all.

“are you fucking hard?” you scoff in some disbelief, fingers gliding down his chest, feeling the hardened muscle through his shirt; the dips in his abdomen, uneasy twitches. “you like getting told off or slapped?”

“watch it.” he hisses, whacking your hand away when it gets a little too low for his dignity. “i’m not your fuckin’ toy you can play with. but you’d fuck’n like that, wouldn’ you?”

“you wanna know what i like? i like.. good boys, who get on their knees and apologise.” you murmur, hint of challenge in your eyes.

you can see him squint, as if processing your words, before he shakes his head and tries to reach for the doorknob. “move out my way-“

“get on your knees, and apologise.” you order, your hand covering the doorknob, preventing him from leaving. there’s an uneasy sense of authority about you; he’s not sure if he’s trying to refrain from fucking you senseless against the wall until your stomach bulges from being his fucking cumdump, or if he’s trying not to batter you.

“apologise for fuckin’ what?”

“for being a pain in my ass since i got here.” you’re quick with your answers, as if you’d premeditated this, fucking planned it. always two steps ahead - he hates how exceptional you are.

“i don’t fuck’n take orders from you.” he mutters, despite knowing he made your life harder on your first few days here, with intent.

“you want a good boy?” he huffs with acceptance, slowly sinking to his knees before you in defeat. you don’t believe your eyes for a moment, and he’s testing your wit, seeing if you’ll follow through on your own command. “fine, i’ll be your bloody good boy.”

his face is level with your clothed slit, and if it was his way, he would have torn your cargos off by now. make you stand there with your thighs exposed, shredded fabric dropping to the floor and his tongue gliding up and down your hips.

but he can’t have his way, he’s gotta be a good boy.

“that’s it. on your knees like a pathetic man.. you’re all the same.” you whisper, seductive and low lids peering down at him. “always thinking with your fucking dicks.” your boot positions between his thighs, teasingly rubbing against his aching cock. “there’s a good boy.”

the way you speak to him, it’s enough to make any lesser man cower. and simon thought he was no lesser man - yet here he was, on his knees before a woman, drooling like a dog in heat.

he exhales shakily when he feels the pressure of your boot gliding along his shaft, monumental size that bulges out and tightens. fucking ‘ell, it hurts.

“beg for it.” you whisper, your fingers loosening the zip on your cargos. “say, please mummy, can i lick your pussy? i’ll be a good boy.”

“don’t be a fuckin’ tease.” he mutters bitterly, yet he makes no effort to whack your leg away, instead shuddering with acceptance. when he looks up at you, his eyes dart along your pretty lips deliciously parted; can smell the perfume you’d used today, can hear the authority in your voice. he wants a taste, just one.

so he sighs, and feels his pride shredding beneath his fingers. “fine.. i’ll beg.” he inhales, trying to muster up the courage - he knew that business and pleasure were best kept separate, and he was not a man who mixed the two. ever.

but fuck, how can he resist when he’s so close to your pussy? when the chemicals in his body are reacting so innately to yours?

“please,” he whispers, eyes lazily opening; he looks up at you with low and seduced lids, smudged ink that only darkens them with yearning. “please let me eat your cunt, want your pretty clit in my mouth, baby.” his voice is low and tempting. “i’ll be your good boy, your perfect fucktoy. i’ll serve you, treat you like a fucking goddess..”

“almost good enough.” you whisper, egging him on. but his eyes turn sour as he looks up at you.

he looks fucking pathetic. you love it. big, scary simon riley on his knees with a hard-on, begging to suck on your clit. it’s almost tempting to ask him what his buddies would think of him, their superior officer, their commanding lieutenant surrendering to his lust.

“almost good enough, you say?” he scoffs, looking back down at the floor in defeat. he’s shaking his head with some disbelief, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t pain you not to just.. let him have his way. but after some moments of silent reconsideration, he looks back up with merciful eyes, pooled with desire and tainted yearning for you.

his hands, callous palms, settle at your clothed knees. his touch is gentle, ironically. “please, mummy. i’ll be a good boy, be so good to you.” he whispers, and you’re hypnotised as you watch his fingertips clutch at the hem of his balaclava, sluggishly dragging the fabric up to reveal his pretty lips. “just let me, let me, mummy..”

he leans in, and you can feel your cargos shedding, gliding down your raw hips and exposing your thighs. he’s slow and seductive, and you can see the outline of some faint stubble on his chin; years-old scars that create jagged lines along his jaw and neck.

“i must say..” he whispers as he watches your thighs subconsciously parting, your underwear slightly damp at your folds. “i may be the one on my knees here,” he pauses, fingers teasingly glissading along your clothed clit; thumb grazing ever so slightly over it in repeated motions.

your thigh instinctively raises to rest on his shoulders, his bulky arms supporting your flesh. he can fucking smell you, your arousal.

“but that doesn’t mean you’re in control.” he murmurs, leaning in like a fucking shark chasing the trail of blood, his tongue darting out and slurping messily at your clothed cunt. his saliva seeps into the material, wetting it lewdly.

all you can do is defencelessly whimper, shakily exhale at his mercy, your hands scrunching up his tactical jacket around his shoulders. you can feel the tip of his tongue lathering itself over your swollen clit through your underwear, and your eyes close at the fuzzy sensation.

i forgot to mention the part where simon riley makes you think he submits, but he always comes out on top.

[whrfchnn]

에이티즈 ! ୨ KEEP IT JUICY JUICY, EAT THAT LUNCH .ᐟ

⭑ Ateez with a chubby girlfriend .ᐟ

Ateez x chubby!fem!reader (individually)

Warnings ! Not edited :( I fear I went a little overboard with the drabbles in seonghwa’s part + lil suggestive in hongjoong’s at the end also some ethel cain vibes with yunho but we love that. I’ve got a sweet drabble for each members which will be posted soon :3

Mona’s notes ! Something soft for my darlings, I hope you enjoy. 3462k words…whoops. Feedback is welcomed! I’m always looking to improve my writing so don’t be afraid to be straightforward. Reblogs are appreciated! You might like; losing my innocence in the backseat.

✦. ── kim hongjoong .ᐟ 김홍중

𖤐 Joong would 100% design clothing for you all on his own, he knows some brands are blind when it comes to size inclusivity and he hates seeing you go from super excited to self conscious when you finally get the chance to shop for clothes.

𖤐 He’ll spend hours sketching out ideas, finding the right fabrics knowing you’re sensitive to certain materials. Plus this way, he gets to include small meaningful things into his designs that only you two know about, like his initials.

𖤐 He’d constantly remind you that society’s standards are a scam, joong will make it his life mission to make you feel like the most beautiful gorgeous person in the room not only with his designs but with his actions and words of affirmations.

𖤐 I feel like his favourite feature of you would be your waist. When he brings you to a fashion event or anything, he loves wrapping his arms around you so he could slowly and gently rub the side of your tummy.

𖤐 I also feel like if you’re taller than him, he’d be so smitten.

𖤐 Literal stars in his eyes when he looks at you, adoring that soft smile on his face like, “wow…she’s really my girlfriend”.

𖤐 LIKE He loves looking up at you with that cheeky grin, resting his chin on your shoulder he be like, “And what about it?” to anyone who comments on the height difference, “She’s my goddess, of course she’s taller.”

𖤐 If you’re ever feeling down, he will pull out his camera and convince you to model for him. “Trust me, babe, you’re stunning,” he’ll say, positioning you under the best light and capturing candid moments of you laughing or simply existing. Later, he’ll compile all the photos into a little book, labeling it My Favorite Masterpiece.

𖤐 ALSO OMFG

𖤐 Istg he’d wear your initials, either on a charm bracelet, rings, or necklace. He’s wear your full name with zero hesitation or shame but you insisted on the initials for now because of his job sigh.

𖤐 Lil suggestive BUT have you seen those videos of woman doing self portraits with their body? Like sitting on the canvas butt naked with paint on them and going over it to enhance it?

𖤐 YEAH SO imagine gifting him something like that, the outline of your sweet ass and hints of your camel toe drove him up the wall. He hugged the canvas to his body when San tried to see just what was on it that sent joong into a frenzy.

✦. ── park seonghwa .ᐟ 박성화

𖤐 My love, when Seonghwa first saw you it was as if you picked him up by his neck and claimed him as yours.

𖤐 On day one my man was hooked and wanted nothing more than to show you what devotion is.

𖤐 He’s a foodie so he will ensure you eat your meals and snacks daily. I feel like he’d prepare you an over the top dish and write cute notes with it if he’s out and can’t eat with you.

𖤐 Expect self care nights, he loves to take care of you both and pamper you ranging from bubble baths and skincare routines. I’ve got a small drabble for both;

𖤐 Bubble baths !

⤷ The warm water lapped at the sides of the tub as you leaned back against Seonghwa, bubbles piling high around you. It was peaceful, the scent of lavender and vanilla filling the air. Your eyes were half-closed when you felt the subtle shift of his arm behind you.

“What are you doing?” you asked, voice lazy with relaxation.

“Nothing,” he replied, though the playful lilt in his voice betrayed him.

A moment later, you felt it—bubbles being stacked atop your head, the slick slide of foam as he carefully shaped something.

“Seriously?” you laughed, sitting up slightly to catch his grin.

“Hold still,” he teased, leaning closer to perfect his work. His brows knit together in faux concentration, lips quirked up in amusement. “I’m almost done.”

You rolled your eyes playfully but let him continue, feeling the unmistakable shape of a shark fin forming. When he finally sat back to admire his creation, the pride on his face was impossible to ignore.

“There. Perfect,” he announced with a triumphant chuckle. “My very own bubble shark.”

You turned to face him, water sloshing gently as you scooped up a handful of foam. With a quick swipe, you smeared it across his nose and cheeks, earning a gasp of mock outrage.

“Now you’re next,” you said with a smirk.

𖤐 Skincare routine !

⤷ Seonghwa’s lap was warm beneath you, your knees resting on either side of his hips as you faced him. The faint glow of candlelight flickered across the room, casting a golden hue over the array of skincare products spread out on the table beside you. The soft cotton of the Light Fury headband around your head kept your hair neatly away from your face, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sight of Seonghwa’s matching Toothless one.

“One second Princess,” he murmured, voice low and soothing as he smoothed the face mask over your cheeks with gentle fingers. His brow furrowed in concentration, tongue peeking out slightly as he carefully applied the cool, creamy mixture.

“You take this way too seriously,” you teased, though the fondness in your voice betrayed you.

“And you don’t take it seriously enough,” he countered, his lips quirking into a soft grin as he leaned back to admire his work. “There. Perfect.”

You smiled softly and but couldn’t hide the warmth in your chest as he reached for a towel to clean his hands. Before you could shift or move, his hands found their way to your waist, sliding slowly down to rest on your stomach.

The touch was light at first, his palms gliding up and down your sides, the warmth of his fingers seeping through your oversized shirt. Then he gave your tummy a soft, affectionate squeeze, his thumbs brushing over the gentle curves there.

“What are you doing?” you asked, your voice softer now, almost shy.

“Appreciating you,” he said simply, his gaze meeting yours with an honesty that made your breath catch. His hands continued their slow, loving exploration, his thumbs drawing lazy patterns as he squeezed you again, this time with a little more intention. “You’re so beautiful.”

You huffed a quiet laugh, trying to hide the way his words flustered you. “We’re supposed to be waiting for these masks to dry, not… whatever this is.”

“Waiting is boring,” he said with a sly smile, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to your nose. “This is better.”

You sighed, feigning exasperation, but melted into his touch as his hands stayed firm and comforting on your body, grounding you in the moment. The quiet hum of music in the background mixed with the sound of your breathing, and for a while, the world outside didn’t exist.

✦. ── jeong yunho .ᐟ 정윤호

𖤐 Just carve out his heart and eat it please. Let him become one with you.

𖤐 He’s the kind of man who views his love as sacred, almost religious. To him, loving you feels like fulfilling a divine purpose. You are his universe, his North Star, and he orbits around you willingly.

𖤐 He adores your softness—physically, emotionally, spiritually.

𖤐 He’s constantly touching you, whether it’s tracing circles on your thighs, resting his head against your stomach while lying on the couch, or pressing kisses to your arms while you cook.

𖤐 I’m telling you right now, yunho isn’t shy about expressing his love. He tells you daily, in ways that range from poetic declarations—“You feel like the home I’ve been searching for my whole life”—to soft-spoken affirmations, whispered against your ear when you wake up.

𖤐 He loves seeing you confident, but he thrives on the quiet moments when you’re vulnerable, trusting him enough to show the parts of yourself you usually hide. To Yunho, those moments are where your beauty shines brightest.

𖤐 To me, he’s more so protective than possessive on occasions, always prioritizing your comfort and well-being.

𖤐 Anyone who even tries to make a comment about your body in a negative way will be met with that cold, cutting stare. Yum.

𖤐 He wants to become one with you—not just physically but spiritually. He dreams of the day he can say, “This is the life we’ve built together.”

✦. ── kang yeosang .ᐟ 강여상

𖤐 Yeo-yeo is more of a subtle admirer, he is quiet about his affection but his actions speak volumes.

𖤐 He’d casually drape his jacket over your shoulder, pull you closer with an arm secure around your waist, and compliment you in ways that make your heart flutter.

𖤐 His eyes OMFG, he talks with his eyes. If you were out with friends having dinner or something and see him looking at you, you can easily interpret what he’s saying, “You look beautiful” or “Come here, I want to hold you.”

𖤐 He’s your personal photographer, and not those who stand in one place and take a picture no, he will do whatever to get the perfect shot. If he has to get on his knees or raise his arms while already standing on an elevated platform, he will.

𖤐 He loves capturing candid pictures of you. Whether it’s your soft smile, your laughter, or just the way you look at him, he treasures every photo. And when you criticize yourself in photos, he’ll firmly say, “What are you talking about? You look incredible, don’t you ever disrespect my girlfriend like that.”

𖤐 Also 🥹

𖤐 Yeosang remembers everything you tell him, no matter how insignificant you think it is. Months later, he’ll bring up that obscure snack you mentioned liking as a kid or a book you said you wanted to read, often surprising you with it. “You said you wanted this, right?” he’ll say casually, like it’s no big deal, even though you’re stunned he remembered.

𖤐 If you have a unique fashion sense, he doesn’t just hype it up, he matches your energy. He’ll subtly coordinate his outfits with yours, ensuring you both look like you stepped out of a fashion editorial without stealing your thunder TEHE.

𖤐 This made me cry but

𖤐 If you ever feel down or insecure, Yeosang’s words are like a balm. He’ll remind you of your strengths and beauty without hesitation, often framing his encouragement as a matter of fact. “You’re incredible. Anyone who doesn’t see that doesn’t deserve to know you.”

𖤐 While he’s fine with going out, his ideal date is staying in, curled up with you under a blanket while you watch a movie or talk for hours. He loves the intimacy of those quiet moments where it feels like the world is just the two of you.

✦. ── choi san .ᐟ 최산

𖤐 AGH I LOVE THIS MAN.

𖤐 He will NEVER miss an opportunity to tell you how beautiful you are. He’s the type to bombard you with compliments like, “You’re so cute” or “You’re so sexy,” often in the same breath.

𖤐 SAURRR MUCH PDA

𖤐 And he’s unapologetic about being affectionate in public. Whether it’s holding your hand, a thumb stroking your knuckles, full-on bear hugs, wrapping his arm around your waist, or outright kissing you in front of others, San LOVES showing the world how proud he is to have you.

𖤐 He loves wrapping his big arms around you from behind and holding your tummy in his hands, he’d sway you side to side just chilling on you like a koala. If you try to move, he’ll groan and pull you closer, mumbling with a pout, “nope, you’re stuck with me now.”

𖤐 I feel like he’d definitely tease you, he’ll poke your cheeks or pinch your sides and call you adorable, but he never crosses the line.

𖤐 How to keep it playful and always follows up with a sincere, “I love every part of you.”

𖤐 I also feel like if he ever found out he made you cry after teasing you, he’ll dig his own grave. he’d do everything in his power to make it up to you, but he’ll never be able to forgive himself or get rid of that ache in his heart :((

𖤐 If you jokingly ask him something like “can you even lift my weight?” he’ll bench you right there and then, no need to go to the gym to show you.

𖤐 He’s your biggest fan in everything you do. Whether it’s a hobby, work, or even just picking out an outfit, he’ll hype you up like you’re the greatest in the world. “That’s my girl!” he’ll shout playfully, clapping dramatically, making you laugh and blush at the same time.

𖤐 Yk despite his playful nature, San has a deeply emotional and nurturing side. On tough days, he’ll hold you close, stroking your hair and whispering affirmations. “You’re everything to me, you know that? I’m so lucky to have you.” His voice is calm and steady, grounding you in the warmth of his love.

𖤐 If you jokingly ask him something like “can you even lift my weight?” he’ll bench you right there and then, no need to go to the gym to show you.

⤷ “San, I don’t think you can lift me,” you teased, a mischievous grin playing on your lips.

His head snapped toward you, eyes wide with mock offense. “Oh, really? Is that a challenge?”

Before you could respond, he was on his feet, grabbing your hands and pulling you up with him. “San, no!” you squealed, laughing as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

“Too late,” he said with a playful smirk, easily hoisting you up bridal-style. “See? Light as a feather.”

You couldn’t stop laughing, your arms looping around his neck as he spun you around. “Okay, okay, I believe you!”

He set you down gently but didn’t let go, his arms still secure around your waist. Leaning in, he kissed your forehead softly. “Never doubt me again,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing, but his eyes were filled with nothing but love.

𖤐 He’s so serious about you I can’t even type I’m blushing so hard bye.

✦. ── song mingi .ᐟ 송민기

𖤐 GIVE HIM A CHUBBY BADDIE AND HE WON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO HE’S THAT WHIPPED.

𖤐 Like he’s already smitten, but if you dress up or put in any effort, Mingi is left absolutely speechless, stammering out compliments like, “You… you’re literally the hottest person alive.”

𖤐 He LOVES cuddles and is all about physical affection. He’ll wrap himself around you like a blanket and tell you how soft and cozy you are, he loves pressing his cheek against yours and resting his hands on either your lower back or love handles, being close to you is his happy place, and he’ll never pass up a chance to cuddle.

𖤐 NUMBER ONE HYPE KING.

𖤐 He’ll randomly yell things like, “THAT’S MY BABY!” if you’re walking by him or just doing anything that makes you look confident.

𖤐 He loves boosting your self-esteem in the loudest, most Mingi way possible.

𖤐 I feel like you guys would have this little playful thing where he pretends he doesn’t know you and when walking past you he double takes, turning his body around to check out the bunda with them elevator eyes. He’d jog up to you and ask if you’ve got a boyfriend, also throwing in ‘mami’ mhm idc I said what I said.

𖤐 OOO he’d definitely bling you out so you’re matching. If he’s wearing a chain, you’re wearing a chain. If he got them rings on, so do you.

✦. ── jung wooyoung .ᐟ 정우영

𖤐 Woo is all about showing you off yessirrr.

𖤐 He’ll post pictures of you together on his social media with captions like, “My Queen 🤗” making sure everyone knows he’s proud of you. He’ll talk about you to his friends, constantly raving about how lucky he is. “Have you met her? She’s amazing,” he’ll brag to anyone who will listen — actually that doesn’t matter, he will make them listen.

𖤐 He loves cooking for you, especially if it means seeing you enjoy food without guilt or self-consciousness. “Food is meant to be enjoyed, babe,” he’ll say, feeding you bites of whatever he’s made. He’s adamant on making sure to remind you that there’s no need to feel guilty for indulging.

𖤐 OML ON THAT NOTE he’ll definitely spoon feed you, making sure it's not too hot by blowing on it and checking the temperature with his lips before feeding you (yk where this came from mhm)

𖤐 He’s always got your back and will defend you no matter what, wooyoung has zero tolerance for body shaming. If anyone makes a rude comment, he’ll roast them into oblivion and then reassure you and make sure their stupid comments don't get to you.

𖤐 Wooyoung is extremely protective of you, especially when it comes to anything that could affect your confidence or self-image.

𖤐 If anyone dares to make rude or body-shaming comments, he won’t hesitate to speak up. He’ll roast them in oblivion and make sure they know exactly where they stand. Afterward, he’ll be there for you, reassuring you and reminding you how beautiful you are, inside and out. “They don’t know what they’re talking about. You’re perfect, babe, and I love you

𖤐 He’s the type to always want to be physically close to you. Whether it’s holding your hand, resting his head on your shoulder, or wrapping his arm around you while watching a movie, he just loves being near you.

𖤐 He’ll even sneak up behind you for surprise hugs or kisses, just to make sure you know you’re loved. “I just want to hold you,” he’ll say, snuggling up to you on the couch or in bed.

✦. ── choi jongho .ᐟ 최종호

𖤐 Baby bear 🥹

𖤐 Jongho’s love isn’t loud or showy, but it’s steady and unwavering. He’s the type to show his devotion through actions rather than words.

𖤐 Whether it’s making sure you’re comfortable or going out of his way to do something thoughtful for you, he always lets you know that you’re a priority in his life without needing to shout it from the rooftops.

𖤐 Jongii is so incredible observant when it comes to you. He’ll remember your favorite foods, the things that make you laugh, and the small gestures that bring you joy.

𖤐 If you’re feeling a little off, he’ll notice it before you even mention it and do something to make you feel better, whether it’s bringing you a hot drink or quietly holding your hand. “I noticed you were quiet today,” he’ll say, his voice soft but concerned. “Is everything okay?”

𖤐 Jongho loves showing off his strength, but he’s soft with you. feeling down about your body, he’ll remind you of all the ways you’re amazing, saying things like, “Your body is strong and beautiful, just like you.”

𖤐 Jongho is a quiet romantic, and nothing says “I love you” to him more than sharing his music with you. He’ll often hum or sing softly when you’re together, his voice like a lullaby that wraps around you.

𖤐 Sometimes, he’ll even make up little songs just for you, serenading you in the most tender way. “You make me feel so lucky,” he might sing, smiling at you as you relax by his side. His voice is comforting, and hearing him sing just for you feels like a gentle, loving embrace.

𖤐 Jongho doesn’t need grand displays of affection to show you he cares; it’s in the little things. He’s the type to send you thoughtful texts during the day, reminding you to take care of yourself. If you’re feeling tired, he’ll offer to take on a chore for you, or if you’re out together, he’ll carry your bags without a second thought. His gestures might be small, but they’re full of meaning, and they’re his way of saying, “I love you and I’m here for you.”

𖤐 Honestly? When Jongho loves you, he loves you deeply. He’s not the type to fall in love lightly, and once he’s in, he’s all in. You’ll find him sharing little details about his life, his hopes, and dreams, trusting you with the parts of him he usually keeps hidden. “I’ve never been able to open up like this before,” he’ll admit, his voice sincere. “But with you… it feels easy.”

Copyright © 2023 whrfchnn! All fanfics belong to me and only me, I don’t give permission for my work to be translated, published to another site, or copied.

[marbofmoorock]

I'm just gonna make a short story based on this incredible art:

TADC SIDE ADVENTURE: A New Girl in Town, Droppin' in

Today, in the Amazing Digital Circus, Caine decides to give everyone a day off. Much to everyone's surprise, everyone walks off relieved, doing something fun with their time. Jax goes to his room to play video games, Pomni hangs out with Kinger in his pillow fort, and Gangle and Zooble go have fun together. Everyone's got something to do, except Ragatha.

She was looking forward to this adventure today, as Caine had hinted she would meet ai doll characters just like her. Ragatha had wanted to meet other ai that looked like her, but sadly, she's the only toy doll amongst the cast.

Caine takes note of Ragatha's sadness and decides to check on her.

"HELLO MY DEAR! YOU SEEM QUITE GLUM FOR SOMEONE WHO FOUND OUT SHE'S GOT A DAY OFF. I CAN APPRECIATE SOMEONE WHO LOVES MY ADVENTURES ENOUGH TO MISS THEM, BUT WHY THE LONG FACE, RAGATHA? YOU'RE USUALLY SO UPBEAT!"

Ragatha looks over at Caine, then back at the floor as she holds her arm with her other arm.

"Well Caine, I...didn't know that the Doll adventure would be cancell-"

"NOT TO WORRY MY DEAR! I ONLY CANCELED IT FOR THE OTHER MEMBERS, I WANTED TO PUT YOU ASIDE BECAUSE THIS ADVENTURE IS FOR YOU EXCLUSIVELY!!!"

Ragatha gasped, her expression went from sad to shocked in an instant, then to joyful.

"No way..."

"YESSS WAAAAAAAY," said Caine, delighted to see Ragatha's mood changed for the better, " You're in for a real surprise this time! Your mission is to make A friend! Have fun!"

Caine snaps open a portal, gesturing Ragatha to enter. Surprised that Caine would set her aside for an adventure was so riveting, thought Ragatha as she enters the portal.

On the other side, Ragatha finds she's in a giant room, or perhaps she's super tiny. Regardless, she saw other dolls all over this large room. Some of them were her size, others were smaller, then there were plenty of other toys, but most of them were dolls of various kinds, from barbies, to Bratz, to lalaloopsy, strawberry shortcake and many others. Ragatha was so shocked at how many dolls there were, noticing how beautiful they looked, appearing more human-like and pretty. As Ragatha looked at her ragdoll arms for a moment, a hint of insecurity passed her, interrupted by one of the smaller dolls with blonde hair her size, who approached her.

"Hey there. You must be the new doll. My name's Milly Milkshake. Come with me." She holds Ragatha's hand with her own plastic one, and Ragatha follows, feeling accepted and happy knowing someone in this wild you city of fashion and plastic fantastic would want to welcome her, a ragdoll.

She guides her to another side of the room, past many other characters and dollhouses, some being built, while some are fully lived in. "This is amazing," Ragatha thought out loud.

"It's pretty cool, I guess. There's a lot of mean dollies here, so it's good I found you first. There are too many mean girlies here, and I wouldn't want you to be bullied on your visit."

Ragatha listens intently, reminded of her past life when she was bullied out of loving her horse toys when she was very young, often missing them.

Milly brings Ragatha to her smaller dollhouse and they go inside. It's like a house and an ice cream Parlor rolled into one, Milly lives up to her name, I guess, thought Ragatha.

"Well, this is it, mi casa ea su casa, as Espinza, my other doll friend, would say. Make yourself at home." Milly says, gesturing to the comfy looking sofa.

Ragatha sits down and she makes Milkshakes for both of them, and just chat. Ragatha spends a lot of time with Milly, enjoying a good time with her. They talked for hours, played tea parties, they even rode on the larger toy horses, which made Ragatha very happy.

While Ragatha was hyperaware of how NPCs and Ai often forget about you quickly, she made the most of it, happy to be around other dolls. Milly gives her a gift of mini toy horses Ragatha can keep in her room. This brings Ragatha to tears and she hugs Milly really tightly.

"OH THANK YOU...I...have never been given such a gift before...I love it...*sniff*...Thank you..."

Milly smiled, accepting her hug and hugging her back for the longest time: "You're never alone Ragatha. I'll always be right here, okay?" She gestures to her chest where her heart is, "I'll miss you."

"...Me too..." Says Ragatha, crying loudly as Milly had been so nice to her.

They eventually end the hug, and Ragatha walks through the portal back to the circus.

Caine congratulates Ragatha for completing her adventure and sends her off to her room to rest and cool off.

With her new toy horses and tears in her eyes, Ragatha cries with joy, as her heart warms at the thought of Milly and her kindness. In her honor, she relives her childhood memories and plays with horses yet again.

The End.

I had this AU idea where a new member joins the digital circus and it’s a doll. But unlike Ragatha who is a ragdoll she’s like a perfect barbie like doll. And she makes Ragatha feel insecure. Like she has two eyes, full hands, perfect hair, a pretty face, etc. And fears that everyone prefers her, especially Jax. And grows worried that Jax will go on to play with another doll instead and her bored of her. Inspired by Prom Dress.

[melliemell]

Pairing: Sigma x reader

Contents: NSFW, morning sex, penetration (reader receiving), fluff, Sigma is happy to have someone to call his own and he's gonna do his damn best to please them, we need more sappy enamoured men, Approx 1.1k words

Twenty minutes.

It’s been twenty minutes since Sigma woke up. Your sleeping form was sprawled atop his overheated body like a heavy blanket. Sigma doubted anything could wake you up now, but he still refused to move even an inch. Not when you looked so peaceful, so content. 

With him.

He’d be embarrassed to admit how long he stared at you; engraving your features into his mind. But that’s what lovers did, didn’t they? They adored their partners, their every detail; from the curve of your nose to the way you huddled closer to him whenever you moved. The feel of your breath against his neck sent shivers down his spine–he’d never think something so… small could get such a reaction from him. And yet…

And he could feel your chest moving against his too, completely at ease in his embrace. Like you trusted him to be this vulnerable.

He’d sooner die than give this up. Having someone. Like this. You were the most beautiful thing in his life and moments like those only made him all the more appreciative of you.

When you finally did wake up, groggy eyes looking up at him, a gentle smile grazing your lips a moment later–Sigma’s heart sped up. He was melting right there and then, your gaze the sole culprit behind his state.

Sigma never expected to be this enamoured, the need to have you close almost frighteningly overwhelming. 

“What ya thinkin’ about?” you asked, stifling a yawn against Sigma’s chest. 

Adorable.

Sigma smiled. Your hair looked a mess; he loved it. “Just you.”

You hummed, resting your chin on folded hands atop Sigma’s chest. “Creepy.”

Sigma blinked. “I’m not creepy. Why would that be creepy?” He hesitated. He wasn’t… was he? 

Of course not, that’s absurd.

You observed him before you snorted. This pushed away Sigma’s doubts as he levelled you with an unimpressed look. 

“Aw, come on. You can be the creepiest creepy-o and I’d still go for you, don’t worry,” you said, more amused than taking him seriously.

You were always like that–carefree to the brim. It was almost maddening at times, but it also managed to get Sigma more… at ease. Rigid was a good way to describe his life before meeting you. Always perfectly planned, the need for control so overwhelming it almost brought him to sickness at times. 

But now…

Now he could melt into your embrace with ease. You’ve taught him how to go with the flow of life, to experience it when the opportunities arise. 

And to kiss your lips when they waited for him, ready and right there. To let himself fall deeper into your warmth as you engulfed him fully. Your scent, your touch, your taste. Sigma was a lucky man. Even luckier as you held onto his shoulders, coaxing him to take the lead as you pulled him atop you. Sigma nestled perfectly between your spread thighs, his cock already aching for you.

The friction of clothes felt divine, Sigma’s mind foggy as his senses sharpened to your every touch. Every move against him.

You had him in your grasp so easily; you needed only look at him once and he was done for. You needn’t even ask–his ability was skilful enough to read through your desires.

But then you pulled at his hair, coaxed him higher as your other hand worked his pants loose. Sigma’s brain froze even as he kissed you deeper. Your smile felt sharp against his lips.

“Since when are we morning people?” you breathed at last, and Sigma’s head fell on your shoulder witha groan as you wrapped your hand around his cock. 

You stroked him once, twice. Almost teasing him with your slow movements. Sigma swallowed hard. “I can be your morning person. Definitely.”

He moved his hips as he sought more. You could only comply, swallowing his grunts of pleasure as your hand worked him steadily.

Sigma tried to not be impatient, he really did. You’d get him off just fine like this. Hell, he only needed your lips on his and he’d get the job done all the same. And then take care of you.

But that wasn’t the plan, no. Not when you had your clothes discarded swiftly. Then you wrapped your thighs around his hips, pussy wet and waiting for him. You locked gazes.

Sigma was a man gone by that point.

He sunk in you slowly, blinking away the fog of pleasure that threatened to cloud his better judgment. He really wanted to fuck into you right there and then. No, not like that. He looked at your face again. Seeking you. 

You cupped his face, thumb brushing his cheek with affection. You smiled then, clenching on purpose around him. 

A low groan slipped past Sigma’s lips, the sound strained. “Stop that. Just, please. I need a moment.”

You brushed his locks over his shoulder. “Sorry, I’ll behave,” you said, winking. But your chest was flushed, the pink dusting reaching your neck and cheeks too. You were just as affected as him. 

If not more.

Sigma took a deep breath, and moved. The slap of skin against skin echoed around you soon after, heated kisses shared between you as saliva trailed down your chin. But you didn’t care; you were too busy clutching onto Sigma’s shoulders, your nails sure to leave marks into his skin.

He didn’t feel any of it. Only your warmth, the tightness of your pussy as he bottomed out with every thrust until he couldn’t hold it any longer. 

His movement became sloppy, fast, hard. Sigma was holding you so close he worried for a second if you could even breath. But you were just as latched onto him, your moans stifled against his shoulder as you bit into it. He wanted you so bad, it wasn’t enough.

He held you in place, eyes closed as he focused on you. The way you unravelled before him, losing yourself in your pleasure–all because of him. 

His. You were his and he was going to do everything you asked him to, you just had to wish it.

Your orgasm was beautiful–head thrown back as you bit into your lower lip til bruising. Your thighs trembled, pussy fluttering around his cock as it spurred him closer too. Sigma didn’t hold out long, letting himself finish with a few final thrusts into your heat. He could barely stay up, the strain catching onto him completely unexpectedly.

Moving anytime soon was completely out of the question. But you were there, pulling him back against you as you hugged–still sweaty and fucked out as you could get. 

Warm. Sigma felt your hands thread through his locks, and he sighed. He could get used to being content like this.

[vortexbloom]

ℍ𝕠𝕨 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 𝕞𝕖𝕟 𝕨𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 𝕜𝕚𝕤𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕚𝕣 𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕣 - 𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕖𝕣𝕦 𝔼𝕕𝕚𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 (ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤)

𝕄𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥 - 𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 𝕀𝕞𝕡𝕒𝕔𝕥

Pairing: Alhaitham/Tighnari/Cyno/Kaveh/Scaramouche aka Wanderer x Reader

Fandom: Genshin Impact

Warnings: None (I guess)

English isn’t my first/native language, so there might be misspellings etc.

Also, I do Not own any Characters like Alhaitham !

Anyway, have fun reading this :)

Methodical & Deep

Alhaitham’s kisses are precise and meaningful, much like his thought process. He’s not one for public displays of affection, but in private, his kisses convey unspoken emotions.

Forehead Kisses

He often places a firm yet tender kiss on your forehead when he’s engrossed in his work, a silent promise that he’s thinking of you even when preoccupied.

Moments of Passion

When he allows his emotions to surface, his kisses are intense and breathtaking, leaving no room for doubt about how deeply he cares.

Soft & Playful

Tighnari’s kisses are often accompanied by a teasing comment or a chuckle. He’ll sneak quick kisses while you’re working, loving the way you laugh at his spontaneity.

Nature - Inspired

He loves kissing you while surrounded by nature, perhaps under a blooming tree or while the two of you are sitting by a stream in Avidya Forest.

Comforting Gestures

After a long day of research or patrolling, he’ll cradle your face gently and give you a lingering kiss, grounding both of you in the moment.

Reserved but Meaningful

Cyno isn’t the most outwardly affectionate person, but when he does kiss you, it’s serious and sincere. His lips linger for a moment longer than necessary, as if sealing a vow.

Humorous Interludes

Occasionally, he’ll follow a kiss with a joke (or a really bad pun) just to see you roll your eyes and smile.

Protective Kisses

After a battle or when he’s worried about you, he’ll kiss your hands, appreciating your strength and safety.

Dramatic & Passionate

Kaveh’s kisses are theatrical, full of emotion, and often accompanied by sweet words or poetry. He loves making you feel adored and cherished.

Public Displays

He’s not shy about kissing you in public, especially to show others how much he values you. He’ll hold your face tenderly and kiss you as if you’re the center of his world.

Emotional Kisses

During vulnerable moments, he’ll press his forehead against yours and give you a gentle, heartfelt kiss, as if drawing strength from you.

Tentative but Growing

At first, his kisses are hesitant and almost experimental, as if testing whether he’s deserving of your affection. Over time, they grow more confident.

Passion in Private

In moments of deep emotion, he kisses you fervently, as though trying to convey the feelings he struggles to put into words.

Subtle Affection

He’ll often give you a quick peck on the lips or cheek when he thinks no one is watching, showing his softer side when he feels secure.

Have a good day/night/evening/morning/afternoon ☼꥟☽

[judesmoonbeauty]

Wrapped In Wicked Romance Part III:

Nica Schwartz - Epilogue

This is a fan translation only. Please expect grammatical errors and translation inaccuracies. This is a full translation. Creative liberties are taken for characterization and smoother translation process. Cybird owns everything. Re-blogs are appreciated, but please do not post my translation elsewhere. Thank you for your support! ☾.

Nica: If that’s what you wish, I’ll always up for it.

The clever, sweet whispers in my ear felt like they were toying with my heart, enthralling me.

(But these aren’t his true feelings.)

I know because I’ve watched him all day.

(This guy whispers sweet nothings to everyone, and plays with their heart.)

I was surprised that he was able to make acquaintances just a few days after coming to England,

(Now that I think about it, I understand why.)

He can skillfully use words to penetrate someone’s heart,

Even if you’ve only met once, you’d remember him.

(Also, women are even more attracted to him.)

I too felt tethered to him, until I witnessed that lady killing her husband.

But, not now.

Kate: …..I don’t want to do that, because if I date someone, I want there to be mutual feelings.

Nica: Well then it’s perfect, because you like me right?

Kate: I don’t dislike you, but….

(It’s true that I’ve deepened my understanding of him by being with him for the day, but….)

(But, I still don’t know much about Nica.)

I grabbed the hand that was holding my chin, and stared him down with a strong determination.

Kate: It’s because you really don’t like me.

Deep indigo eyes ripple for just a moment like the water’s surface.

Kate: I don’t think it’s necessary to lie to yourself just to date.

Kate: Suppose I did like you Nica, and you were okay with it, I still wouldn’t date you.

Kate: Because I might end up hurting you.

Once more, rippling eyes illuminated by streetlights shimmer like waves.

His hand released my chin, and ruffled his hair with a fed up look on his face.

Nica:….You’re really weird.

The small murmur reached my ears, and the fake smile vanished.

Nica cracked his neck with a bothersome look and sighed,

Kate: ….That’s better.

Nica: What?

At least for me, I was a bit happy to see Nica’s true self.

Kate: You’re a friendly and smart guy, and that’s great, but this side of you is even better.

Nica: …..You’re a masochist.

Kate: N-no, I’m not.

Watching me deny it so quickly,

Nica: Haha.

Nica bursts out laughing, smiling like a happy child —

(Huh, so he can make an expression like that…..)

My heart squeezed as my eyes were enraptured.

Nica: Then next time, I’ll go tough on you.

Kate: You don’t have to do that.

He returned to his usual self and smiled suggestively.

Kate: I’m going home!

The clock tower in the distance signals that our relationship will end soon,

I picked up the bouquet of flowers that held today’s memories and turned to leave—

Nica: Kate.

When my name was called for the first time, I automatically turned around,

And Nica used his index fingers to lift the corners of my mouth into a smile—

Nica: We’re still a couple.

Nica: Shouldn’t there be a kiss at the end of a date?

Kate: Uh……

My eyes were fixed onto the lips that drew closer to me slowly,

Unable to break away, his breath reached my lips.

(Oh…..)

The moment his lashes grazed the tip of my nose, his scent intoxicated me —

The sound of the bell tolled, marking our end as a couple.

Nica: Ah, that’s too bad.

He stepped back, his scent dissipating, and to my relief, I returned to my senses.

(Why do I think that’s a little disappointing?)

A cold wind hit my painfully aching body, and I let out a sigh.

Nica: Should we head home, young lady?

お嬢サン - Here Nica is using using polite language with Kate addressing her as “Ojosan.” However, because of the katakana form of -san “サン”, it seems to indicate that he may be saying it with a foreign accent. As far as I'm aware, this is the first instance of him addressing her this way in an event.

— This is our distance.

[Transitions to the palace.]

The next day —

Kate: Harrison, Liam what are you doing here?

Liam: Oh, Kate!

I called out to them both who were at the end of the corridor, leaning against the wall and talking about something,

Harrison looked a bit perplexed.

Harrison: Can I tell you something?

Kate: Did something happen?

Liam: Actually -

According to them, it seems that the target of a mission they were assigned to was killed.

Liam: Seems like he was stabbed by his wife too.

Kate: His wife you say…..

(It can’t be that woman….?)

Even though my heart pounds, they keep speaking.

Harrison: The husband apparently purchased women through human-trafficking, and imprisoned them at his estate.

Harrison: He also raked in money by renting the imprisoned women to others.

Kate: That’s such a……

You can imagine just how the women were treated without even saying it.

Liam: That’s why we received the mission, and thanks to his death, the truth of the estate came to light.

Liam: The women were also freed, and we don’t have to go on a mission, but….

Liam tilts his head with a stumped look, and Harrison lets out a sigh.

Harrison: All the money that guy’s earned is gone.

Kate: Does that mean it was stolen?

Harrison: There’s no money at the bank or the estate, so suspicion’s falling onto the wife.

Harrison looked unsettled about it, but then a possibility popped up in my head.

(If I say something without concrete proof, it would only deepen the rift between Vogel….But, if he —)

(—Perhaps, he might’ve done it)

Kate: Ummm.

At that moment, my eyes met with a figure that appeared at the end of the corridor.

My attention was drawn to Nica who put his finger up to his lips and smiled suspiciously,

Kate: Oh.

Suddenly, a white bird flies by and I instinctively shut my eyes.

After I opened my eyes, he was nowhere to be seen, only a single white feather floating down.

(Nica Schwartz. A cunning person who likes to toy with love.)

(But, I wonder why I can’t dislike him.)

The day when my love is toyed with, may not be that far off.

[Event Master List] Dividers: @.adornedwithlight

Yes, please, I beg you Nica, please treat us more toughly next time!!!!

Tags List: @sh0jun @theimaginativelyreticent @sapphire-323 @velisle @nateko @greatwitchsongsinger @injudescoat @aeyumicore @complexivelovely @drachonia

If you are 18+ and wish to be added to my tags list, please comment below specifying the IkeVil suitor, or for all translations.

[rinachains]

contents: drabble; villain!nanami x gn!curse user!reader; aftermath of nanami’s killing spree; inspired by gege’s sketch of villain!nanami

a/n: sth short to get out of my writing slump :P comments and reblogs are very much appreciated! divider credits: @/cafekitsune

A whistle cuts through the lingering, rapturous silence as you make your way through the now lifeless place, the heavy clacking of your boots leaving an echo, “You’ve made quite a mess, Nanami. Guess you were pretty pent up, huh?”

It’s a vision of red that greets you as you enter the office room  – piles upon piles of nameless, immobile bodies, adorned with deep slashes and dark colours, reminding you all too much of an obscure painting; done with raw, mechanical passion. You find the artist of this peculiar work slumped against a desk on the cold ground, appearing like a breathing corpse under the flickering, fluorescent light.

Tracing the tips of your fingers along one of the desks, collecting the sticky fluid staining it, you put your hands into the pockets of your jacket and stroll forward until you stand in front of him, staring down with a curl of your lips as you let your gaze wander over his limp form. Covered in blood, sweat and weariness; a pathetic yet sweet image, dissolving on the tip of your tongue. You crave it like a child.

Nanami looks up at you wordlessly, exhaustion dripping from his eyes; not an unusual sight, but this time you find something new making itself known in those hazel pools, a shivering spark that is more than familiar to you – one that you’ve seen before when you’ve met your own reflection.

The sunken shadows decorating his face slowly melt in the light that shines through. Nanami’s worn out; not from added weight, but from the relief sinking into his bones. His body feels light, tense limbs turned to cotton; as if he’s floating, not quite there, but rather stuck in another realm. Is this what it feels like to be reborn?

“I killed them.”

His futile confession raises your brow as you swiftly scan the the room before turning back to him, “You sure did.”

Nanami’s face pinches together as he groans, a guttural sound from the depths of his festered chest, his head falling back against the edge of the desk behind him with dimmed thud. He rubs the heel of his hand over his closed eyes, pressing into the lids, “I’m so tired.”

There’s a moment of quietness.

Your stare narrows and bores into Nanami with a scrutiny that allows you to unmask him, peel away each fragile layer that covers his decaying bones, and there you can see it; the utter helplessness radiating from him, ripe and desperate– a silent plea.

Something in your chest melts, once cold and heavy, and turns into goo, pouring over your body and covering each and every cell. Your smile widens, toothy and all sharp, stretching until your skin begins to tighten.  

You finally got him.

With golden honey in your mouth, you lower yourself carefully to the floor and get down on one knee in front of him, face to face, resting your arm on your propped leg. You can smell him; unscented soap and herbal tea overpowered by his rich cologne, now fused with a metallic scent, a new note. Not nauseating to him, not as expected; instead, it’s bizarrely welcoming, nearly soothing. His flared up nerves become numb and he wants to rest, just for a moment.

“Post-killing clarity can be harsh - not that I can necessarily relate, but for someone like you it’s a whole new experience. It will get better after some time, so don’t worry,” you try to reassure him, petting his knee.

Your expression then softens, cautious and deliberate, like an owner talking to their wounded pet, devoid of any judgement that would cause him to pull away, “How do you feel?” A small pause. “Do you regret it?”

A tilt of your head, lowered and evaluating, focused entirely on him – ignoring the impulsive massacre around you, as if it’s not of any grave importance to you, the background to a play. The object of your undivided attention is right in front of you; the reason you're here, why you've bothered to waste your energy.

The next words to come out of his mouth cause your back to straighten, spine prickling as your eyes brighten with a childlike gleam.

“I don’t.”

"Good."

You shift and cradle his face in your hand, leaving behind a maroon stain on his sunken cheekbone, bringing life to him, as you gently rub your thumb over his sickly pale skin. Nanami subconsciously leans into your touch, the hairs on his skin standing up and his eyelids fluttering like a newborn butterfly as he exhales brokenly. You revel in the shudder he releases; he really is just so tired.

Pulling away from his face, almost cooing as he chases after your touch, you hold out your hand, palm facing up, "C'mon then. Let's get you cleaned up, you're all dirty." His gaze drops to it, a contemplative hesitation freezing him as he sees the bloodstains on you. He has soiled you with the result of his sin, and yet there's no guilt to be found as he rummages through his insides, tearing through muscles, veins and arteries. It’s too late for that anyway, Nanami thinks as he reaches out for you.

The wavering warmth of his hand embraces yours - shared burdens, no longer untethered - sealing an unspoken bond between the two of you. Not something that can be easily undone – not something that can be undone at all.

You begin to stand up and he lowers his grip, fingers tightening around your wrist.

There’s a tremor in his lower lip, yet his voice is steady, as firm as a lighthouse hit by a storm and piercing through you with the pointed force of each syllable, “I don’t regret what I’ve done.”

Your head moves up and down, slowly, as you reply leisurely, “Yeah, I got that.” Letting out a light sigh, feigning empathy, you point at him with your chin, "I told you, didn’t I? That it would feel so much better to let loose and to listen to your instincts. Now you don’t have to carry that burden anymore – you’re free of it.”

Nanami bites the inside of his cheek, deepening the hollow line. "That’s right,” he eventually agrees. You want to laugh, heartfelt and soul-shaking; you knew he’d understand. He clears his throat, running a hand through his matted hair as his forehead creases, "…what do I do now?"

"Who knows?" You shrug. "But I'll be by your side. I guess I also have to take some responsibility in this case."  

Another pause. Less strained, more tranquilizing.

“I need a drink.”

“Then let’s get one.”

Finally, there’s a faint smile from him; one of relief, tinged with drops of gratitude, lasting only for a fleeting second, but it’s enough for you. This is what you've been longing for, what you've been attempting to bring forth.

He swallows, a stuttering bob of his prominent Adam’s apple, “I didn’t think,” he momentarily directs his stare towards one of the bodies, “I just moved. I saw their faces and I wanted them gone. Wipe those smiles away.”

“And you’ve done a great job at that,” you affirm. Your nose wrinkles, “Quite careless of you, though. You should be more careful next time, okay? You’re still responsible for your own actions, y’know.”

“I will,” Nanami says as he stands up on jellied legs, shakily regaining strength. “Be more careful, I mean.”

You squeeze his hand before letting it fall back to his side, “Alright, then. Better stay true to your word.”

Just as you're about to turn and lead him out, you stop abruptly as you hear a mumbled, "I'm sorry.”

You blink, “What?”

Nanami weakly points to your form, lips thinned as he frowns. You follow his hand and glance down your body - your suit is dirty.

“Don’t apologise,” you wave him off with a twitch of your mouth, “I don’t mind.”

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Love That Burns ~ Ending 2 ~ 55

LOVE THAT BURNS MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 1,950ish

Summary: Emotions rise and everything comes crashing down.

Notes: I couldn't help myself. Just had to get this chapter out before I went to sleep. Please share reactions! Please remember to review the timeline posted here.

Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks!

For the next week and a half, Logan and you had lunch together every day, Wade visited you during every shift, and Laura had begun pulling away. Laura had been a pretty easy child to raise, it was only a matter of time before the moody teenage years set in. Though, you knew it was more than that. You had tried to talk to her only to be met with short answers or grunts. You couldn’t help but blame yourself for some of what she was going through.

You hadn’t had an incident with your powers since the moment with Logan, in which you were grateful for. Your hands were thoroughly scarred over, but you were learning to live with it. You were trying to work past your own issues, in which Logan and Wade had a great part in that, constantly keeping tabs on you and Laura. You were becoming quick friends with the two men and it felt nice to have friends again after all these years.

It was your regular lunch with Logan. You were in your kitchen while he was drinking a beer at the table.

“I got a job,” he suddenly stated.

“You did?” You asked. “Where?”

“The mechanic’s down the street. They’ll let me work in the back and have minimal interaction with the customers.”

“That will be good for you. You need to get out more. Maybe make some friends.”

“I don’t need friends.”

“Yes, you do.”

“Well then, what are you and Wade and Laura?”

“We’re your friends, but you need people outside of this craziness.”

“And do you have any?”

“I’m getting there at work.”

The apartment door opened and closed, signaling that Laura was home. You peeked out from the kitchen.

“Hey, kiddo!” You greeted. “Logan and I were getting ready for lunch. Do you want to join us?”

“Not hungry,” she muttered, heading straight for her bedroom and closing the door.

You sighed, shoulders sagging.

“Everything alright?” Logan asked.

“It’s fine,” you responded, getting back to preparing lunch. “She’s struggling but is keeping me at arms length… She gets that from her father.”

“Or you.”

“What?”

“You’re still struggling. But you’re just masking it better than you were before.”

“You’re one to talk. I can hear you at night. These walls aren’t very thin. Do you ever get any sleep?”

“I get enough.” He took a long swig of his beer.

You scoffed. “Whatever.”

~~~

Another few weeks past with a similar routine, with the addition of Wade and Logan stopping by for dinner when you weren’t working. Between you, Laura, and Logan, you were all going through a lot but avoiding most of it.  It was a night you weren’t working. Logan just got off and headed straight of your and Laura’s place. He had let himself in quietly, only to hear an argument between you and Laura.

“For the last time, Laura, you are not going to that party,” you were clearly exasperated. “I don’t think it will be safe.”

“You never let me do anything!” Laura spat.

“I’m just trying to do my duty and protect you.”

“You’re not my real mom! I don’t have to listen to a word you say!”

The pain those words caused was more heartbreaking than anything anyone had ever said over the last few years. Logan could tell that the words hit you deep, though you were trying to cover it up. He stepped between you and Laura with a protective fury, letting the both of you know that he had entered the apartment.

“You do not talk to her that way,” he was furious at how Laura was treating you. You were just trying to protect her.

“Why? It’s not like you’re my dad!”

Those words did little to rattle Logan. “I don’t care. Y/N raised you. Show her some respect.”

“Make me.”

You had no say in the chaos that quickly erupted in your apartment living room. The two had their claws out and were actively fighting each other. Too overwhelmed to stop it as your long pushed down anxieties bubbled up, you slipped out of the apartment, tears sliding down your cheeks.

“Hey, Buttercup!” Wade’s chipper voice echoed down the hall as he headed toward you. “What are you–” The moment he saw your tears he was down on the floor in front of you. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

“Nothing,” you squeaked, shaking your head. “Everything is–” You were cut off by a guttural roar from inside your apartment. You squeezed your eyes shut as a sob tore through you. “She said I’m not her mother… she’s right… so why does it hurt so much?”

“Hey, no one makes my Buttercup cry. Not even Little Wolf.” Wade stood up straight. “Stay put. I’ll handle this.” Wade waltzed inside before you could stop him. “HEY!” Wade shouted once he was sure the door was shut. Logan and Laura stopped their fighting immediately. Wade took in the apartment, noticing how your decorations and furniture were destroyed by claws and blood. “Well, well, well. Way to ruin my day, Peanut and Little Wolf. I was on my way over to see what was for dinner when I found my precious Buttercup sobbing in the hallway.” Logan and Laura’s eyes widened as they finally realized that you were no longer in the apartment. “You two assholes need to work this out, clean this mess up, and apologize. Until that happens, my sweet buttercup will be staying with me and Blind Al.”

“But–”

“Sorry, Peanut, no room for arguments. You assholes deal with this and I’ll handle Y/N.”

Spinning on his heel, Wade opened the apartment door. “Okay, Buttercup, we’re–” Wade stopped himself as he took in the empty hall. “Buttercup? Y/N?”

Logan and Laura rushed to the doorway as Wade stepped out to get a better look. Without a second thought, Logan and Laura both sniffed, taking in your smokey scent.

“This way,” Logan huffed, leading the group down the hall.

The group headed down the stairs of the apartment complex. The scent led them outside, where it had begun to rain. Both Logan and Laura stopped, taking in deep breaths through their nostrils.

“She’s gone,” Laura’s voice wobbled. “My mom’s gone.” Guilt was seeping into her soul. She had caused this and the words she said, she didn’t even mean. You were her mother, blood or not. You had taken care of her when she had no one– when you had no one. And now you were gone. “It’s all my fault.”

Logan knew he should have been the better person, Laura was still only a kid, but right now he was too concerned for your wellbeing. “You’re fucking right this is your fault.” Though he knew those words weren’t completely true. Ignoring the rain, Logan headed down in the direction he could only hope you could have gone.

“Do you smell her?” Laura jogged after him.

“No. But she shouldn’t be out alone.”

“Yay!” Wade clapped. “An old fashioned search party!”

“No. You two can stay here.”

“Ah, come on! It can be so much–”

Laura tripped Wade as he tried to follow after Logan. Logan’s strides became longer as he kept his eyes scanning for any sign of you. It was dark and rainy. Though Logan knew first hand you could take care of yourself, he was still scared for your safety. You weren’t okay. You were carrying a lot of anxiety and sorrow that you had been forced to carry it all yourself for years, slowly wearing you down to the breaking point that came tonight. Just like Logan’s original you, you weren’t a runner. This was something heartbreakingly new.

Logan also had a inclining that you were struggling more than you let on with being back in your original timeline in 2024, where you knew that a younger version of you and your original Logan were living at the mansion together. The TVA had made it very clear that if you intervened, there would be severe consequences. In the beginning, Logan didn’t think you would, now he wasn’t so sure. Would you risk it all for just a glimpse or one last interaction? 

Logan wandered through the rainy city until dawn, with no sign of you anywhere. Deciding he needed to get Wade and Laura in on this, Logan headed back to the apartment complex. He went to your apartment first, hoping that you were in there. He wasn’t surprised to see that the mess was cleaned up and new decorations and furniture sat in place of the ones he and Laura had destroyed. Logan figured Wade had helped Laura. 

With a sigh, Logan left the apartment and headed to the one he shared with Wade and Althea. When he entered, he found Wade in his Deadpool suit, loading his golden guns.

“Well, look who returned just in time,” Wade commented.

“What’s going on?” Logan asked, noticing that Laura was there as well.

“You really need to keep your phone on you, Peanut.”

“Just tell me what the fuck is going on.”

“The TVA took my mom,” Laura stated.

Logan’s head snapped in her direction as his stomach dropped. “What? Why?”

“She apparently got too close to her original timeline self.”

“So, we’re gearing up for a daring rescue,” Wade explained, pulling his mask over his face. “You in, Prince Charming?”

~~~

It had all happened by accident. You didn’t mean to. You were wandering aimlessly through the rainy streets, just trying to clear your head and to stop the flames that threatened to engulf you. 

How were you supposed to remember that you and Logan had gone on a date in the city on this night? To you, it was a long time ago and a lot of traumatic life events have happened since. You didn’t even see your original Logan and your younger self before the TVA agents appeared and you were standing in the middle of the TVA offices, on the catwalk. B-15 was standing before you.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” she told you. You could see that she truly meant it. “You got too close to your younger timeline self and Logan.”

“I didn’t mean to,” you said, on the verge of tears once again. “I didn’t know– didn’t remember.”

“I know, but it was a part of the deal you made to return to that timeline. I have already informed Wade and Laura of the mishap. You will be sent back to The Void.”

“Please don’t do this!” You shook your head. “I can’t go back there. I can’t leave Laura alone!”

“I am so sorry, Y/N.”

Before you could fight, a TVA agent was behind you and used a time stick to send you back into The Void. You landed in the middle of an empty field. You were on your knees already, making it easier for you to bury your head in your hands and cry. It had all become too much. Losing your original Logan. Taking care of Laura. Your powers failing you. Being sent to The Void the first time. You hadn’t taken care of yourself mentally or emotionally, and it was finally taking its toll. 

You had finally reached the breaking point of it all and you were now alone, and back in The Void. You could feel flames form on your back and your skin heating up. Pain radiated through you but you didn’t care. You didn’t have any more fight in you. After years and years of fighting, you were done. Maybe if you just curled up here, Alioth would find you and end your suffering once and for all. 

next chapter >

[dulcescorderitas]

𝓬𝓵𝓪𝓻𝓴 𝓱𝓮𝓵𝓹𝓼 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓪𝓯𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓪𝓻𝓮 𝓲𝓷𝓯𝓮𝓬𝓽𝓮𝓭

author's note: im going to start put warnings on my posts!

warnings: 18+, smut

the fortress of solitude felt colder than usual, though clark wasn’t sure if it was the endless arctic winds or the icy glares you’d been shooting his way since he brought you here. your normally warm, witty demeanor was gone, replaced by a biting edge that he didn’t recognize and definitely didn’t appreciate.

“this is the best you’ve got, boy scout?” you sneered, your arms crossed over your chest. “you fly me to your crystal igloo because what—your big alien brain couldn’t figure out how to handle this on your own?”

clark sighed, his patience wearing thin. “you’re not yourself,” he said, his voice measured but firm. “whatever infected you is messing with your emotions. i’m trying to help you, but you’re making it pretty damn difficult.”

“oh, boo-fucking-hoo,” you shot back, rolling your eyes. “you don’t like that i’m not worshipping you like the rest of metropolis? guess what, superman—you’re not as perfect as you think you are.”

the venom in your words stung, but clark kept his composure. he’d seen you infected before—by kryptonite, mind control, even magic—but this was different. you weren’t just angry. you were downright mean, and it was getting under his skin in a way that made him both frustrated and... unsettled.

his gaze flicked over your body, searching for any physical signs of the infection. your skin glowed faintly, a sheen of sweat catching the fortress’s cool light. the labored rise and fall of your chest was rhythmic but heavy, as if your body was fighting itself from the inside out.

“i need to run a scan,” clark said, his voice steady despite the turmoil brewing inside him.

“oh, do you?” you snapped, stepping closer, your lips curling into a smirk. “go ahead, scan away, mr. perfect. maybe you’ll find out i’m too much woman for you to handle.”

his jaw tightened, but he forced himself to ignore your taunts. he guided you toward the kryptonian scanner, his large hands surprisingly gentle despite the tension. you didn’t resist, but you made it clear you weren’t going to make things easy.

“you know,” you said, your voice low and sultry, “maybe i don’t want to be cured. maybe i like feeling this free, this... wild. ever think of that, farm boy?”

clark stepped back, trying to ignore the way your tone sent an unexpected jolt through him. his fingers moved over the console as the scanner activated, its blue light bathing you in an otherworldly glow.

“there,” he muttered, his brow furrowing as the screen displayed the results. a foreign substance, glowing faintly red, was coursing through your bloodstream. it wasn’t kryptonite, but it was definitely kryptonian in origin.

“whatever it is, it’s amplifying your emotions,” clark said, his voice calm but firm. “we need to purge it from your system.”

“oh, yeah? and how exactly do you plan to do that?” you challenged, stepping closer, your breath brushing against his cheek. “gonna lecture it out of me? because that’s all you’re good for, isn’t it? being a self-righteous boy scout?”

his patience snapped, but instead of retreating, he leaned in, his piercing blue eyes locking onto yours. “you want to know how i’m going to get it out of you?” his voice dropped, his usual warmth replaced by something darker, more commanding. “i’m going to use every bit of strength i have to break its hold on you. and when i’m done, you’re going to remember exactly who you are.”

your smirk faltered, but only for a moment. “big talk for someone who can’t handle a little attitude,” you shot back, though your voice wavered.

clark didn’t respond. instead, he closed the distance between you in an instant, his hands gripping your hips as he pressed you back against one of the fortress’s crystalline walls. his touch was firm but not rough, his lips brushing your ear as he spoke.

“this isn’t you,” he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. “but if this is what it takes to bring you back, then so be it.”

his words sent a shiver down your spine, your defiance faltering for the first time. before you could muster another snarky remark, his lips were on yours—hot, demanding, and relentless. he kissed you like he was trying to break the infection’s hold with sheer force, his tongue parting your lips to claim you completely.

you gasped into his mouth, the fiery anger in your veins starting to twist, morph, into something just as hot but far more desperate. his hands moved with purpose, sliding down your body to grip your thighs, lifting you effortlessly against the wall.

“clark—” your voice wavered, caught between a plea and a growl.

“trust me,” he murmured against your lips, his voice rough, almost commanding.

his hands slid between your thighs, spreading them wide as his fingers found the slick heat pooling there. he didn’t hesitate, his touch firm and deliberate, his fingers stroking over your clit with a precision that made your head fall back against the crystal wall.

your body betrayed you, hips bucking against his hand as his touch grew more insistent. his thumb circled your clit while his fingers slid lower, teasing your entrance before pushing inside with maddening skill.

“you’re fighting it,” he said, his lips brushing against your ear as his fingers curled inside you, pressing against a spot that sent a shockwave of pleasure through your body. “don’t. let go.”

your hands clawed at his shoulders, your nails digging into the fabric of his suit as he worked you with an intensity that was almost overwhelming. his fingers moved faster, his thumb pressing harder against your clit, the rhythm of his movements building a pressure inside you that felt impossible to contain.

“clark, i—” your voice broke, your breath coming in ragged gasps.

“let it out,” he commanded, his voice steady, unwavering. “all of it.”

and then it happened. the pressure inside you shattered, a blinding wave of release that ripped through your body, leaving you trembling in his arms. your vision blurred, your cries echoing through the fortress as your body convulsed, slick heat spilling onto his hand as he coaxed every last drop from you.

“that’s it,” he murmured, his voice softer now, almost soothing. his fingers slowed, drawing out your release until you were spent, your body sagging against him.

the red glow in your eyes faded, replaced by the warmth and softness he knew so well. as you came back to yourself, clark held you close, his hand cradling the back of your head as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“you’re okay,” he said, his voice filled with relief. “i’ve got you.”

you looked up at him, your cheeks flushed, your lips trembling. “clark... i—”

“don’t,” he interrupted, his lips quirking into a faint smile. “you’ve been through enough. just let me take care of you.”

and for once, you did.

[lynnie-ee]

Paint the roses red.

╰┈➤"In which the Prefect makes a portray for Hearstlabyul's Housewarden in hopes that he'll realise their feelings for him.”

╰►Gender neutral reader, oneshot, 1.1k words. Non-established relationship. Reader is mentioned to be good at drawing and painting.

╰►Note: English is not my first language, so feel free to tell me if there are any grammatical mistakes!

╰►Masterlist. (requests open)

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The warm softness of the sun envelops the gardens of the Heartslabyul Dorm on a calm Saturday morning. Riddle hums quietly, enjoying the silence, an uncommon occurrence, even rarer after the enrollment of two certain freshmen in the dorm. Still, he decides to just bask in the moment, a cup of tea in his hand as he enjoys the peace brought by the early hour, when everyone else was sleeping.

“Riddle.” His name is called softly from a near distance, and he’s quick to recognize the owner of the voice, who promptly appears before him, a bag on their hands as the approach his seat.

“Prefect.” He greets with a similar demeanour, gesturing for them to sit down in front of him, his expression stern as usual but his voice softer, maybe due to the quiet ambience, maybe due to the presence of the magicless student. “What brings you here so early?”

“I wanted to see you.” The explanation falls gently from their lips, as they reach for the cup of tea that Riddle extends towards them, which they use to mask the smile on their face as they observe Heartslabyul’s Housewarden blushing slightly at the honesty of their words. “You’ve been awfully busy due to the final exams, haven’t you?”

“Indeed, studying and tutoring members of the dorm takes a great amount of my time.” He nods, his gaze drifting momentarily towards the small bag the Prefect carried, before looking at them once again. “I trust you’ve already done plenty of studying for the upcoming tests?”

“Haha, of course…” They answered with a nonchalant voice, although the slight fidgety movement of their hands could betray that their statement was perhaps, not at all true, which didn’t go unnoticed by the second-year student.  

“…If you were to be in need of assistance on any subject, please don’t refrain from seeking my help.”

“Oh, don’t worry! You’re already busy enough handling your students, I wouldn’t want to bother you.”

“You’re never a bother, Prefect.”

Silence reigned once again between the two of them, as the Prefect took a moment to recover from the natural way in which Riddle’s words made their heart flutter with delight, only fuelling further the nervous sensation they had before they arrived at his dorm.

‘This may be the best moment to do it.’ They conclude after a brief look at Riddle’s peaceful expression, clearing their throat to catch his attention as they pick up the bag that was previously resting on their lap.

“Drinking tea with you wasn’t the only reason why I came here, I must tell you.” They mumbled, taking a small canvas out of their bag, glancing at the inviting expression of the Housewarden, who quietly encouraged them to continue. “I wanted to give you this.”

Riddle picks up the canvas carefully, his expression stern but his touch gentle as he holds it and allows himself to examine it attentively. His face quickly burns in bright red as he recognizes his very own features captured with delicacy on the fibres of the canvas, accompanied by flowers that surrounded his frame with the same artistry.

“Do you like it?” The Prefect breaks the silence, their impatience growing further as they observed the lack of comment from the Heartslabyul student. He coughs discreetly on his palm as to mask his bashful state, his gaze drifting away from the canvas towards the person in front of him.

“It’s a marvellous work.” Is all he manages to say, before realizing how tactless he sounded. “I…I really appreciate it. Deuce and Ace had commented before that you were skilled at painting, but I might have underestimated their words.”

“Well, I’m still learning a few things, so there may be some mistakes on the portrait-”

“It’s perfect, I assure you.” He interrupts quickly, a faint smile on his lips. “May I ask what led you to choose me for the painting?”

“I just felt like drawing you.” The Prefect blurted out, their gaze avoiding Riddle’s eyes as they could feel the heat rising toward their cheeks.

“I noticed there are flowers on the portrait, too. I’m not familiar with them, what are these?”

The Prefect sighed to shake away the anxious feeling on their chest, thinking about the inspiration for the painting, while refuging themselves behind the cup of the tea that had been sitting forgotten on the table for a few minutes now.

“Well, at first, I wanted to paint red roses. It was the most obvious option for me.” They explained carefully, glancing at the flowers that surrounded them in the middle of the dorm garden. “But I’ve been reading about flower language lately, and I wanted to look for something more fitting. A flower that represented my feelings better, you could say. These flowers-” They pointed them out on the canvas. “-are red tulips.”

“How interesting.” He mumbled, curiously observing the painting, looking at the detailed illustrations. “I’m not really familiar with flower language. What do red tulips mean?”

“That’s something you’ll have to investigate by yourself, I’m afraid.” They got up from their sitting, picking up their bag. “After all, what’s the fun in telling you directly?”

“I suppose you’re right, Prefect.” Riddle smiled softly, carefully leaving the painting on the table, allowing him to walk towards the magicless student to bid them goodbye properly. “Thank you for the portrait, I’ll treasure it accordingly.”

“I’m glad you liked it.” They mumbled, ready to go back to their own dorm before Grim woke up. “I’ll see you around, Riddle.”

“Of course. I’ll inform you as soon as I look into the meaning of the flowers.”

“…Take your time, don’t worry.” Their voice was tinted with embarrassment before they turned around to leave the Heartslabyul dorm. Riddle kept their gaze on them until they disappeared out of the garden, his cheeks tinted red as he looked once again at the portrait on the table, a reminder of the thoughtfulness of the Prefect.

It didn’t take long before he found himself walking through the corridors of the library, a book about flowers in his hand, his curiosity piqued as he searched for the specific kind of plant among the pages.

“Red tulips, red tulips, red tulips…. Oh, here they are.”

His fingers suddenly dropped the book on the table in front of him. Riddle nervously glanced once again at the words printed on the piece of paper as to make sure he didn’t read incorrectly, his face painted on a bright red that seemed to put the colour of a red rose to shame.

‘ Red Tulip: passion, romance. “I declare my love.” ‘

⤿

⤿

⤿

[le-fruit-de-la-passion]

I ran here after your response to that musical!reader headcanon and the mention of Jekyll and Hyde has me SWOONING.

I saw a local production where the woman playing Lucy went out into the audience during "Bring On The Men" and flirted with people, she even sat down on her friend's lap!

What if musical!reader did that to Viktor 🤭

OH MY G O D THATS SO COOL???

Viktor would DIE. Like actually just pass way. Stop breathing and ascend to the next plane of existence. Glorious Evolution TM.

Viktor is usually very appreciative of music. It's similar to mathematics, in many ways, equations of numbers and notes put together for a new and unique sounding result. He does enjoy theater as well from time to time: it requires a lot of practice, experience, trial and error... by that logic, musical theater should be an art form just as objectively interesting in his eyes.

If what you're doing on stage right now is musical theater, though, he's having a VERY hard time staying objective about it.

It's nothing short of dirty. From the corset that hugs your waist and reveals way too much of your generous chest, to the way you're spreading your legs invitingly for the entire audience to see, everything about you screams sex. He's absolutely transfixed, incapable of looking away from the way your hands touch your own body to the beat of the invisible orchestra.

He's only pulled away from the moment when some students a few seats away start loudly whistling and whooping for your attention, like this is a strip club and not a college play.

THAT'S when he starts to get mad.

He's suddenly very aware of the fact that there's about a hundred other people in the room, students and faculty members, watching the same performance he is. How many of them will imagine you in their bed tonight? How many of them are imagining you in their lap right now?

The smile on your lips speak louder than a thousand words: you're enjoying this, the thrill of the stage, the eyes undressing you while you sing your pretty little song about getting fucked by nameless strangers. Even worse, he's certain you're taking pleasure in knowing he's got front row seats for it, that you've effectively got him powerless and chained down while you're giving a show he should be the only one witnessing.

You've flipped over your roles as student and teacher, and now, he's the one who has to sit silently and drink every word from your lips. It's devilishly clever.

He would be genuinely impressed if he wasn't burying his nails into his cane with one hand and trying to cover the tent in his dress pants with the other.

The projector suddenly moves; it follows you as you're going down the few stairs from the stage to the floor, heels sharp against the concrete floor.

So lets bring on the men

And let the fun begin

Your eyes finally meet his. They're filled with bright sparkles from the stage lights, teasing and provoking. Tauntingly asking if he's ready for what's next, when you both know he doesn't have a say in the matter. The show must go on.

'Ah, shit' is the only thing that comes across his mind before you sit on his lap, the spotlight blinding him.

A little touch of sin

Why wait another minute?

Your movements are calculated and precise, applying just enough pressure on his clothed cock for you to feel how hard he is, without granting him any relief. The audience cheers; he thinks he's having an aneurism.

You bat your mascara heavy eyelashes at him, abandoning the play for a triumphant instant. 'See?' he can almost hear you say. 'I knew I'd get your attention eventually. What's your next move, professor?'

Oh, he is going to make you regret this.