#i suddenly feel like i can't gif but whatever

[reiderwriter]

Unfair We're Not Somewhere

Chapter Eight of I Can't Help Myself

Summary: With a little bit of help from someone who could relate a little bit too closely to your situation, Y/N tries to come clean. Tries.

Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy symptoms/ general pregnancy things, unsub mentions, plot.

A/N: Chapter Eight! I'm so excited for where the rest of this series is going to go, though I do feel like people are going to be a bit annoyed by this one lmao. Let me know your thoughts in the comments below or in an ask! Don't be too mad...

Masterlist || Add yourself to the tag list

You sat quietly in the clinic as you waited for the pharmacist to fill your prescription - a simple pregnancy multivitamin that was supposed to help your food go down, make your hair shinier, and fix all your problems.

You wondered if the bottle could tell Spencer you were pregnant. You wondered if it could make him magically okay with that and prepare him for fatherhood, too. 

Your phone buzzed, and you surfaced from the field of thoughts you'd been lost in as you checked it. 

“Outside,” an unknown number had sent. You took that as your queue, stood up, and left the clinic, trying your best to avoid looking back at the small boy Spencer had been playing with. 

You weren't sure if you were going to have a boy or a girl yet. You didn't mind either, though you'd always envisioned yourself with a big enough family that you assumed at least one of each was inevitable. Though even you had to admit how stereotypically nuclear that was, and how only 18% of the country was living that was lying anyway. 

You shoved psychology from your head for a few minutes and let yourself breathe.

“Y/N!” JJ signalled from the driver's side of her still running SUV. She waved slightly, and you smiled politely as you quickly paced around to the side of her vehicle and got in. 

“Hi,” you said, unsure if you should introduce yourself or not. She'd been in the office the day you'd been taken into custody (protection), but you still had yet to speak to her. She'd been exempt from protective duty so far due to her status as a senior field agent and the fact that she had two kids and a husband at home waiting for her. 

You were sad she was the anomaly in the BAU, the only one with someone waiting on her. 

“I'm Y/N,” you said, still unsure if you should hold out a hand or not. You hadn't made the best impression on most of Spencer's colleagues, and while you didn't think there was much point in trying, you still couldn't bring yourself to be intentionally blasé. 

“I know, you're all we've been talking about for weeks,” the woman laughed, pulling out of the clinic car park and smiling at you. 

“Oh, right. Case. Of course, I've heard you probably know more about me than I know about myself.” 

“We have a profile, sure, but that's not what I meant.” 

You nodded awkwardly and stared out the window for a second, the sky darkening slightly as it prepared to rain. 

You drove for a few minutes before JJ spoke up again. 

“I don't know if Emily told you, but it's actually my day off today,” she said, turning off into a cul-de-sac you'd never seen before. 

“Oh, oh my god, I'm so sorry. I could've just got a taxi or something or just… gotten over myself. You didn't have to-” 

“Yes, I did,” she looked at you for a second, cocking her head to the side in a gesture that said, ‘and you know why.’ It was a look only a friend would give, and you felt an instant connection with her. 

How had Spencer found so many wonderful, big-hearted women to surround himself with, and how could you get in on it? 

You supposed, by letting him get you pregnant, you'd probably found a cheat code for whatever the answer might have been. 

“Anyway, it's my day off, so I promised my boys a fun day at home with mommy. We're doing finger painting and macaroni art. I hope you don't mind getting messy.” 

“Wha-? Me? Oh. No, not at all,” you tried to seem nonchalant, but your heart suddenly beat faster now that you were faced with this unexpected opportunity. As a lecturer, you'd been surrounded by kids professionally for years now. 18 to 21 year old kids. The kind that already had defined morals, world views, and, secretly, alcohol tolerances. The last time you'd encountered any kind of child younger than 18 was when you yourself were under 18.

The joys of toiling away at a doctorate for the better half of your adult life. You knew how to talk to professors and scholars. You were absolutely scared shitless of interacting with a kid. 

“H-How old are they?” You asked, trying to sound polite but falling somewhere between anxious and terrified with a simple stutter. 

“Well, Henry is turning 8 in November, and Michael is just about 22 months. He's just about talking, which is as fun as you can expect.” 

Her voice was tired, but there was genuine affection there, love for her kids and pride. You wondered if your voice would change if you'd suddenly begin speaking like that, too, about something other than a paper submitted to a journal or a job opportunity. 

She pulled into a street parking space and turned off the engine as two bright haired little boys came bouncing up the path of their garden to greet her, stopping at the gate. 

“Mommy! Michael got glitter on the carpet, and Daddy said we shouldn't tell you.” 

“And you have no sense of loyalty when a pretty face comes around, do you?”

Hopping out of the car, you heard JJ's husband drawl as she greeted him with a kiss. She'd probably only taken half an hour to pick you up, but they were still greeting each other so warmly. For a second, you wondered what that would be like before you remembered throwing yourself into Spencer's arms the night before. Your face heated as you stood awkwardly at the side of the car, trying not to cradle your stomach as you watched the family interact. 

Would your baby ever get that tall? Would it have brown eyes like Spencer, or one's more similar to your own? His hair was curly. Maybe your baby would get hair that waved like his, too. 

After all, JJ's kids seemed like perfect compromises between her and her husband. Other people's kids didn't, though. You wondered a lot of things before JJ gestured you over again. 

“Henry, Michael, this is Aunt Y/N. She's going to do those crafts with us today - after we've locked away the glitter and thrown away the key.” 

You laughed as she wrapped an arm around your shoulder and pushed you forward into the chaos of two kids under ten. 

You were a little startled as the smaller one - Michael - grabbed your hand. He had a pacifier in his mouth, though he was probably outgrowing it, and he stared up at you with big, wide eyes, blinking and sizing you up as he toddled along beside you. 

Your heart grew three sizes, and you felt sorry for ever being afraid of interacting with the kids. 

JJ whispered to her husband quickly as you entered the LaMontagne household, and he greeted you quickly. 

“So you're Spencer's lady friend. It's nice to meet you. It's nice that you're real. Honestly, I was getting a little-” 

A look from JJ cut him off, though he did still seem a bit confused. 

“I'm sorry, am I under the wrong impression? JJ said you were pregnant with Spencer's baby, y'all aren't…” 

“Oh my god-” you whispered, suddenly panicking again but whispering just in case. You weren't sure if the pair was religious, and though you certainly weren't, it probably wasn't the best time to blaspheme. You needed as much god as existed in the world. 

“So, does everyone know?” You asked JJ, trying to keep your voice bright and calm, so Michael didn't take too much of an interest and grow frustrated by hushed tones. You knew enough about child development and psychology, it translated over, right? 

“Everyone who's observant. Luke noticed the pregnancy vitamins in your bag, Tara was talking about your mood swings in the office the other day. I guess you told Emily earlier, and I have two kids.” 

You nodded at the answer. 

“And Spencer?” 

“You haven't told him yet?” JJ asked, slightly surprised. 

“If I told him, you'd know.” 

��Well, you're right on that. He's not the most easy-going during pregnancy,” JJ laughed and steered you into the living space, where your de facto art studio had been set up for the day, along with the offending glitter bomb. 

“Really? You thought you could keep that a secret?” 

“Well, of anyone was going to find it, it was going to be my beautiful, smart, funny, profiler Wife,” Will said, giving her a small peck on the cheek as she rolled her eyes at him. “I'm clocking in now. Call me if you need anything.” 

You waved him off, and sat down with the kids. 

JJ started the craft and then planned your hasty escape as the two boys were enraptured by making the perfect macaroni necklace, dusting it in objectively too much glitter as they proudly created their art. 

In the kitchen, she handed you a mug, and you sipped it quietly as she began again. 

“So, you're not dating?” 

“Nope.”

“And he doesn't know you're pregnant?” 

“No.” You took another sip and shifted from one foot to the other. 

You knew what was coming next. It was what you'd gotten next from Emily, from Penelope, from yourself when you'd thought about it for longer than ten seconds. You needed to tell him. 

“Okay. What's your next move?” 

You were so shocked you almost splashed the hot tea over the mug you held, close to burning yourself as you turned to face her. 

“I… what?” 

“Well, what's your next move? You're what, five months along? You're not going to be able to hide it for much longer. And you have to think about maternity leave, your hospital stay, and names, and who's going to drive you to the hospital. And obviously, how you're going to pay the hospital fee, and then custody and child support.”

“Oh god…” 

“And you also have to sort your relationship out with Spencer. So where are you starting?” 

It wasn't a question that didn't have an answer. JJ was staring at you, waiting for one as you opened and closed your mouth, head suddenly so empty you almost forgot what you were talking about. 

“He doesn't like me,” you suddenly blurted and wished you hadn't, face crumpling as you physically cringed at your own words. 

“Y/N, he was telling us about your toothbrush yesterday. Part of the office has a theory that he made up this case as a reason to get closer to you.” 

Again, you felt the heat blossom on tour skin as you looked away, taking another sip. 

“We don't do anything but argue.” 

“You do at least one other thing,” JJ said, hands on her hips as she confronted you. 

“No, that doesn't count. We were still arguing while we were doing…that.” 

“TMI,” she groaned as you fanned yourself. “Y/N, I know for a fact that Spencer is at least half in love with you. If you're absolutely sure you don't feel the same way, you need to at least let him down easy.”

“I…. I don't know. He's infuriating sometimes, but then he's so smart and annoying. But he's pretty great at comforting me. And the, uh, the other stuff, that was good, too.” 

“Don't need to-” 

“Like really good. Like, I'm not surprised I ended up pregnant practically first time good-” 

“Back on topic, please!” JJ whisper shouted, throwing her hands up as you zipped your mouth shut.

“You like him,” she said. 

You sighed and finally gave in. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I like him.” 

“Great. What next?” 

“Next, I tell him I'm pregnant and make him hate me for a while.” 

She patted you on the back and poised you another mug of tea before leading you back over to the kids and sitting beside them at the table. 

“We can plan something later. For now, macaroni art is calling.”

You weren't sure if it was the stern, practical pep-talk from JJ or the little tiny grasp of your hand from Michael. Maybe it was even Henry's goodbye of ‘see you soon, Auntie Y/N’ that had you suddenly invigorated, but you suddenly kicked yourself into gear. 

The pregnancy wasn't going to put itself on pause while you worked up the courage to tell Spencer about it. You had to do it. 

JJ dropped you off at home at 6 p.m., knowing that Spencer would be back at the apartment shortly. 

“You're sure you don't need me to stay up there with you? The commute can get a bit long this time of night, Spencer could be anywhere between 15 and 45 minutes.”

“No, I think… I think I need some time to think about how I'm going to do this. I need some alone time.”

She nodded quietly and sent you off after calling Spencer and giving him an update on your whereabouts. 

You paced the apartment wondering what the best option was. 

You could go for the bookshelf again, though it was still organised into your first message. You'd not moved a book in that stack at all, and surprisingly, neither had Spencer. 

Running into your room, you grabbed the pair of baby shoes you'd thrown into your bag from your apartment. Maybe if you left them on the shelf next to the books…? 

You put them there and frowned, wondering if he'd be able to see them from the door when he walked in. He was so used to the surroundings of his house that he really didn't check for irregularities. 

You moved them to the coffee table. Then you wondered if you should just hand them to him when he walked in. 

“Spencer. I am..pregnant,” you practised, looking into the bathroom mirror as you tried to force a smile. 

“Spencer. We're pregnant. No, not a chance,” you sighed. 

“Spencer, I have a parasite growing in me. I've had it for five months now, and then I'll have it for another four and hopefully a long time after that as well.” 

That one was mostly a joke. Mostly. 

“Spencer, I… We're going to have a baby.” You looked down at your bump again and decided that was probably your best option. It wasn't a state. It wasn't a condition or a parasite. It was a baby. 

You rubbed your stomach again and looked up, wiping away tears from the corner of your eye as you composed yourself again. 

The doorbell rang, and your heart race picked up. It was time. Spencer was home, and you were going to tell him. 

Suddenly, you were filled with excitement, with happiness. You ran to the door, stepping on the sofa to get there quicker as you ran to pull it open. 

Maybe it was the pregnancy brain fog, but you forgot where you were. 

Spencer Reid lived in this apartment. He didn't need to knock on the door or ring the doorbell. He'd never done it before. But you'd already swung the door open quickly, and you were so relaxed and ready for it to be him that when a hand extended and covered your mouth with a cloth, thick with a scent that had your body protesting, you could do nothing but crumple to the floor with your hands cradling yourself, protecting the life growing within you. 

🔖@mindfullycriminal @aliteralsemicolon @r-3dlips @alexafromamazon15 @jasf444 @subunitless @thebloomingeagle @lackingoriginalthoughts @empressgraytea @2hiigh2cry @jiuseoks @readinglatenights @placidus @dreamsarebig

@pisceslovrr @waywardgoddess66 @tampon_racecar @kbaby-024 @luvdella @feyresqueen @a1dyn @pleasantwitchgarden @kolasbombaf @lovehadlovelost @kissesforspence @moonchildooh @bubbleebubz @theoraekenslover @melagem02 @calypso-read

@ari-aurelia @flipsideoflife @mggreidsreads @@farfromthehomelands @spicyspirit @donttrustlove @chicaconfudidaycuriosa @ivet4 @nox-xie @sarakay-gvf @miss-ev @@nvrlandqueen @delicatelittleworld @nokjhg @measure-in-pain @famouslynerdy @batrensworld @batrensworld

@Cattosmush @im-this-girl @Sarcasm-and-stiles @lovemelaunic @lllucere@ Cattosmush @lariclifford @daphnesutton Ccatstars @Iniyalovesall @solemnarration @emma-e-a @haygirleyhay Mel-knee @broadwaytraaaaash @Wildflowerpassion @itshardtopickaname @Timidquindim

@yourfavoritefangirl @waywardxrhea @Aliceofonederland @joshuafatubaee @jc10622 @timeboundkate @Roslxnxx @Gensthoughts23 @marvelshittt @lavvylove @Slitherss @mythumbhurts @Xiaexact @Honestlyloving @maryyy-8

@timeboundkate @justdamnpeachy @awezomezauce @darling006 @thefalseapp @chicaconfundidaycuriosa @fabulouslynerdy @short-mess @maeganme @crazyunsexycool @redmoonsofvenus @supraveng @lilscb @jackierose902109 @thebooklocket

[sandushengshou]

mxtxnet's october event | day 2: smile

[val-made-a-mistake]

❝PUSHING THE LIMITS.❞

(not my gif)

summary: eddie might fuck you good, but venom pushes your limits.

warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT, nasty ass smut, surprised-myself-while-writing-it kind of smut, sorta dubcon towards the end, oral sex f and m receiving, sticky tendrils and tentacles and appendages and such, bondage using v's tendrils, hair pulling, spanking, double penetration, eddie spitting in reader's mouth, eddie slaps reader's cheek a lil bit in the beginning, overstimulation central, names like "good girl", "sweet angel", "sweet girl", "beautiful girl"... don't wanna hype myself up too much, but i think y'all are gonna be eating good while reading this one. monsterfucking. i am definitely not getting into heaven, so make my sacrifice worth it and grab some popcorn!

word count: 2k

a/n: if you've ever wanted me to write a sequel for fics like "take the reins" and "don't pretend", this is for you. i can't believe this is my official return to fic writing LMAO, but we're pretending like i never left! (yes i know i posted my last fic in april.) i hope you enjoy, please give me some feedback for this one!

//////

“Gooooood fuckin’ girl.”

You struggled to hide your wince as Eddie harshly slapped your cheek again: you were on your knees, your face raised to look at him as he knelt over you, directing your face in whatever way he wanted it to go. Some parts sweet, some parts rough - whether it was pulling your hair until your cunt twinged with need, or spitting in your mouth when it got too dry for him to fuck, or how fucking good his cock felt when it was shoved into your mouth, you took all of it enthusiastically. 

You hadn’t heard Venom’s commentary in a while, but at least Eddie seemed to be enjoying himself.

“That’s great, honey,” Eddie gasped as he slipped the tip of his cock in your mouth again: you sucked on it dutifully, slathering your spit over his already glistening length, but throughout all of it, your eyes were locked on his face.

He was almost out of breath just from watching you. “Jeez, that’s fuckin’ nasty…”

Overachieving, you responded by taking his whole length into your mouth until the tip of his cock slammed into your uvula and you were forced to gag.

You meant to stay there, but Eddie’s hand was buried in your hair very suddenly, tugging you backward: he evidently hadn’t been expecting that.

“Easy, honey,” he told you. “It’s not every day I got a girl jumping all over me, y’know.”

You sat back on the bed and stuck out your tongue for him, grinning widely. “Sorry.”

Inside his head, Venom scoffed.

PUSSY.

“N-no, don’t be sorry for anything,” Eddie managed to say to you as he allowed his cock into your mouth again, determined to keep Venom at bay inside his thoughts. “Feels so fucking good, just like that…”

Sucking him off until he came had to be the plan, you figured, so you kept going, keeping your tongue flat along his length as he fucked your mouth. His cock was so goddamn thick, and your tongue kept brushing along a prominent vein as you went. The best part was his hand, firm in your hair, ensuring he was using you in whatever way he wanted.

Meanwhile, Venom’s voice was a reassuring purr in Eddie’s ear.

SHE LOOKS SO GOOD LIKE THIS, EDDIE.

So it came as a bit of a surprise when Eddie decided he wanted to move: he was off of you in an instant, but he was grabbing your leg, indicating he wanted you to move with him.

His voice was soft, almost sweet, keeping you wet. “Up, honey, c’mon.”

Breathless, your heart pounding now that there wasn’t a hand in your hair anymore, you got off your knees and, following his direction, rolled over on the bed.

“Shit,” Eddie commented appreciatively, just before he spanked you harshly. “Pop that up for me, honey.”

Grinning sheepishly, you buried your face in the pillow and lifted your stinging ass in the air for him.

“Fuck,” he gasped as the palm of his hand brushed over your pussy - yeah, you already knew you were dripping, and the humiliation of it made you flush. “You always get this wet just having a dick in your mouth?”

“It’s just you,” you mumbled weakly, which earned your another spank.

“Just me, huh?” Eddie replied, mockingly, making your face burn. “Not V? You’re telling me this pretty pussy’s dripping just because of me?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but he’d spanked you directly on your pussy this time, making you moan weakly.

“Fuck,” you gasped, burying your face in the pillows. You had a feeling that Venom would’ve teased you endlessly if you moaned for him, and you weren’t sure if you could handle it when your pussy was already this wet, but God, you’d never been more tempted.

Inside his head, Venom was sounding impressed, but he hadn’t revealed himself yet.

KEEP GOING, EDDIE. YOU WILL BREAK HER.

Keeping your head in the pillow, you spread your legs wider for him, trying to expose as much of your pussy as you could. Spurred on by Venom’s praise, Eddie grinned.

“Fucking glistening,” he laughed, running a finger delicately along your drenched pussy, sending sensitive nerves haywire. “What a pussy. I mean, Jesus…”

He leaned forward to press a gentle kiss to your damp inner thigh, and that simple, two-second touch had your mind speeding out of control with obscenities. No doubt about it, spreading your holes like this turned you on: you could feel your slick running down your inner thighs, and if your brain wasn’t jammed, you would’ve been begging for Eddie for Venom to come out, to finally fuck you.

Breathless with anticipation, you grabbed a fistful of pillows instead and waited patiently, keeping still.

Inside his head, Venom was chomping at the bit, too.

WHEN WILL YOU LET ME OUT, EDDIE?

Just give me a few more minutes, Eddie’s thoughts responded, a bit urgently.

He opted to pretend as though nothing had happened, keeping his control over you.

“Spread your legs more, baby. I want to see how turned on I made you.”

Moaning weakly, you did as he said, spreading your legs to reveal your glistening wet mess of a pussy: you had yet to touch yourself, or do anything to stop the spread of heat in your most sensitive spot, but you felt like if he didn’t touch you soon, you were going to go into cardiac arrest.

You closed your eyes and listen to him move closer.

Eddie’s hands were warm around your thighs, and you could feel him kiss both of your inner thighs - dear god, he’s about to kill you - before he kissed your clit, enveloping it with warmth. 

Everywhere. Oh God.

You gasped weakly. “Oh, Eddie…”

Again, Venom’s voice was a reassuring purr in Eddie’s ear.

YOU ARE UNRAVELLING HER, EDDIE. KEEP GOING.

“That feel good?” he whispered, kissing you softly again.

Well, fucking obviously: you were clutching the pillows above you with all your might, doing your best not to squirm in pleasure. “Eddie, please…”

You were so fucked out you couldn’t finish that sentence, but Eddie knew what it meant, and Venom did too.

LET ME OUT, EDDIE. YOU KNOW SHE WANTS IT.

“You need V, honey?” Eddie whispered from between your legs: he sensed from the growing warmth in his abdomen that he wouldn’t have control over his body for much longer, so he was determined to savour it for as long as he could.

You nodded weakly, flushed with pleasure - Eddie’s tongue may have been a natural, non-monstrous length, but it was pressed to your clit nonetheless, and it would’ve made anybody come after long enough. “Give him to me.”

That did it: Venom came out with a flourish, enveloping Eddie’s body entirely in black goo until he wasn’t Eddie anymore, but tendrilled and sticky and terrifying and one hundred percent Venom.

You almost came at the sight of him. “Oh, V…”

Venom’s tongue protruded from his mouth, licking clean his impressive row of fangs. His milky white eyes might’ve caused others to cower, but you stared directly into them, breathless. It was fascinating, really, how quickly Eddie had disappeared.

Venom’s voice was a deep purr, deeper than anything you’d ever heard.

DID YOU MISS ME, SWEET ANGEL?

“I did, V,” you gasped as a glittering black tendril snuck up your leg, “God, I - I want you so bad.”

Venom cocked his head to the side, watching you intently, like a predator watching its prey.

I TELL EDDIE THAT ALL THE TIME.

You gasped as the appendage finally breached your cunt, pulsating and sticky, giving you exactly the feeling of fullness you wanted. “Oh, Venom…”

The pillow you were clinging onto was gone in a second, replaced by two tendrils pinning your arms onto the bed. Before you knew it, two other tentacles were wrapping around your ankles, fully restricting your ability to move, and there you were, trapped on the bed as Venom was leering above you, his cock sliding in and out of you.

His pace was relatively slow, but you soaked up every pulsing inch succeeded inside of you, and every now and again, he’d make the tendril twist, bringing you closer to the edge every time.

I DON’T EVER THINK I’VE SEEN YOU THIS WET, SWEET ANGEL.

I don’t think I’ve ever been this wet, your thoughts responded incredulously, but all that came out was a choked, “Ngh!”

You were coming, you knew it, and it still hit you like a fucking freight train: the orgasm rushed through you as blood thundered to your brain, euphoria crashing over you at maximum intensity. Everything welling up inside of you just burst, and nothing had ever been so lovely.

You went deaf for a moment as the only thing you could hear was your heart absolutely pounding and the shrill ringing in your ears, but you knew you were gasping for breath, completely overtaken by this orgasm. You’d never tell Eddie, but it was Venom who knew how to pull orgasms from you like this, and only Venom, his glittering black cock absolutely destroying you from the inside out.

Of course, it was then Venom suddenly decided to slam his cock into you at full force, overstimulating you beautifully.

The confidence in his voice never wavered.

I KNOW YOU CAN TAKE IT, BEAUTIFUL GIRL. I HAVE SEEN YOU TAKE IT.

“Oh, Venom,” you were gasping over and over, but you couldn’t fully hear yourself over the ringing in your ears and the sounds of Venom’s glittering black tendril sliding in and out of your drenched, abused pussy, filling you up to the maximum. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

He did the pulsating, twisting thing inside of you once again, and your eyes nearly rolled back into your head: when he was pinning you down like this, you had nothing to hold onto, it was just you, the cock inside of you, and the threat of this monstrous creature swallowing you whole. “Oh my god, Venom!”

HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT EDDIE SEEING THIS, SWEET GIRL?

“Oh, fuck, Venom…” you moaned from underneath him, incoherent now as his cock pistoned in and out of you. You were blathering, but the message was clear: don’t fucking stop!

Venom was smug, now.

HOW DO YOU FEEL KNOWING I CAN TAKE YOU BETTER THAN EDDIE EVER COULD?

“You’re better than Eddie,” you mumbled incoherently as Venom ramped up speed, “Loads better than Eddie, I just - oh fuck - holy shit, V, keep going!”

WILL YOU COME FOR ME, SWEET ANGEL?

Yes, I will, your thoughts responded immediately, but actions spoke louder than words: your second orgasm ripped through you as your legs shook, you were pushed to the point of insanity. This one really took you by surprise compared to the first, but you revelled in it, your vision flashing with white as Venom fucked into you. You could feel your body sinking into the bed despite the restraints, spent, and you almost thought it was over, but–

Venom, of course, didn’t care.

COME FOR ME AGAIN, BEAUTIFUL GIRL.

“V,” you whispered weakly, your entire body damp with sweat from your last orgasm, “I - I don’t think I can, I just came.”

Above you, Venom absolutely snarled, and his tongue slithered down to force your legs even further apart.

WHEN I SAY COME, YOU COME!

A second, bigger tendril sank into your ass this time, and you gasped: you were filled, completely and utterly filled, and God, you’d be lying if it didn’t feel so fucking wonderful.

“I - I’m gonna come,” you blathered, blinking hard as the realization set in: you were about to come faster than you’d ever come in your life. “I - I’m gonna come, V, holy - oh my god-”

The words I’m coming were lost in your throat, but it didn’t matter: in a matter of seconds, you’d came for a third time, and the euphoria this time around was still there, yet with a bitter and harsh edge. Your body was exhausted, but your pussy was drenched, and all Venom knew was to keep fucking going, so–

You were gasping, half-deaf with your vision flashing with white, trying to make peace with the reality that Venom was going to fuck you until you passed out.

[cyberjam]

ATSV HEADCANON: they have a crush on you . . . ☆

warnings - none really, super fluffy and adorable :), semi-proof read so i apologize for grammatical errors if there are any! no use of name or y/n, gender-neutral reader!

word count - 2.1k

main masterlist <3

☆ . . . miles morales

I imagine you two already being well-acquainted friends with each other once he realized his feelings for you. For quite some time he had a crush on gwen but now his heart strings are pulling him towards you, so he's struggling when it comes to addressing his feelings.

If you're in the same room as Miles, he will stare. Any conversation that he was having before is long forgotten and all that's on his mind is you.

Miles doesn't need to study, he's one of the top students in school. But he continues to go on study dates with you because he likes being in your presence and sharing his headphones with you while eating yummy pastries.

He has an entire journal dedicated to you. Said journal includes: small journal entries of his day with you, little quotes of the funny/cute things you've said that stuck with him throughout the day, candid drawings of you that he created whenever you two hung out, cute sketches of you and him stargazing or slow-dancing together (and other secret drawings of him saving you as spider-man and cradling your body in his big strong arms but we won't get into that...)

Miles really can't get enough of you. He laughs extra loud at your jokes even if they aren't funny, his heartbeat quickens at the mention of your name, he'll offer you his jacket even if you don't need it, he always smiles when something reminds him of you, he'll share his headphones with you and shyly ask if you and him can make a "study playlist" (he listens to it at night while drawing you), and overall is just madly in love with you.

He wants to be with you more than anything, he's just struggling to find the right time to ask you. <3

"Hey, don't touch that! It's- No! It's not a diary, it's just...secret."

☆ . . . gwen stacy

She's pretty awkward herself. You were assigned to be partners for a project that would play a big part in your final grade, she came off slightly cold and seemed to be annoyed at your presence which made your relationship start off rocky. In reality she was just stressed, juggling her spider duties, getting kicked out of her house, and then school on top of that, it was just a lot. But when you made the effort to plan things and work around her busy schedule (that you didn't really know anything about) she started to become grateful for you.

Your parents welcomed her kindly each time she came over to study and whenever she would leave she was happy with a full belly and a sore face from smiling and laughing with you all night. The project was supposed to be done by the end of the semester but you and gwen were able to finish it the first month you got it. That didn't stop her bi-weekly visits, that then turned weekly, until she was suddenly walking home with you everyday, from and to school.

She likes to compare hands, shoes, and height just to see the difference in sizes. On walks back from school she'll give you a piggyback ride if you ask nicely. She also likes laying her head in your lap, if you run your fingers through her hair she'd be fast-asleep within 5 minutes.

You and her tend to share your oversized clothes together, You always wash her jackets/sweaters after you wear them, which she absolutely loves. She's fallen asleep curled up in your hoodie, inhaling the scent and listening to whatever song you rambled about the previous morning on repeat until she finally asks you to just make her a playlist. Hobie definitely knows about you, only because she slipped up by saying too much.

She enjoys staying over your house during rainy days. She tends to tense up whenever you're watching tv together on your bed and your head falls on her shoulder. During missions in other spider-verses gwen has taken little souvenirs from different worlds and given them to you, she always does it in a nonchalant way as if she wasn't grinning ear to ear on her way back, excited to see how you'd react.

You don't have sleepovers often but when you do they always seem more intimate than your usual hangouts. When you wake up and see gwen flustered on the other side of the bed you never understand why, not knowing that when you were fast asleep she woke up cuddled into you, nuzzling her body into yours.

"I-uhm. I-uh just had a weird dream. Nothing to worry about, heh.."

☆ . . . pavitr prabhakar

It's very obvious he has a crush on you, it might as well be written on his forehead. He follows you around like a lost puppy. He's constantly offering to carry your books, opening doors for you, paying for your snacks, and even giving you hand massages when you've been writing an essay for too long. He's just completely whipped for you and you're not even dating (yet).

You were a transfer student and he was assigned to show you around Mumbai. He found himself getting giddy at your cute reactions to the different sights he took you to. He adored how you were filled with so much curiosity and wonder, the awestruck look in your eyes when you saw the pretty lights at night and just how genuinely excited you seemed to stay and explore Mumbai. Since then, he's been glued to your side.

He's such a gentleman, you can tell he was raised right. Whenever you're talking his full attention is on you, nobody else matters in this moment but you. He'll even get a bit upset if someone cuts you off, ignoring whatever they're saying and urging you to continue. His legs feel wobbly around you, he gets dizzy at the sight of you, and he feels like he's floating whenever you smile at him.

There have been multiple occasions where you've caught him staring at you, depending on how he feels that day he'll either smirk and gently wave or quickly turn away with a blush on his face. He gushes about you to Hobie and Miles all of the time. They know so much about you and they've never even met you.

A true romantic. He buys you a singular flower one week out of the day, always explaining the meaning and where they originate from. (all of them are a variation of romance/love)

He tends to lean into you whenever you speak. More than one person has pointed out that you both tend to mirror each other's actions. He's feigning for your touch more than anything, a simple brush of your shoulders and he's full on putty in your hands.

He won't outright confront you when he figures out you like him, instead he'll invite you on a nightly walk. Taking you up to a rooftop with a gorgeous view, and gently resting his jacket on your shoulders. You'll sit for a while enjoying the scenery before he turns to you and says...

"a person as beautiful as yourself shouldn't wander this world alone.."

☆ . . . hobie brown

What a nightmare. He is constantly teasing and flirting with you. Always doubling over in laughter when he sees you get all flustered and the words you so badly wanna spew at him get stuck in your throat.

I imagine you both to be spider-people, you're a little more stuck-up than he is which is why he likes to tease you so much. Little by little your reactions fueled something deeper in him. He no-longer found himself flirting with you because he liked seeing how aggravated he could get you but because that was his way of approaching you and saying all of the things he wanted to while being able to play it off as a joke.

Besides teasing you relentlessly, he can be really caring and attentive to you when he wants to be. If you're in the medic he'll stop by pretty often to make sure you're okay. The only reason you found out is because you woke up to him fast asleep next to your bedside, feet propped on your bed and his vest laid across his torso like a blanket.

He'll eat the foods on your plate that you don't like. If you fall asleep he'll lay his vest onto your body and even move your position if it looks uncomfortable. If he senses danger before you he'll move you of the way as fast as he possibly can, but if he's not close enough he'll give you a heads up before anyone else. He tends to stare at you sometimes, always smiling gently to himself.

When you two get closer as friends he'll play any song on his guitar if you ask him nicely. He'll even give you lessons if you really want them. Carefully throwing his guitar over your torso, he brings his much larger hands to yours. You can feel his chest against your back, and the waves of his warm breath on your neck as he teaches you how to play. He'll also let you wear his jacket, saying it looks better on you than him. He might let you keep it, only in exchange for one of your jackets. (he sleeps with your jacket on, it makes him feel close to you.)

Hobie often checks up on you during missions, sometimes saying teasing phrases to get you riled up but mostly to make sure you're holding up okay. "you alright there, peaches? you took quite the hit."

Once he finds out you like him, he eases up on the teasing, but he doesn't refrain from dropping subtle hints of his knowingness that you like him. He's just waiting for you to finally say something.

"Yknow, if i ain't know any better i'd say you were doing this 'cause you like me."

☆ . . . miguel o' hara

You worked beside him in Alchemax, the two of you were assigned as partners. At first he didn't care much for you, simply telling you to stay out of his way and that he didn't need any help, but after Lyla practically forced him to be a cordial lab partner and work with you, he started to take a liking towards you. Sadly, it took months for him to tolerate you and even longer for him to like you.

Although he was quite stuck-up and practically seemed on edge most of the time, you were able to break through those confined walls and have a comfortable-playful work relationship with him. Every-time you made a joke or a light quip about his attitude he'd always respond with sarcasm, still not being able to hide the tiny smile that graced his face at your foolish acts.

He always runs his projects by you before submitting them. (and then lyla to triple check) He'll stop by and pick up empanadas from his favorite store, always boasting about how it's the best in Nueva York and you'll never taste anything better. Eventually he brings in a hefty share of empanadas that you two share over lunch time, your conversation flowing naturally without the teasing but with a fluffier feeling flowing through the air.

He pretends to be annoyed when he catches you over-working but he's genuinely worried for you. Always shaking his head in a disapproving way when he finds you fast asleep on your desk, papers scattered, and drool falling past your lips. Quietly scolding you in spanish before throwing his lab coat over your shoulders and organizing your papers neatly.

He tends to act unbothered when you do something that shows you care for him but in reality it makes his heart stutter and his stomach feel all loopy. He hates it because it makes him feel like a middle-schooler when they get their first crush but another part of him absolutely adores it and his main motivation to get up to go to work in the morning is you, although he'll never admit it.

If a co-worker is ever rude to you he will be the first to defend you, not hesitating to get in their face with a nasty scowl painting his features. On Friday's he made it his personal mission to walk you home, you two slowly walk side-by-side, quietly laughing to yourselves as you reminisce on lab accidents and old memories. There's a slight gleam in his eyes when you make it to your apartment door. He turns to you almost hesitantly, before stepping closer to you. He whispers a question, so quiet and soft you almost wouldn't be able to hear it.

"Can I kiss you?"

omg i hope you guys liked it! requests are still open btw and thank you for reading! <3

likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated <33

[incognit0slut]

Tempting the Cowboy

Summary: The team has been trying to bring Spencer back to the BAU after he hung up his badge to live on his ranch peacefully. It’s a good thing you’ll do whatever it takes to persuade him, even if the rugged cowboy wants to bend you over in the barn.

warnings: (MDNI, 18+) softdom spence, nipple play, handjob, fingering, female and male oral, semi-public sex

word count: 6k (i had too much fun, okay?)

a/n: This is such a random plot. Cowboy spence seemed so impossible, but then again, so did prison reid and look what happened.

Never in a million years would you ever have thought that a certified genius with an IQ of 187, after fifteen years of dedicated service to the FBI, would change career paths and settle down in the countryside. Yet here you were, driving to the middle of nowhere, trying to find that man.

The GPS led you down dusty backroads, past fields of golden wheat and weathered barns until finally, you arrived at his ranch. The scent of hay and the distant sound of cattle filled the air as you stepped out of the car and you couldn't help but feel out of place.

Your usual black pants and fitted blouse seemed like a striking contrast to your surroundings, especially with the sleek boots on your feet. Adjusting your shirt, you finally approached the farmhouse, the gravel crunch beneath your feet echoed with every step you took.

A group of men caught your eyes as they emerged from a weathered barn at the end of the road, and you found yourself approaching them instead. Clearing your throat, you called out to them.

"Excuse me, gentlemen," you began, "I'm looking for Spencer Reid. Is he around?"

The men exchanged knowing glances before one of them, a weathered cowboy with a straw hat shading his face, spoke up.

"You must be lookin' for the doc," he said, nodding towards the stable. "He's over there tendin' to the horses. You can't miss 'im."

With a grateful nod, you followed their directions. Nerves fluttered in your stomach as you walked into the stable, unsure of what to expect from the man who had once been your colleague but now seemed like a stranger in this unfamiliar setting.

As you pushed open the creaking door, the scent of leather and hay washed over you. Inside, you finally spotted him, his back turned as he tended to a horse in the corner of the room. His familiar profile was a stark contrast to the rugged surroundings, and for a moment, it felt surreal to see him in this new role.

Gone were the suits or knitted cardigans; instead, he was clad in well-worn denim and leather that gave him a distinctly different, yet undeniably attractive appearance. His sleeves were rolled up, showcasing the definition in his arms and a cowboy hat was perched on his head, its brim casting a shadow over his features, while his tousled hair peeked out from beneath it.

It was a side of him you had never seen before—one that seemed more at peace, more connected to the land than the city. And as you watched him work, the soft murmur of his voice filling the room as he spoke soothingly to the horse he was gently brushing, you couldn't help but feel a tinge of guilt knowing you were going to ruin his peace.

As if sensing another presence in the room, he suddenly turned his head before his gaze fell on you. A genuine smile curled at the corner of your lips as you approached him. "Howdy, cowboy."

A hint of surprise flashed in his eyes as he straightened himself, which was quickly replaced with realization at your sudden visit.

"I was wondering when they'd send you here," he remarked, his tone a mixture of amusement and resignation. You returned his smile, the tension in your shoulders easing slightly at his familiar demeanor.

"I guess today is your lucky day." Your eyes scanned the rustic surroundings of his ranch, taking in the simplicity of his new life. "Well, this is quite the change of scenery."

He chuckled softly, a hint of pride in his tone as he gestured around the farmhouse. "It's definitely a far cry from the city," he admitted. "But it suits me."

"It does seem like you've found your place here. It's... different, but in a good way."

Spencer's smile widened at your words "It is different, and I like it here," he agreed. "Which is why I'm going to say no to whatever reason you're here."

You raised an eyebrow. "I haven't even said anything."

"You didn't have to, everyone else has already said their piece." He turned and focused his attention back on his horse. "And the answer is still no."

You silently studied him as he finished his task. He was right; your other teammates had already been here before you, trying to coax him back to the BAU. But you couldn't help but feel a sense of determination rise within you. Spencer Reid might be a stubborn cowboy now, but you knew deep down that his brilliant mind belonged with the team.

But knowing no one else could crack his stubbornness, you knew you needed a different approach and the only way you could think of was to reel him in with his current interest. "He's beautiful," you acknowledged, nodding towards the horse he was working on. "What's his name?"

"She's beautiful," he corrected. "And her name is Mildred."

The name didn't sound foreign to you. "You must really have something sentimental with that name. Didn't you name one of your mugs Mildred?"

He tipped his head back. "You remembered?"

"Of course, I do," you replied with a grin. "I remember a lot about you, even if we didn't have much time getting to know each other."

The memories of your time at the BAU flooded back. The way you joined the team right before Spencer had decided to take a break, which had turned out to be more permanent than anyone had anticipated. Although it was hard to forget a guy like him. You remembered when your eyes first fell on him and how your heart fluttered at his awkward yet charming smile.

There was something about him, something magnetic and intriguing that drew you in from the very beginning. It was a pity he had to leave shortly after you joined the team because you swore your admiration wasn't one-sided, but with Spencer gone, any hope of exploring those feelings had faded away.

As you stood before him now, you couldn't help but study how different he was yet still managed to look the same. The rugged cowboy attire he now wore seemed worlds away from the suit and tie he had once donned as a profiler, yet there was a familiarity to his features that remained unchanged.

But one thing was for sure, despite the time and distance of not seeing him, you were still attracted to Spencer Reid.

"I remember a lot about you too."

You laughed. "That's because you have an eidetic memory." Spencer simply flashed you a sheepish grin, his eyes crinkling at the corners. You slowly took a step forward towards him. "Can I touch her?"

He nodded, gesturing towards Mildred. "Go ahead. She's quite friendly."

You approached the horse cautiously, extending your hand to stroke her mane gently. Mildred nuzzled against your palm, her warm breath tickling your skin. A sense of calm washed over you as you felt the gentle rhythm of her breathing.

Spencer watched you with a soft smile, his gaze warm and reassuring. "She likes you," he remarked, his voice low and soothing.

You smiled back. "I like her too," you replied, your fingers trailing along Mildred's soft fur. Then your eyes glanced over to him and the gears in your head started to move. You needed to act as stealthy as possible. "So... how fast can horses go? In general?"

His smile widened at your question. "Well, it depends on various factors like breed, training, and terrain," he began, falling into his familiar role as an educator. "On average, horses can reach speeds of around 25 to 30 miles per hour, but some breeds can go even faster, reaching speeds of up to 40 miles per hour."

You nodded, absorbing the information as you continued stroking Mildred's fur while keeping your true intentions hidden behind a facade of innocent curiosity. "Are mammals usually that fast?"

"Actually, yes," he replied. "While horses are known for their impressive speed, they're not the only mammals capable of reaching high velocities."

"...how about bulls?"

Spencer raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued by your sudden interest in bulls. "Bulls?" he echoed, studying you intently.

You met his gaze, trying to appear nonchalant. "Yeah, bulls."

He continued to scrutinize you, his sharp intellect picking up on your evasive behavior. Spencer may not work as a profiler anymore, but he could tell when someone had ulterior motives.

"Alright, what is it?" he finally asked, crossing his arms.

You sighed, trying not to focus on the way his arms flexed at the movement, and took another step towards him. If you were going to convince him to return to the BAU, you needed to be honest with him. "Well, you see, the current case we're working on is... it's a bit unusual."

Spencer's curiosity was piqued, his interest evident in how he leaned in slightly, waiting for you to continue.

"Three victims were found dead under suspicious circumstances," you explained, choosing your words carefully. "The strange part is, all three victims were found with injuries consistent with being trampled by bulls."

"Trampled by bulls?" he repeated, disbelief coloring his voice.

"It sounds bizarre, I know. There have been reports of aggressive behavior from a nearby ranch, and the local authorities suspect that the deaths may be connected to the bulls on the property. But the thing is, the autopsies showed that it might not even be caused by any type of animal."

"And you want me to help with the investigation," he summarized.

"We could certainly use your help," you admitted, hoping that he would see the significance of his involvement.

Spencer fell silent for a moment, his gaze distant as he considered your words. Then, without saying another word, he turned on his heels and began to walk towards another part of the stable, a hidden corner shrouded in shadows. Your heart sank as you watched him move away.

"I don't think I'm the person you should be looking for."

You followed him, determined not to let him slip away without a fight. "You're exactly the person we should be looking for! With that smart brain of yours and your knowledge of farm animals, we could profile the Unsub in no time."

His steps faltered momentarily as your words reached him, but he didn't turn back to face you. Instead, he continued walking, his silhouette fading into the shadows of the stable.

"I appreciate the sentiment," he called back over his shoulder, his voice tinged with resignation, "But I'm not sure I'm the right fit for this anymore."

"Reid," you called after him, quickening your pace to catch up. "Please, just hear me out."

"Y/n," he warned dangerously low. The way he spoke your name affected you more than you'd like to admit. You cautiously took a step forward.

"Do you know how long it took me to do a geographical profile of the crime scenes? Or how Alvez spent two nights going through stacks of documents when you would've finished it in like an hour?" You let out a sigh. "It's so different without you, we miss you."

He slightly faltered at your words again but remained quiet, so you tried again.

"We could really use your help, Spence, at least on this case. The team needs you." You watched him try to do some other task as if trying to ignore you. "I need you."

He remained silent for a moment longer, the only sound the soft shuffle of his boots against the stable floor. Then, slowly, he turned to face you, and there was a subtle shift in his expression, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes.

"...you need me?"

You faltered for a moment, taken aback by his unexpected question. The room seemed to shrink around you, the walls closing in as you became hyper-aware of the proximity between the two of you. Your gaze involuntarily flickered over every detail of his face, taking in the curve of his stubble jaw, the flecks of gold in his brown eyes, and the lines etched on his brow.

You also noticed his lips. Those damn kissable lips, pressed together in a thin line as he waited for your response. You found yourself inexplicably drawn to them, a surge of desire coursing through you at the mere thought of what it would feel like to press your own against them.

Shaking yourself from your inappropriate thoughts, you forced your gaze back to his eyes, feeling your cheeks flush with embarrassment at where your mind had wandered. You swallowed hard, feeling a lump form in your throat.

"Yes," you finally replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "I-I need you."

As the words left your lips, a heavy silence fell upon the room. You could feel his eyes on you, his gaze intense and searching, as if he were trying to interpret the depth of your confession. For a moment, neither of you spoke, and you could hear the sound of your heartbeat echoing in your ears, the rhythm erratic and unsteady.

"And you missed me?"

You held his gaze. While your words might not have been an outright confession, it wasn't exactly a lie, and there was no reason to deny the truth.

"I missed you," you admitted, your voice sounding more breathless than you intended. He smiled. Then, slowly, he reached out, his fingers gently brushing against your cheek. His touch sent a shiver down your spine, the warmth of it searing through you like a flame.

"Fine, I'll help you," he whispered, his voice barely audible in the stillness of the room. "On one condition."

Your heart skipped a beat, anticipation coursing through your veins as you waited for him to continue. His gaze held yours, unwavering and intense. You could feel the weight of his scrutiny, from your wide eyes to the slope of your nose, before lingering on your lips. For a moment, there was silence, broken only by the sound of your shallow breaths. Then he finally spoke.

"Be honest with me," he responded, his fingers tracing a gentle path along your jawline, "Do you need my help with the case or do you need me for something else?"

You met his gaze, searching for the right words to express the truth of your intentions. "Both," you admitted after a pause, your voice barely above a whisper. "I need your help with the case, but I also... need you."

A satisfied smile curled on his lips as he gently cupped your cheek, pulling you closer. But just as you thought he would close the distance between your lips, he paused, his warm breath teasing against your skin. His next question hung in the air between you, a challenge and an invitation wrapped into one.

"Tell me what you need me for then."

Your breath caught in your throat as his lips hovered tantalizingly close to yours. "I-I need you to kiss me," you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper, your words tinged with urgency and desire. "Please."

His gaze darkened. "I never took you as one to beg," he remarked, his voice laced with a hint of amusement. "But I must admit, I quite like it."

Then slowly, almost hesitantly, he closed the remaining distance between you, his lips brushing against yours in a feather-light touch. You could still feel the smile playing on his lips, but only briefly before he moved them slowly, capturing every curve of your soft lips.

He swiped his tongue along your bottom lip, holding your jaw in place. His hand cradled your face, holding you gently but firmly, while his other hand explored your body. It trailed down your back, sending shivers of anticipation coursing through you, before settling on your hip. You gasped at the sudden contact and he seized the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue delving deeper.

With a boldness that surprised even yourself, you wrapped your hands around his neck, pulling him closer. Your fingers tangled in his hair, knocking off his hat onto the floor before tugging lightly at the roots, eliciting a low moan from him that vibrated against your lips.

What had started as gently molding your lips together turned into a passionate dance of tongues, leaving you moaning and breathless. He slowly pulled away, his eyes slamming shut as his forehead met yours, both of you gasping for air while you tried to regain your composure. His breath mingled with yours, a heady mix of desire and need, as he spoke in a ragged voice.

"You," he gasped, his words laced with raw intensity, "Taste better than I imagined."

Your head was spinning. How could he consume you with just a kiss? You had dreamed of this moment, of being close to him, but you never imagined it would affect you as deeply as it did now.

"Do you even realize," He pressed on, his voice low with pent-up longing. "How much I've wanted to do this?"

Your head was swimming in a haze of desire as his lips trailed along your jawline, sending shivers down your spine. "Yeah?" you breathed out, barely able to form coherent thoughts.

He nodded against your neck. "Ever since I saw you."

"Wh-Why didn't you say anything?" you managed to stammer out, the words barely audible amidst the dizzying sensation of his lips on your skin.

"Wasn't sure you felt the same way."

You took a moment to process his words, the warmth of his breath against your skin adding to the whirlwind of sensations coursing through you. "You should've said something, it would make this whole convincing you a lot easier."

He paused, his lips leaving a trail of soft kisses along your neck. "I don't know," he finally murmured. "I think I need a little more persuading."

His words sent a jolt of desire coursing through you, igniting a fire that burned hotter with each passing moment. You swallowed hard, trying to gather your thoughts amidst the intoxicating sensation of his lips on your skin.

"I can persuade you in other ways."

Spencer lifted his head, his gaze meeting yours. "Then show me," he breathed, his voice thick with desire.

There was no room for hesitation. You leaned in, capturing his lips with yours in a desperate, passionate kiss, fully aware of the risk of being caught, but his mouth on your body felt too good to care. It wasn't like you hadn't fantasized about this exact moment, about the feel of his mouth on your body, the way his hands would explore every inch of you with a hunger that mirrored your own.

His hands found your hips, pushing you to the nearest wall before his fingers fumbled with the buttons on your blouse. It was clear you both decided that the risk was well worth the wait.

"May I?" He asked, his fingers still working on your front buttons.

You laughed amusedly. "You already are."

His response was a chuckle of his own before he buried his head in your neck again. The opening in the front of your shirt chilled your body, sending goosebumps all along your skin as his hands caressed over your lacy, black bra covering your breasts, thumbing your hardened nipples.

He leaned further down, trailing his lips over your cleavage, before sucking softly on the spot. The sensation made you gasp, knowing well enough that there would be marks left behind, but you didn't care. Wanting to give more to him, you reached out between your bodies and pulled down your bra, granting him more access to your skin.

His eyes drank in the sight before him hungrily. He gently rubbed against the small pebbles on your chest, wetting his lips as he did, eyes completely trained on them now. Without warning he surged forward, tongue darting out to lick a long, flat stripe against one of your nipples. You let out a surprised moan at the action, fingers tugging at his hair tightly and head tilting back before snapping down to look at him.

A choked moan left your lips as he continued sucking, licking, twirling his tongue around it while playing with the other with his hand. "Spence..." you whined, your voice sounding clear in the room.

"Shh," he mumbled against your skin. "Keep your voice down."

You nodded helplessly as he released your nipple before wrapping his lips around the other one, giving the same attention. He repeated the motion, rolling your wet nipple under his calloused palm, having you arch your back and push your chest into his face. He didn't have to be told twice, immediately giving it a hard suck while pinching the other one.

The sensation traveled along your body before it lowered between your thighs, forming an ache the second his hand trailed down your stomach. His fingers finally found the hem of your pants, before dipping underneath the material, slipping right underneath your panties. Your breath hitched when two of his long fingers slide between your folds, spreading your slick before finding its rightful place on your clit.

"You're so wet," he whispered in a daze, trailing his lips back up your collarbone. He couldn't believe how drenched you already were. "All this for me?"

You nodded, gasping when he stroked up and down your folds, coating his fingers with your arousal. Your hips buckled against his touch and he didn't hesitate when he started rubbing your clit, feeling your body writhe under him. A sudden pressure of his fingers sent pleasure shooting through you, and your head fell back to the wall, mouth agape, face flushed.

But before you could relish the pleasure, he suddenly pulled his hand out of your pants before tugging you, urging you to follow him. As he led you deeper into the stable, your heart raced with anticipation. You followed him silently, feeling a rush of excitement as he pulled you behind the stacks of hay, sheltering the two of you from prying eyes.

The rustling of the hay beneath you echoed in the room as he pulled you closer, his touch igniting a fire within you as you pressed your hands on his chest. With trembling hands, you began to undo the buttons of his shirt, and his gaze never left yours, his breath coming in shallow gasps.

As your fingertips brushed along his skin, you felt the warmth radiating from his body, his chest rising and falling with each breath. He wasn't muscular in the conventional sense, but there was a lean strength to him that was undeniably attractive. Your fingers continued their journey downward, skimming lightly over the softness of his stomach before teasing along the line of hair that trailed further down.

Your hands found their way to the buckle of his belt, fingers deftly working to undo it. He made no move to stop you as his gaze remained fixed on you. There was a hunger in his eyes, urging you for more, yet he remained patient, allowing you to take the lead. And then you tugged down his denim, not much than an inch but enough for you to pull his cock out.

He was warm and achingly hard, and a low, guttural sound escaped his lips as his hips bucked into your palm. His eyes fluttered closed momentarily, a shudder passing through him as he surrendered to the sensation. You looked up at him through your lashes, the corner of your lips quirked up in a smirk.

"Shh," you whispered, echoing his words. "Keep your voice down."

He chuckled softly, eyes meeting yours. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"Not as much as you are."

You proved your point by tugging his cock harder, pumping up and down his length. His head fell back, his breath coming out in ragged gasps as he fought to stifle his moans. You couldn't help but find it endearing, the way he struggled to keep quiet, his brows creasing in concentration. It was a pity, really, because you liked hearing the raw, unfiltered sounds of his pleasure.

You swiped your thumb along the tip of his cock, gathering the slickness before rubbing it along his length. His head snapped down to look between you, his eyes taking in the way you quickened your pace, pumping him in your hand. A sense of urgency overwhelmed him the moment your tongue darted out to wet your bottom lip, and he leaned in, shoving his own tongue into your mouth.

The way your fingers gripped his cock had him moaning into the kiss which you happily accepted. As he felt that familiar knot tightening in his stomach, he knew he had to act quickly. With a gasp, he pulled away from the kiss, his chest heaving with ragged breaths as he reached between you to halt your movements. With a sense of urgency, he shrugged off his shirt and laid it carefully on the stack of hay behind you.

"Turn around," was all he said as he pushed down his pants to uncover himself, leaving you empty for the moment.

You obliged, turning while gripping the hem of your pants and slipping them down your legs. Without hesitation, you pushed your panties down before kicking them off, giving him the perfect view of your soaked slit. It didn't take long for him to drop onto the floor, his hands running along the back of your thighs.

"Look at you." He leaned closer, his breath brushing your damp skin. "Aren't you a pretty little thing?"

You leaned forward and arched your back at his words, earning a deep, low sound of approval from him. One of his hands gripped your ass, slowly kneading your supple skin as his other hand grabbed onto your right leg, hiking it over the stack of hay. He had a better view of your wetness in this position, and you bit down your lips when you felt his fingers brush over your entrance.

A finger slipped inside you, then two, and when he started to pump them in and out of your tight walls, you pressed yourself further onto the stack of hay underneath you, trying to hold yourself back from making too much noise. Your arousal dripped from your core to coat his fingers and he was mesmerized by how eager your body was for him, how your hips rocked back against his hand.

But you needed more. His touch, his warmth, his presence—it wasn't enough. Your body ached for him, every nerve alive with desire.

"Please..." you breathlessly begged him, wanting to feel him inside of you, wanting him to rid your body of the tension, of the ache between your legs. Your jaw slacked open when you felt his mouth press against your clit before giving a slight suck.

"Tell me what you need," he ordered, breath deep and raspy and strained against your wet skin. He sucked onto your aching nub once again as his fingers continued to pump in and out of you. "And I'll give it to you."

"Please," you gasped, overwhelmed with the sudden force of his fingers and tongue between your legs and the pleasure that coursed through your body. "I w-want to f-feel you."

He pulled his fingers from within you, but his mouth was still exploring the wetness of your skin. His eager tongue worked wonders against your pussy, drawing out every second of pleasure as your hips rolled against his mouth. A whimper slipped from your lips as his tongue worked on your clit faster and you found yourself unable to contain yourself any longer.

"S-Spence..." You whined, not caring how desperate you sounded. All that mattered was your need for him. "Please..."

He placed a kiss on your swollen clit. "Be specific, baby, tell me what you need."

His endearment sent shivers down your spine, and you felt yourself spiraling further. Without hesitation, you begged shamelessly, "I-I want to feel y-your cock."

A low groan fell through his lips as he got off the floor, positioning himself behind you. "Say more words like that and I may lose the hint of self-control I have."

"I just—I just need you to fuck me," you didn't recognize the choke in your voice when you whined again.

He had no intention of protesting as he slipped between your legs, finally allowing you to feel just how hard you made him. For a moment, he pushed his hips toward you, grinding his cock against your folds, feeling your arousal soak his flesh.

"Is this what you wanted?" His hand gripped his cock to ease the tip over your entrance, pushing into you slowly, gasping when your walls clenched around him eagerly.

"Fuck, yes," was all you could manage to whimper, eyes screwing shut as he filled you up. And when you could barely stand anymore, becoming a quivering mess beneath him, he finally thrust deeper, pushing his hips against your body, earning a gasp with your mouth falling open.

"Oh my god." You could barely speak, barely form words, or even think as he pressed a hand to on your lower back, holding you in place as he dragged his cock out of you, only to ram himself back inside.

"Harder," you begged him, so breathless once again, "F-Faster."

He listened to you; he listened to the way your body moved against him, the way your walls tightened around his length. The way you stifled a moan and curse and huff anytime he thrust just right to have you pushing your hips back to him, your body trembling, shaking, and your legs nearly giving out because the pleasure became too much to bear.

"D-Don't stop." You had no shame in begging him. Not when he could make you feel so good, not when he was holding onto your hips as he continued to thrust into your dripping cunt.

"That's it," he encouraged, hips beginning to fall into a steady rhythm. "Tell me how good it feels. Beg me not to stop."

"So-so good," you babbled. "Don't—don't fucking stop."

He obliged your words by pushing apart your legs even further. Your face twisted in pleasure, so sensitive and overwhelmed as his hips smacked against your ass and he thrust himself harder into you. Sweat began to bead against his forehead once he pumped his cock into you harder, faster, earning every little whimper, even the ones you lacked the strength to release.

Thoughts of getting caught, of knowing anyone could walk in when he was buried deep inside you, left both of your minds. Neither of you cared when you were so wrapped up in one another. Not when you hiked your leg higher, allowing his cock to hit the spot that had you quivering in his hold when he slammed into you again.

Then he suddenly released his grip on your hips, slipping a hand between the two of you to press his fingers to your clit. The sudden increase in pleasure had you gasping in pure bliss. The room began to spin, air rushing to your head and the harder he fucked you, the deeper he thrust, and the faster his fingers rubbed against your clit, you knew you wouldn't be able to hold your sanity any longer.

He sensed your desperation in the way you gasped his name over and over again, and he thrust into you with more force than before. You tightened around him, squeezing him so damn hard he was tempted to lose all control right then, but he persisted in bringing your pleasure first. The sloppy sounds of your arousal coating his flesh filled the room, and with one, final thrust, you gasped before the pleasure finally consumed you.

He abruptly released your clit as he took hold of your hips again, keeping you in place while ruthlessly thrusting in and out through your bliss. His fingers pressed harder, drawing out every breathless moan, every strained whimper, every gasp of his name until your body grew too weak.

But he was far from done, slowing his hips to hit deep within your walls with aggressive thrusts, bringing his own high closer and closer as you whined from the overwhelming sensation, too sensitive, too far gone to handle much more, shuddering with every push of his cock within you.

"Where—" he groaned, your slick cunt too much for him, your juices drenching along his pelvis. "I'm close—"

You managed to snap your head over your shoulders. "Pull out, pull out."

You watched through fluttering lids as he gripped himself in his hand, and with trembling legs, you kneeled before him, gripped his cock in your hand, and took him fully in your mouth. He gritted his teeth at the sensation, sucking a breath in through his teeth as he felt your tongue dragging along his length.

You pushed further, hollowing your cheeks as you continued to swallow him down until the tip of his cock finally reached the back of your throat, nose pressed against his pelvis. He tipped his head back as you started to suck him, gagging around him when you felt him thrust his hips into you.

His eyes flicked down again at the sound only to find you looking up at him through your lashes. Spencer sucked in a sharp breath, before cradling your soft cheeks in both his large hands, and began thrusting his cock in and out of your mouth. Obscene noises filled the room as he continued to use you, tears welling at your lids and saliva building at your lips, seeping down your chin.

He continued to pump himself into your mouth, slowly starting to lose control, getting so lost in how warm your lips were wrapped around him. His jaw fell open as he released a final groan, brows creasing and eyes screwed shut, thrusting so deep before the first shot of his release filled your mouth.

Then a few more shots followed and you swallowed every drop down your throat as he continued to look at you in wonder. His breath was punching out of his chest in ragged, overwhelmed gasps, sweat glittering at his temples while he silently groaned through the pleasure.

His head dipped low as you dragged your tongue up his length for the last time, from the base of his cock to the tip, and you finally licked him clean. A few moments of catching your breaths passed before he gently pulled you back to your feet.

As you both quickly fixed your clothes and adjusted your hair, he retrieved his cowboy hat from where it had been discarded on the floor, placing it back on his head with a grin. Then, without hesitation, he drew you close, his lips peppering your face with sweet, tender kisses.

You laughed at his sudden affection. "What's all this for?" you asked, smiling up at him.

"I feel obligated after... all of that," he confessed, his lips brushing softly against yours before he withdrew slightly. "You're amazing."

Your smile widened at his words, a soft warmth blooming in your chest. "And you're not so bad yourself," you replied teasingly, wrapping your arms around his neck. "So, was that enough to convince you to come back?"

"Almost," he murmured, his voice low and filled with warmth. "I think I need a bit more convincing."

You quirked an eyebrow. "I don't think I have it in me for round two."

"No, not that," he said with a laugh. His hand slid down to rest on your lower back, drawing you closer to him. "Have dinner with me tonight and I'll come by the office tomorrow."

You smiled up at him, a flutter of excitement dancing in your chest as you took in every detail of his rugged features—the subtle crinkle in the corner of his eyes, the hint of stubble along his jawline, and the warmth of his brown eyes that seemed to shine brighter in the light.

Your gaze lingered on his cowboy hat, and with a mischievous grin, you reached out to grab it, placing it atop your own head.

"Then you've got yourself a deal, cowboy."

[heartss4val]

𐑺 ˖ ࣪ ࿐ྂ I WANNA BE YOURS | percy jackson x gn!reader

percy jackson looks at you like you were the one who put the stars in the sky.

the son of poseidon gazes at you with so much awe and admiration in his eyes that most people would think you had just defeated a minotaur with your bare hands, or cured cancer or saved the world from total destruction, something that would be remembered for centuries to come. but in reality, all you did was toss a few nuts to the squirrels that scurried around camp. percy jackson looks at you in such a way that even aphrodite herself would point and squeal.

though, he'd never admit to that. the only telltale sign of his infatuation is the rosy tint that creeps up the tips of his ears every time you you pass by, and his lips that struggle to stay in a straight line whenever you flash him that smile—the one that makes his heart leap up and into his throat. even after four years of friendship, percy still hasn't figured out how to sit next to you and not be totally in love with everything you do.

it's as though you have some sort of magic power over him—a power that he's powerless to resist. and as much as he'd like to deny it, he secretly revels in the feeling.

but percy jackson would never confess his desires for you—not when kronos is still actively seeking to wipe out the demigod population. he can't afford to display any signs of weakness.

but it's worth it, he thinks, to risk everything just to wrap his arms around you and plant a kiss on your lips that would set the world on fire. yet he knows he can't—not without endangering you. not without putting you in harm's way. so why is it so unbearable to imagine life without you, when you were never really his to begin with?

and in those moments, when his mind is consumed with thoughts of you, memories of your touch and your gaze playing on repeat in his mind, he's left thinking, 'did i imagine it?' did he dream up the way your touch lingered on his arm as you adjusted his armor? the way you looked at him across the dining pavilion before turning away, as if you'd been caught in the act of something secret and sweet? he must have, right? because you would never look at someone like him with such tenderness. not at someone hot-headed and impulsive, someone with so many rough edges. no, you couldn't have looked at him like that. it must all be in his head.

you couldn't have looked at him the same way he looks at you.

despite his best efforts to conceal it, percy's convinced that everyone can see right through him. he knows that everyone can see right through him. the teasing from his fellow campers has been relentless—nicknames hurled his way, each one more unflattering than the last. romeo, hopeless romantic, loverboy..

loverboy.

he's no loverboy. not some kind of lovesick puppy at the mercy of some unattainable crush. no, that nickname is only reserved for the truly whipped, those who are wrapped around someone's finger, glued to their side at all times. he's no..

and then his head snaps up at the sound of your voice, suddenly alert. and there you are, all dazzling and gorgeous, a beacon in a sea of identical orange t-shirts and jeans. you stand out as though a spotlight has been trained on you alone. which is weird because to most people you're just another camper. albeit, an incredibly beautiful camper, but still, just a camper. so why is he so infatuated with you, specifically?

maybe he is a loverboy.

the realization hits him like a ton of bricks, and he almost groans out loud. can't he just carve his heart out and be done with it at this point? isn't that what the poets do?

but since he never really cared for those dead old men taught in school, like edward allan poe or whatever his name was, he'll settle for just daydreaming now. he'll settle for stolen glances across the room and the brush of your hands as you reach for a book. he'll settle for relishing in your little touches and how your lips shine in blueberry chapstick until he's ready. he'll admire the curve of your nose and the triumphant hugs you give him after your team wins capture the flag. he'll settle for it until it's not enough anymore. he'll settle for it until he needs more.

[folkwhoredoll]

mutual frustrations - rafe cameron x fem!reader

pairing: rafe cameron x fem!reader

synopsis: keeping your temper and hormones in control is neither yours nor your boyfriend's strength

word count: 1.6k

warnings/tags: smut! (f masturbation, fingering, voyeurism/exhibitionism), slight dom!bf rafe

a/n: hi everyone! thank you so so much for everyone's support on my recent works. i hope you'll like this one. happy reading!

masterlist

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚

"What the hell is your problem, huh?"

Rafe had been frustrated all day. His dad had been yelling at him since early morning, Barry wouldn't stop calling him, and a brief fight with his sister for running off with her Pogue friends had pushed him to the edge. It didn't help that you had been snappy all day, either. It started with your short and sarcastic replies to his questions, and he grew tired of seeing your eyes roll and your deep sighs.

Truth be told, you weren't doing it on purpose. You were just craving his attention, and your frustration over his frequent disappearances to whatever business he had to attend to was carelessly reflected through your actions.

"Seriously! Where did this attitude come from?" he said, raising his voice slightly but not yelling.

"Well, I wouldn't have a problem if you just noticed me, Rafe!" You grumbled.

"Are you fucking joking? I have literally been talking to you, but you were the one who refused to answer me properly!" Rafe seethed.

"Oh, please. The first time that you acknowledged my presence was an hour ago. I have been here since morning!" You defended yourself, remembering how you initially went over to his place to bond with each other, but he was so preoccupied with his thoughts that he walked past you several times without realizing it.

Rafe inhaled deeply and closed his eyes. "You know what? Whatever. I've had a long day and don't need any of this right now."

Your face was starting to feel hot as you felt your anger grow. Suddenly, his huge bedroom felt small as your chest tightened. "That's it? You're going to push me away again? What the fuck am I to you, Rafe? Do I even mean anything to you?"

"You're pulling this shit right now?" He growled, brows furrowing as he looked at you with darkened eyes. "If you mean nothing to me, I wouldn't even look at you."

Rafe started to walk closer to you slowly, cornering you until the back of your knees hit the edge of his bed. His face lowered to your level, with a threatening look on his face.

"But guess what, princess? Here I am, still tolerating your goddamn bratty attitude." He said lowly.

You could feel his radiating anger, making you gulp as you think of whether or not you should still say something as words die at the back of your throat. Despite your own displeasure, your boyfriend's dangerous face made you gulp. And unsurprisingly, you liked it. You liked it so much that Rafe did not miss your subtle attempt to push your thighs together.

He chuckled darkly. "So that's your problem then, hm? You're fucking horny."

You felt your breath hitch, mouth open, as you quickly thought of an excuse. As expected, you came up with nothing, leading Rafe to shake his head in amusement.

"You could've just told me, baby. I'd drop anything to make you feel good." Upon hearing his words, your eyes lit up hopefully. You started to feel excited until Rafe walked beside you to sit on the bed, harshly pulling you towards him so you were entirely situated on his lap. "But you decided to act like a fucking brat instead, and I can't have that, can I?"

Your boyfriend hastily grabbed the back of your neck, pushing your face towards his to kiss you roughly before you could react. Rafe kissed you with passion, forcefully separating your lips with his tongue. You moaned against his lips, hips starting to grind against clothed crotch.

Unbeknownst to you, he was already plotting what he could do to punish you. And you only realized that after you felt his lips travel to your neck.

"More, Rafe. Please fuck me." You gasped upon feeling him slightly bite your skin.

"No." He replied bluntly, pulling away to meet your gaze with a smirk. "You really think I'm gonna fuck you after what you did?"

"W-what?" You asked, visibly confused.

"Oh, baby. You should've seen your punishment coming." He taunted, shifting your positions so that he was standing again and you were lying on the bed. "You won't be getting my dick tonight. If you wanna come, do it yourself."

Your mouth was open in shock as you processed his words, frustration building up again. "Are you kidding me? Fuck me."

"You're in no position to order me, darling. Make yourself come right now, or I'll extend your punishment for a week. We both know you can't go that long without my dick."

If you weren't horny, you would have slapped Rafe's smirk off of his face. But you were desperate; your hormones heightened after making out with him. You groaned, tilting your head back, figuring that making yourself cum without his cock is much better than not being able to cum at all.

"Go on, baby. Take off your clothes; I wanna watch."

Grunting, you briefly sat up to remove your clothes individually as Rafe stepped back to watch you. You kept eye contact with him as you took off your bra and underwear, smirking when you saw his eyes hungrily scan your hardening nipples down to your inner thighs.

 "You can touch me, Rafey." You attempted to persuade him with a sweet smile, but he knew better.

"Nice try, sweetheart. But you should know by now that that won't work for me. Now lay back and spread those legs."

You followed his instruction, positioning yourself so that you're laterally positioned on his bed. Rafe moved to his small couch across the room, observing your movements like a hawk.

"Like this?" You teased him, lifting your leg and spreading your thighs apart, giving him a perfect view of your plump breasts and wet slit.

Rafe could feel his cock growing harder and harder with each second. He wanted nothing more than to ruin you at that moment, your pussy tempting him to cum inside. But he prevented himself, knowing he had to let you know who was in control.

"Mhm. Now play with your tits. Don't stop until your nipples are hard." He said, watching as you slowly moved your hands up to massage your breasts. You moaned with each stroke, your thumb toying specifically with your nipples until they perk. "Good job, baby. Now remove one hand and touch your pussy. Don't insert a finger yet."

You followed again, one hand trailing down to your stomach until your fingertips touched your outer walls. You gasped loudly, turned on from your own wetness. "Rafey."

Rafe savored your moans, eyes not leaving your womanhood. "Spread your walls for me. I want to see that pretty cunt."

You obeyed, letting out a deep breath as you used two fingers to separate your walls, giving Rafe a fantastic view of your delicious cunt. "Want to come, Rafe? Please."

"You will. Just be patient, alright?" He cooed. "Insert one of your fingers."

You slowly push one finger into your pussy, having no difficulty in doing so because you're too soaked.

"Add another one. Go on, sweetheart. You know your spot." Rafe urged you, proud that you were doing so well for him. "Curl your fingers in. That's it."

"Fuck!" You screamed in sudden pleasure, letting Rafe know that you were able to find your G-spot. "Wish this were your fingers."

"I know, baby. I do, too, but you need to learn your lesson. Now make yourself come."

You whined upon hearing his words, pumping your fingers faster while continuing to massage your breasts. You were becoming desperate for a release, and Rafe's hungry smirk gave you enough motivation. If you couldn't have his dick, you would at least give him a proper show.

You were a moaning mess in front of him, and he loved every moment of it. Your continuous mumbles of his name increased his ego, knowing that you would never be able to satisfy yourself like he does.

The sound of your wetness as you fingered yourself was like music to his ears. And before he could think about what he was doing, he found himself in front of you, absentmindedly reaching forward to place his thumb on your clit.

"Oh!" You screamed upon contact, your hips slightly rising. Rafe couldn't avert his eyes from your pussy. He groaned at the sight of both of your fingers playing with your cunt, your walls visibly pulsating as you chased your own release.

"That's it. Be a good girl and come on my fingers."

"Yes, yes, yes." The exact words left your mouth as you felt your mind go blank, overwhelmed with nothing but pleasure. You continued to fuck yourself as Rafe toyed with your clit faster. "Fuck, Rafe. I'm going to cum."

"Go ahead, pretty girl. Give it to me." Rafe's cock was aching so much, and he felt like he was about to lose control. And he knew he did, when his mouth let out his most wanted thought. "Come for me. Come for me, and I'll give you my dick."

Hearing those words made something snap in you, making you release in an instant. You squirted around your fingers as he remained touching your clit, your thighs shaking from the orgasm that was taking over your body.

Rafe grunted at the scene. "Good job." He softly grabbed your fingers away from your pussy before wiping the sweat off of your forehead. "You did good, baby."

You were still catching your breath when you felt him kiss your forehead softly.

"Now I believe I owe you my cock?"

[weebsinstash]

Sitting here watching that clip of Valentino with that demon girl going "you're gorgeous! Do you need a job? 🥰" and started thinking of Val either intentionally or unintentionally making Reader feel massively insecure and ugly and Val using that to manipulate them

I've mentioned "oh what if your job is serving him drinks at his club" but what if he also starts dragging you along when he goes out like some kind of weird PA. Like he's just throwing random bills at you that he clearly isn't counting like it's pocket change in a very "yeah sure whatever just do it bitch" kind of way so you put up with it, it's good income, but it's still... WEIRD. He's going to get his antenna done at the salon, and you're like. Having to STAND THERE beside his chair, you're not even in the lobby waiting room, you've gotta be WITH HIM, and you just get all these windows into his cunty personality where he's spoiled and mean to service workers and is a total fucking diva and it's extremely off-putting I'm sure

He's in a night club hitting on people whose bodies are absolutely insane like I'm talking GYATT city, ass and titties, you've got twunks and you've got hunks, and you're like, in sneakers, off to the side, head down playing games on your phone since you can't even put earbuds in because you unfortunately have to keep an ear open since he'll order YOU to bring drinks, not just for him, but for these complete strangers who don't even work for him too, AND he'll let them be fucking mean to you. You bring some bubble butt twink who's on Val's arm the daiquiri he asked for and he gives you a very clear look up and down before laughing, cuddling up to Val, "yeah I can SEE you need new employees 😋" and they all laugh Including Fucking Valentino

I dunno, I'm on the fence. It really changes with the story. You get the yandere who are obsessive but more abusive-adjacent and then you have the more true-blooded kind that won't accept any slander of you at all. Like can you imagine Valentino's smile just dropping off his face because some chick like, tells you you have cellulite or even something MILD like your mascara is bad or idk what are, male insults.... you have a flat ass??? And Valentino just instantly shoves them away "okay you're done bye, let the door hit you on the way out 🤭"

But today we're talking about angst and feeling fucking miserable so. Over time it just, makes you feel so horrible about yourself to go to these nightclubs. It isn't even about fucking Valentino, it's about how you're sitting here watching everyone EXCEPT YOU receive all this fawning and compliments and attention, even if Val is faking some of it just to lure in more workers. You see a girl who has the perfect skin and you run fingers over an ice pick scar on your cheek, male reader sees a guy who's tall but muscular with nice facial hair and you feel your own baby face and smaller build, there are people thinner than you, curvier than you, stronger than you, smarter than you, and you watch all of them get called gorgeous and beautiful and handsome and sexy and you're just the fucking dweeb who gets teased, mocked, BULLIED

One night Valentino is sitting there talking to another girl, "oh my gosh, honey, I would TOTALLY do body shots off of you. Hey, can we get some shots over here? .... helllooooo, I SAID can we get some shots? ...bitch if you make me repeat myself again--" and he looks over and you're not even there. It's like ice. Suddenly without warning you're not there and he doesn't know what to do because you're ALWAYS there and whenever you're not it's because he LETS YOU leave??? Like??? He's immediately standing up even if it knocks away the people hanging off of him and he's looking around, "you BETTER be in the fucking bathroom--"

And over the crowd of people he sees you on the opposite end of the club, as if you were actively trying to put as much distance between you two as possible, and you're with a guy, some big furry monster boy, and you laugh with a big smile and Valentino GRINDS his teeth as he realizes it's been ages since you laughed around him, let alone at anything HE'S said, and you're actually drinking with this guy where you would always be way too stiff and cautious around Val (although he also really wouldn't let you drink anyways, being more of a waiter when you're 'on the clock')

Obsessed with the idea of Val making Reader carry around combs and brushes to comb his antenna/fur and Val sees you using them on another guy. like I think he'd go absolutely violently fucking crazy honestly because 1. Those are HIS and he is a bougie Gucci material man like those are high quality things being used on some RANDO 2. Those are for HIM, you're using them on someone ELSE 3. The person using them on someone else is YOU, YOU'RE brushing another man, YOU'RE cuddling another man like some kind of UNGRATEFUL WHORE--

When I say you suddenly look up and you're being GRABBED, HAULED UP to your feet by your arm, grip on you so tight it's ready to fucking bruise, and Val just shoots this guy in the head, like cartoonishly powerful gun just splatters the dudes head from what should have been just a single bullet hole I'm sure. You're like vaguely traumatized and trying to tell yourself the man will regenerate and be fine but now Valentino's got a gun in his hand and he's furious and you just start CRYING. He doesn't even CARE about the people he was flirting with anymore, if he has any employees in the club with him he doesn't even call out that it's time to go, he just starts DRAGGING YOU to the limo and will just LEAVE EVERYONE there because he's in such a rage, also, have you guys seen the posts where people point out there are moth squeaking effects when he speaks sometimes. So he's just fucking mad, voice cracking, shouting, squeaking, and i think it'd be funny if he spends like 15 minutes screaming about THE GUY while he has you like all but glued to his lap on the ride home and doesn't say a single thing about what you did. Just manic ranting on his phone as he HAS to call Vox, "oh my god you wouldn't FUCKING BELIEVE what this piece of shit did in front of me, the ugliest fucking guy I've ever seen was--" and you're like trembling wondering when he's going to pivot and realize like, you were also. Intentionally willingly sitting with that guy.

But he doesn't even like. Acknowledge it that way. He just keeps ranting about the guy touching something that doesn't belong to him, he's gotta replace all his fucking combs now, oh my GOD Vox like SERIOUSLY-- and then it's probably Vox that's like, with a disinterested voice, "sooooo.... WHICH whore did this happen to again???" And Valentino without hesitating just straight up says your name, "the nerdy one, you KNOW which one I'm talking about"

And that's when you just start to blubber cause you're tired and you're tipsy and you're mentally worn down, "oh OF COURSE I'm 'the nerdy one'!! You drag me all over the fucking place and I never get any time to myself and I have to WATCH everyone ELSE have fun, and when I finally find someone who calls ME cute, calls ME pretty, you fucking SHOOT HIM!" and you're just, face in your hands crying and you can't see it as Valentino GRINS like some fucking MONSTER because, "Aw, pobrecita, is that what this is about? You're lonely? ❤️w❤️"

And you're just mad and crying and pouting and you're telling him to go fuck himself and actually starting to get a little mouthy and have an attitude with him and he doesn't even care because how upset you're getting is going right to his head. even if you don't want to, you're jealous of him giving other people attention instead of you, and now he's watching you get all upset and sniffly over it and he's so full of himself, this makes him feel so powerful that he's reduced you to this insecure bawling state, and he's rubbing your shoulders, "awwww, don't cry mami, you should've told me you were wanting some 'attention'"

At this point you could be literally slapping his hands away but he's gonna keep pulling you close to him on purpose and NOW, now he's laying on all the fucking compliments, stroking the tops of your thighs. He knows exactly what scent you're using in your hair. Oh, you're wearing the nail polish you bought during one of your first months here; he's always liked this color on you. He's commenting and bringing up things you didn't expect him to notice let alone remember about you and... you're just so weak to it.... you're lonely... and he's here... and maybe it's the smoke or his cologne or what but he smells so good, he's so close, your head feels a little funny--

The rest of your night blurs together after that, but when you wake up, you're not at your place, or the studio, or anywhere you mildly recognize. You're in a bed way too big for someone your size, and you're especially not used to SOMEONE ELSE BEING IN IT WITH YOU. Val just has you caged in all of his arms and is passed out drooling in a post alcohol, post drug, post fuckathon coma, and you can FEEL in your muscles and in your body that you two were up to some wiiiiiild shit together.

IF you may manage to sneak out of V Tower without being stopped or caught, it won't make hin suddenly forget all the things you told him, or him now knowing how it feels to have your hands on his body, or how it looks to have your big sad wet eyes looking up at him and then sparkling with one of his compliments. Usually he WANTS bitches to be gone when he wakes up but, this time? When those eyes open and you're not there? Instantly feeling rejected, mad, irritated, he can't exactly identify why, he's just MAD you ran off without telling him and he's instantly blowing up your line to figure out where you are, and now you have become a recipient of The Voice-mails

"Heeeeeeey, baby, so, it's so funny but I just woke up and I can't find you in the tower? Did you run off to get breakfast somewhere? You KNOW you shouldn't run off without telling me first; I need you to come on back here ❤️"

"-- so answer your phone you fucking SLUT!! You better not be with another fucking guy, or I swear to fucking GOD--"

"--It just stresses me out that there are so many different kinds of people down here, I worry someone might hurt you, amorcito. I can't help protect you if I'm not there, soooooo, why don't you just, tell me where you are--"

"Is this fucking funny for you, you cunt?! You get all worked up about how PATHETIC AND SAD you are and then leave me? Leave ME? ME?! You're LUCKY i even TOUCHED YOU AT ALL--"

"Heeeeeeey, oh my gosh so this is so funny ummmm, Vox just let me know that Velvette borrowed you for something, soooooooooo, please don't listen to any of those other voicemails, ok? You know how CRAZY you make me, right? Don't forget you have a shift tonight, and if you even think about not showing up, I have some hellhounds that know your scent already and they'll drag you back here by your hair, sooooo, see you later love you byeeeeee ❤️"

[yzashaven]

𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐌𝐄…𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐋𝐘

꒰ 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ꒱ soft dom!scaramouche x fem!reader

꒰ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 ꒱ nsfw themes. mind break (sorta). overstimulation. fingering. cum eating. praise. "sweet girl" n "good girl". dacryphilia if you squint. cumming n squirting (mentioned). multiple orgasms. clit stimulation. no actual penetration (maybe if i do pt 2).

꒰ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ꒱ "you don't need to think, you just need to feel." —♡

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄— hi yes i couldn't think of a title and yes this is what i'm suddenly coming back with because i suck at angst... i had the plot n everything but eh whatever 😭 i randomly got this brick of motivation dropped on my head so yeah have this for now and i'll be leaving for another month (jk) so this wasn't proofread... again. nevertheless, hope you all enjoy 🤍

it's been 3 hours...

"let go once more, sweet girl." the way scaramouche whispers to you causes the butterflies in your stomach to go crazy. his fingers continuing to work their magic on your soaked pussy, rubbing on your clit as he drives you closer to another orgasm.

he's sitting right beside you on the bed as you laid there, obediently taking the pleasure he offers—every single bit of it. "cum for me," your legs shaking even more than before as the euphoric feeling envelopes you for the nth time already. "good girl." his free hand strokes your head gently.

you can vividly see that he's hard; you reach a hand out to touch him. before your mere fingertip could even get to his clothes, he had already grabbed onto your wrist, "i told you no touching." the sharp tone of his words cause you to retreat your hand back to simply hold onto the bedsheets beneath you.

"why can't i touch you?" your voice was slightly breathy as you asked. it's a risky question, honestly. he lets out a gentle sigh as he feels up your body again. a light squeeze to your breast once he thought about his answer.

"i don't need you to do anything to me, my sweet girl." he starts, "seeing you break for me is more than enough. to see you cry, beg, and cum is like eye candy that's all for me to devour." his thumb grazes your tear stained cheek, "so delicate, aren't you?"

at this point, your brain was already mush from the hours of continuous, endless pleasure. "scara..." the sweet whisper of your voice calling out to him, it's his favorite, "...can't think straight." he shows a soft smile as his hand is moving on its own, rubbing your cunt and spreading the sticky mess everywhere. the sheets underneath practically drenched from your arousal and the few times you squirted earlier.

"i don't need you to think," scaramouche's fingers slip back inside you, a moan coming from your lips in response, "all i need is for you to feel." your head is spinning as you feel yourself succumbing to the gentle pleasure of his sweet loving. "feels so good, yeah?" you nod as you let out yet another symphony of moans and whimpers all for him.

"do you wanna feel me? you want my cock inside you, hm?" your orgasm soon comes again as you coat his fingers with your cum, "yes, please." the way you begged him in such a desperate voice easily sent his mind in a spiral.

"you've been a good girl all this time." he pulls his fingers out of your cunt and gives it a short taste, licking his fingers clean before slowly moving to position himself between your legs. "give me your hand." scaramouche then leads your hand down to the obvious bulge in his pants, "feel that? i'm so hard for you, my sweet girl." your face flushes red as he finally pulls the waistband down.

finally...

[l1tw1ck]

In Exchange

Sub!Bottom!FTM Sam Winchester x Dom!Top!Male Reader

☆ Word Count: 3,617 ☆

AFAB Language Used

blacked out every time i wrote this like jekyll and hyde 😭 /j

CW: Non-Con, Sexual Coercion, Drugging, Blowjob, Cum Swallowing, Creampie, Pregnancy Mention, Masturbation, Cunnilingus, Puppy Play (Collar, Puppy Sam), Nipple Sucking, Riding, Corruption

“Excuse me, are you [Name]?” Sam walks up to you as you're smoking outside a bar.

“What's it to you?”

“I’m Joseph Johnson. I'm a detective.” Sam shows you his badge just long enough for you to believe him. “I’d like to ask you some questions about the recent incident.”

“Then you’d better give up and ask someone else.”

Sam looks at you in dismay. “You're the only living witness, we won't be able to get anywhere without you!”

“I’m not sharing anything without something in return.”

He perks up. “I've got about 60 buc-”

“I'm not looking for money. I want you to get on your knees and give me a blowjob.”

He looks at you in shock. “Are you serious?”

“Completely. Make your choice, Sherlock.”

There is no choice. He needs this information in order to save the town. He has to do it. “Fine…Just don't make me swallow.”

You stub out your cigarette. “You're not in a position to make demands, sweetheart. You're gonna swallow it if you want me to talk.”

Chills run down his spine. You're so assertive, it's…..sexy. He almost slaps himself. He lets out a big sigh. “Okay.”

You smile. “Hold on.” You enter the bar and come out a few minutes later with a bottle of beer. It's already been opened. That makes Sam suspicious but in your defense, he doesn't have a bottle opener on him. Against his better judgment, he chugs the bottle.

He notices the chilling grin on your face but hopes it's not because you drugged him. You lead him to a secluded alleyway. “Kneel.” You unbuckle your belt.

“Here? Are you serious?”

“Didn't you hear me, pretty boy? Kneel.”

Sam frowns and gets down on his knees. He gulps upon seeing your hard cock. He’s never seen one in real life before, after all, he's never gone far enough for that.

“Open wide.” You tug on his hair. He looks at you with contempt but opens his mouth anyways. The feeling of your cock entering his mouth is completely foreign. It's way different than sucking on a popsicle or some other iced treat. It’s warm and pulsing. And it's thick, so thick his jaw hurts. “As I thought, you look much better with my cock stuffed in your mouth.”

Sam shivers. He can't believe that turned him on. His body suddenly begins to rise in temperature, as if he's come down with a fever. You don't seem to care about his reddening face as you slowly drag him back and forth on your cock. He stops worrying about it, even as he starts to feel more aroused than he should. He just closes his eyes and discreetly ruts against his hand as you do all the work for him. He feels so wet that his slick is probably bleeding through his underwear. He desperately needs to touch himself but he's sober enough to feel embarrassed about doing so. It's so hard for him to feel pleasure through his pants that he's started whimpering. You don't know why he's doing that but you're not complaining about the new sensation you're feeling.

“Shit- I’m already gonna come-” You moan. “Your mouth is amazing, sweetheart, you're better off selling it than being a detective.”

Sam moans as you come in his mouth. His mind is so hazy and high on whatever you drugged him with that he actually feels happy to swallow your seed. He’s completely out of his mind.

You pull him away from your cock and pry open his mouth with your thumb to make sure he's swallowed everything. “Good boy.”

He looks at you almost demurely.

“It’d be a shame to stop here, don't you think?” You run your fingers through his hair. The drug seems to have kicked in completely so you know he’ll agree.

“Mhm..”

“It’d be nice if I could fuck that sweet ass of yours...”

“Not there...” He shakes his head.

“Why not? I’d make you feel real good.”

“Isn't my pussy better?” Sam smiles, unbuckling his belt.

“It definitely is.” You smirk.

Sam shakily gets up on his feet and drops his pants and boxers to his ankles. He walks over to the wall and bends over, giving you a drunken smile. You look at his pussy and feel your cock immediately come back to life. He's so wet that his slick is on the inner corner of his thighs. You can't wait to dive into that.

You stick two of your fingers inside him, not caring for how that makes him feel, and explore his insides. He's soft, warm, and oh so fucking wet. Sam moans, too drugged to consider the fact that he's in public.

“Th- there!” His voice and legs are shaking. “Yes-yes-yes–”

“Already gonna come, darling?” You find his g-spot and immediately cause him to squirt. You watch in awe, painfully hard thanks to this mesmerizing display. You pull your fingers out and slowly inch your cock inside him. “Sorry, I just couldn't wait any longer. You don't mind, right, baby?”

Sam moans, eyes half lidded. “Mm- deeper~”

“The drug’s really changed you…or maybe it's just allowed your real personality to show?” You smirk, going deeper as he requested. “I might have to keep drugging you if it means I can fuck this sweet pussy of yours.”

He shivers, leaning further against the wall as you make him experience his pussy stretching to accommodate your girth for the first time. “Bi- big~” He bites his lip, absolutely blissed out.

“You like how big I am? Or how good your cunt feels stretching to fit me?”

“Ye- yes~ so good~” He answers both of your questions. “My pussy feels so good, [Name]~”

“Yeah? I’ll make it feel even better.” Once you bottom out you start fucking him at a rough pace. The warm and slippery feeling of his cunt is making you too aroused to control yourself. You cover Sam’s mouth with your hand, knowing he won't even try to keep quiet. Your hand quickly becomes drenched with his saliva, a constant vibration thanks to Sam moaning. You can still hear his moans, albeit muffled, but at a much better level that suits your location. “You're such a good boy, you know? Taking my cock so fucking well. If we were at my place, I’d be happy to hear you moan.”

Sam’s body reacts to being called a good boy, his cunt clenching around you once again.

“I wish I could have you, a cute puppy like you should have an owner. Although, I don't know if I have the strength to actually let you go.” You pull down the collar from the back of his shirt and bite him, making a mark that’s sure to last a while. You can tell just by hearing him and feeling the way his cunt reacts that he liked that. “How about you touch yourself for me, pup? I want you to feel extra good.”

Sam brings his hand down to his t-dick, gently stroking himself and accelerating the amount of time it’ll take him to have an orgasm.

“Look at you, following orders so well.”

He whimpers in response.

“You’d be better off belonging to me than some agency, don't you think?” You move your hand away from his mouth.

“Ye- yes- wanna be yours!” He moans, squirting again on your cock. In his current state of mind, he feels overjoyed at the idea of abandoning his dangerous “career” for a life full of pleasure and submission. He won't have to think or put his life on the line anymore. Right now, he doesn't have the ability to think rationally and being your dog is all he wants. “Tak- take me! I wanna be your puppy~!”

You bury your head in his shoulder, slowing down. “I’ll hold you to that. Gonna make sure you can't change your mind and leave me.” You come inside of him despite knowing he wouldn't want this if he was sober. At this point you don't care what he thinks, you just want him. Maybe the whiskey you had earlier is finally getting to you...

Sam wakes up on his motel bed, feeling something inside his underwear, a painful feeling in his neck, and a sharp headache. He closes his eyes and tries to recall what happened last night. He soon starts to remember everything, even after the drug kicked in. He should be angry but he isn't. He's horny. He sits up on the bed and looks around.

“Dean?” He calls out. No response. He leans back and brings his hand into his pants, sliding his index and middle finger down his slick cunt. He feels your cum and pushes it back inside him, fingering himself with your cum. He doesn't want to get pregnant but he can't help himself. Just doing this makes him so horny…He feels like a perv.

Sam leans back and moans, feeling extra sensitive. He remembers how you made him squirt for the first time and how it’d probably feel even more amazing if he could do it sober. He starts to think about all the compliments you gave him and how you wanted to make him yours. He knows he should be focusing on hunting, especially because of his powers, but he can't help but yearn for a safe life with you. He doesn't even really know you. He did a background check on you but he didn't look at anything that would’ve given him any information about your personality. He can't believe that a one night with you is making him feel like this. Making him want to relinquish his autonomy to a stranger.

He murmurs your name, absolutely enamored with you. Are you even human? You have to have some special power to make him so infatuated with you. Right?

Before he can reach his climax, the sound of the doorknob twisting stops him. Sam quickly takes out his hand and rubs it on his clothes. Dean opens up the door and immediately looks at Sam.

“Where the hell were you last night? And why are you in the same clothes?”

“I- I uh…got drunk.” He looks at him sheepishly.

“Why?!”

“[Name] didn't want to talk unless I won a drinking game…I won.”

Dean looks surprised. “That guy must be even more of a lightweight than you are.”

Sam laughs awkwardly.

“So what's the story?”

“I don't know–” Sam stops thanks to Dean’s expression. “Yet! I’ll call him today.”

“You got his number?”

Sam vaguely remembers you putting something in his pocket. He digs into his right pocket and pulls out a piece of paper. He opens it up. I’ll talk. I left you hangover medicine, the morning after pill, and a pregnancy test. Let me know the results when the time comes. [Your Number]. “Yeah. I got it.” He turns to the bedside table and sees a bag with the logo from the local pharmacy. His heart flutters from your consideration. Which is ironic, considering what you did to him.

“Good. Take a shower and eat something, then call him.” Dean grabs the remote, gets onto his bed, and turns on the tv.

At around 11, Sam called you and now you're sitting outside a café with “Joseph” and his partner, “Francis”.

“There's two of you.” You raise your eyebrow. “Looks like you're not Sherlock, but one of the hardy boys.” You chuckle.

Sam laughs awkwardly. “This is my partner–”

“Wait, let me guess, Frank?”

“Francis. My friends call me Frank.” He smiles, impressed that you got the reference.

“Joseph and Franics. Interesting coincidence.” You’re tempted to inquire further but you decide not to. You're not too excited to recount the story but you’d rather just get it over with.

“And that was it.” You lean back into the chair. You noticed Sam was staring at you the entire time but you ignored it, you don't want to bring anything up with Dean around.

“Thanks for telling us. We’ll get to the bottom of this.” Dean stands up and shakes your hand. “Alright, let's go.” He turns to Sam.

“I- I actually have something to do, go without me.”

“What? What the hell could be so important?”

Sam looks away and doesn't answer.

Dean sighs heavily. “Fine. But don't let me find out you're trying to meet some girl or something.” He shakes his head and walks over to his car.

“So, what’s more important than your investigation?” You tilt your head in interest.

“I remember what happened last night.”

“I sure hope so, that's the whole reason I’m here.”

“No, I remember that you drugged me.”

You’re a little surprised, that wasn't supposed to happen. You know he won't turn you in though. You’re sure of it. “Are ya gonna turn me in, Mr. Hardy?” You smile teasingly.

“Not if you do something for me in return. It's only fair, right?”

You give him an amused look. “Of course, puppy, it's only fair.”

Sam blushes at the name.

“So what do you want me to do?”

“Drive me to your place and you'll find out.”

“Alright, we'll have to make a quick stop though.” You grin and lead him to your car.

Sam enters your home, anxious for two reasons. One, because you went to a sex shop and told him what you bought is a secret. And two, because he's about to request something that nobody in their right mind would do after being taken advantage of in such a way.

He sits on your bed and watches you as you place the bag on your desk and reveal what you bought. A collar that closely resembles one for a dog, but clearly made to be worn by a human. Sam’s entire body heats up.

“Just a little something to remember me by.” You hand him the collar

He frowns slightly, he doesn't want to leave you. He doesn't know why he's so obsessed with you but he brushes away the thought and puts the collar on. He looks adorable. “Now you have to do my request.” He unbuckles his belt and unzips his pants. “I want you to eat me out.” He's been fantasizing about this in the shower. He can't leave this town without experiencing this at least once.

You lick your lips. “That's it? If that's what you want, I’ll be glad to do it.” You pull his pants and underwear off for him and kneel in between his legs. You slowly drag your tongue up his pussy, tasting him for the first time. You let out a soft noise of pleasure before wrapping your lips around his t-dick and slowly easing two your fingers into his cunt. Sam throws his head back and moans unabashedly as you suck him off, his body heating up. This is so much better than just fingering himself. Your mouth feels so good.

“Like that- yes~” Sam rolls his eyes back. It won't take long for him to come. “[Name]~!” He gasps when your fingers reach his g-spot. “Oh my God–” He falls back onto the bed, quickly climbing towards his orgasm. You add a third finger and continue to finger his wetness while sucking his cock more passionately. Sam can't even manage to get any words out, he feels too fucking good to even think about anything. He instinctively wraps his legs around your head and squirts, drenching you. He takes a few moments before letting go of you.

You pull away and lick your lips. “Now, how about a round two?”

Sam nods, removing his clothes. “I wanna ride you.”

“I’d love that.”

Sam hovers above your hard length, his left hand holding it in his place and his right on your shoulder. He lowers himself onto your cock, gasping when he feels you stretching him open. Despite his memory being mostly clear from that night, the pleasure he remembered wasn't enough to prepare him for this. “Fuck–!” He moans, continuing to lower himself down. Tears run down his cheeks thanks to the painful pleasure he's experiencing. “You're- so, so big-” He's breathless.

“You're adorable, puppy.” You hold his cheek in your hand. “I know you can handle it though, keep going.”

Sam moves further down until you're completely inside him. He looks at you, tears still streaming down.

“Good boy.” You kiss him. His eyes widen for a moment before closing his eyes and reciprocating the kiss. You briefly pull away to open your mouth and Sam is quick to catch on. You return to kissing him but now with your tongue. Sam considers himself a master at kissing, since it's the most he’s ever done. At least when it comes to receiving.

Sam finds himself grinding down on your cock, finding pleasure in the way you feel inside him.

You pull away from him and move down to his neck to bite and kiss it. You now move even further and wrap your lips around his nipple, happily sucking on it while your hand goes to massage his other breast. Sam whimpers and squeezes your cock happily. He could get used to this. Just being a dumb, slutty puppy for you to use sounds great to him. Sorry Dean and the greater good, Sam is giving up on being a hunter and choosing to become a simple toy.

You reluctantly leave his breasts and look at Sam with a smile. “Why don't you try riding me now?”

“Okay..” Sam places both his hands on your shoulders and slowly rises. He whimpers at the feeling. He never had the confidence to try using a dildo so he had no idea how intense this would feel. He quickly lowers himself, missing the feeling of your entire cock inside him. Even losing a few inches is upsetting for him.

“You don't want to do it anymore? Is it too hard for you, puppy?”

He looks away from you. “I want all of you inside me…”

“Aw, you can't even stand a few seconds? I promise you won't even feel it as long as you keep up a fast pace. It’ll feel much better than just having me inside you…although I do enjoy having you keep my cock warm.”

Sam tries riding you properly but he's still feeling weak and can't do it fast enough. He stops and looks at you.

“Let me help you.” You grab his waist and lift him up and down at a fast pace. Sam rolls his head back and moans in pleasure. “See? It feels good.”

“So- so good!” He cries. He feels so good that he barely even feels the painful slapping of his breasts against his chest. He can't even focus his sight, pain is nearly obsolete to him. He brings his hand down to his dick, stroking it as best he can. You can tell he's about to come.

“Come on, puppy, come for me.” You smirk. It doesn't take much longer after that for Sam to come. He squirts, making a mess on your body. “Good boy. Now it's my turn.”

Sam gasps as his body is suddenly pushed onto the bed, your hands squeezing his wrists tightly. “Just a little more, I know you can take it.” You roughly thrust into his cunt, indulging in the lovely wet warmth of his pussy. Sam doesn't mind, on the contrary, he’s happy to be used just to get you off. “You're so obedient, sweetheart, so perfect.” You start to act more like a dog than Sam, your horniness compelling you to rut into him like a wild beast. He can barely handle it thanks to the previous activities but he's fighting to stay awake. Seeing you in this state is much too arousing to miss.

“Tha- thank you~” He smiles stupidly.

Just hearing him say that with an expression like that makes you come. You briefly grip his wrists harder then loosen it as you come down from your high. “I don't want to let you go..”

“Me neither…I like being your puppy.” His eyelids start to feel heavy. “Wanna keep getting used…” He falls asleep. You kiss his forehead and pull out. You've never given an unconscious person a bath but it shouldn't be too hard.

Dean pounds angrily on your front door, a gun in his pocket ready to shoot you if necessary. Thanks to an eyewitness report from the café employee, he found out where Sam went. He doesn't know what's going on but he's furious. He hasn't answered his calls and he hasn't seen him since yesterday.

You open the door. “Ah! Francis. Here to pick up your partner?” You pause.

“What the fuck did you do to my brother?”

“Nothing he didn't like.” You reply plainly. “He's perfectly fine and drinking some tea. I’ll show you.”

Dean looks at Sam in shock. He's just wearing a big shirt and probably underwear. “Sam! What's going on?”

“I’m sorry, but I want to stay here. I love [Name] and I don't want to leave him.”

“WHAT?!” He's completely taken aback.

“You heard him. You’ll have to head back on your own. I’ll get his stuff for him.”

Dean doesn't trust you at all. He's going to be doing a lot of research on whatever monster you might be. He's convinced you're not human. “I’m staying longer. You probably did something to him…I don't trust you.”

“That's fine.” You smile. You have something else to worry about. “So…who's Sam?”

Sam and Dean both look at each other. Looks like they're going to have to reveal the truth, at least partially...

[reiderwriter]

hii I absolutely love your writing!! I was wondering if you could write a one shot with gun kink? maybe not really something *aggressive* but just gun kink in the plot !! and please smut with no angst, also maybe aftercare in the end? it's totally okay if you're not comfortable. im loving your kinktober one shots! have a good day :)

A/N: This being one of like... three gun kink requests I've received, we are all not seeing the pearly gates lmao. If you enjoy reading this, even 50% of how much I enjoyed writing it, then I'm happy 😚

Warnings: Undercover FBI Agent reader, gun kink, interrogation room sex, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, some BDSM themes, Spencer has to 'rough up' the reader etc.

Masterlist

Being rough-housed by a group of FBI agents and pushed against a wall before being handcuffed was never your idea of a fun Tuesday night. It wasn't exactly high on the list for any night of the week, really, but here you were. 

“Caitlyn Grant? You're under arrest for being an accessory to a felony and evading law enforcement, whatever you say…” You drowned out the rest of the statement. It was nothing you didn't have memorized. 

“You're not the usual drug crew, and you don't look sturdy enough to be on most of the other teams either. What part of the Bureau are you in?” You asked the lanky man currently pinning you to the wall as he made sure your handcuffs were aptly tight. 

“You have the right to an attorney, if you can't afford one-” 

“I waive my rights. It's not human trafficking. You wouldn't be working this case if you were human trafficking.” 

The man just stared at you in vague disapproval as you grinned back at him. His closeness meant you could see every detail of his face up close, the five o'clock shadow, the dark circles from lack of sleep. On most of the agents you'd encountered, it had the effect of making them look older, a little haggard, and depressed. On this man, it was honestly very hot. 

He started your pat down by spreading your legs, though honestly, if he'd asked nicely enough, you'd have done just that for him. You near enough told him just that as he reached the two pockets on the ass of your jeans. 

“Watch it, Agent, my bite is worse than my bark.” 

“Turn around.” 

You pouted at his solid resolve, wondering what it would take to get the man to crack a smile or even a frown. Something that wasn't just disinterest slapped on a face and called a day. 

You did as he asked, making sure your body pressed nicely up against his the entire way until your shoulders were resting on the wall and he was feeling along your waist. 

“Come on, what kind of weapon are you going to find there?”

“Standard protocol, please let me do my job.”

“Standard protocol is calling one of your female agents over here to maintain the boundary, Agent. This feels more like you're just trying to cop a feel.” 

Those words finally got a reaction. The subtle clench of the jaw as his hands tightened slightly on your waist had you suddenly regretting your decision to be put in handcuffs. Your hands should've been free to tuck the stray lock of hair that had fallen in his eyes behind his ear, free so your fingernails could trace a path down his face and neck and chest. 

His gaze landed on the simple silver chain you wore around your list and he delicately pulled it out of your shirt, careful not to touch you (and avoiding you even as you arched your back into him). 

With a quick tug, he pulled the necklace clean off your neck, not pausing to bother with the clasp at all. 

“Clever boy. I'll see you in the interrogation room, shall I?” He said nothing as the female agents you'd mentioned earlier stationed themselves on either side of you as you walked away. You didn't break eye contact until the doors to the police van closed behind you. 

Six months undercover on a case, and this was the first time you'd stepped foot in a police precinct since you'd ditched your real name and life. 

The interrogation rooms hadn't changed in that time, at least, still grey and depressing. Time felt void as you waited for company, and thankfully, you weren't waiting long.

“Agent Y/N, sorry about the arrest, we wanted to make it look as real as possible while pulling you out.” The woman who greeted you obviously held the authority, and while you wanted to respect that, the sight of the man trailing behind her actually caught her full attention. 

“Pleasure to meet you….?” You let the question hang open for both of them but kept your gaze fully focused on the man, who stood himself next to the door, keeping surprisingly quiet. 

“I'm Unit Chief Emily Prentiss, this is Doctor Spencer Reid, we're from the-” 

“Behavioural Analysis Unit, of course. I was close, you know, earlier. A face like yours wouldn't last five minutes in cartel land. I almost guessed cyber, but you looked a bit too bookish. Doctor Reid, hmm.” 

“This interview is taking place with Agent Prentiss. Please direct all your questions to her.”

“Oh shit, sorry, where are my manners. I didn't mean to disrespect you like that, Agent Prentiss. It's just been a long few months.”

The other woman just chuckled and shook her head, leafing through some documents to pass you over the information on the case they needed assistance on. 

“We think there's a serial killer in the drug ring you infiltrated,” the woman explained, passing over the files with the case details. You took a moment's breath before opening to the crime scene photos, steeling yourself for what you might encounter. 

“There are probably a lot of serials in the organization. It's a drug ring. What makes this one worse?” You said, just as you flipped the file open and answered your own question. 

“Shit- Okay, that's what makes this one worse. He can't be more than 15, right?” 

The answering grimace on the two agents' faces suggested you'd been generous in your estimate. “Okay, how can I help?” 

xxxxx 

A few hours passed in the interrogation room, and you'd walked them through all of your up to date information on your case and cover. The chair wasn't exactly comfortable, but you were glad to be finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. The interview was ending, and you could see an end to your undercover work swiftly following too with the BAU's assistance. 

You weren't looking forward to having to acclimatize back into the real world. You'd gone from pushing papers at a desk 9 hours a day to rubbing shoulders with drug dealers and junkies, a lot of whom were kids, young people like you who had no other options than the streets and crime. 

You made a mental note to give a few warnings to the younger kids on the streets to stay alert and then started getting back into character. 

“Thanks again for your help, Agent. We appreciate your time.” Prentiss nodded at you as she gathered the folders, getting ready to leave. 

Spencer Reid stood, too, stretching himself out as he rose from the chair, giving you quite the show as your eyes dragged from his face, down his chest and down further still as you appreciated the view. 

The last few hours had been strictly professional, and you'd enjoyed bouncing ideas off of him, running through theories. Now, trying to get back into your ‘lusty barmaid’ persona, you thought instead about how much you'd like to bounce on him yourself, possibly while running your hands through his hair. 

A girl could dream. 

“Hold on a second, I'm still in cover, I can't go back out there looking this pristine, it's too suspicious,” you said, the two agents turning back to you curiously. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Someone needs to throw me around a little. Rough housing, you know, a few bruises will do it.” 

Prentiss looked at you, caught halfway between impressed and amused. The good Doctor however seemed to darken slightly, covering his shock with a tensed jaw. 

“She's all yours, Spencer,” Wmily winked at the man, turning the door handle and beginning her exit.

“What? Why?” 

“I don't hit women.” 

“And I do? Emily, wha-” 

But the door to the interrogation room has already closed with a small cackle, and you're already being drawn closer to the man like a moth to a flame. 

Turning to face you, you see the shock of the situation on his face before he looks away in a flash, refusing to meet your eyes as he keeps himself close to the door. 

“Doctor Reid, I'm not actually a criminal, you know?” 

“I thought you wanted one of us to treat you like a criminal now.” 

“You make a good point, shall we begin?” 

He signed and rubbed his temples as you advanced, letting you get a little bit closer before holding his hands up in surrender. 

“Wait, wait, tell me first, what should we be doing?” 

You took a deep breath and expelled it, then took the time to think about it. 

You would need some visible marks of the FBI's unkindness - wrists red, a bruise or two on your knees, maybe, from falling. The problem was, you couldn't think about how to get the marks without driving yourself insane. 

There was a quick and easy way to get tender knees, an even easier way to mark up your neck and chest, but you couldn't figure out how to ask Spencer Reid to do those things without spreading your legs and letting him do whatever he wanted. You weren't sure you wouldn't do that eventually, anyway.

“Let's start with my wrists. You were too generous with the handcuffs earlier - just grab them really tight, pin me against the wall if it helps.”

He nodded and took a hesitant step towards you, thinking for a second, before grabbing one wrist and spinning you around. Before you could even process the action, he had you pinned, chest against the wall, arms above your head. 

“Is that okay?” He asked, his grip tight  but not bruising yet. 

“A little tighter, I want the marks to last a while. Why is my face against the wall?” 

He gripped tighter, the pain sending a jolt through your wrists that trailed all the way down to pool between your thighs. 

“I thought you'd be less uncomfortable like this.” 

“With your dick pushed up against my ass? Yes, Doctor, great decision.” 

He let out a cold, quick laugh, leaving you flushed as he pushed your upper body into the wall, too, finally getting to the grip strength he needed to get attention. 

“I'm sorry to disappoint, Y/N, but that's my gun,” the words whispered in your ear were the last straw as you shuddered in his grasp, his hands releasing your wrists as he stepped back a little. 

You shook out your hands a little, trying to momentarily relive the stiffness in your joints. 

He took a few paces to the desk and upholstered his weapon, placing it on the desk before joining you again. 

“So you don't get confused again,” he explained at seeing your raised eyebrow. 

“Oh so next time, it will be your dick?” You whispered, moving back to the desk and sitting yourself on the edge or it, picking up the gun and studying it for a few minutes. 

“Y/N, put it down.” 

“Ooh, possessive, are we?” You giggled, aiming it at him for a second before grabbing it by the barrel and holding it back out for him to grab. 

“Hold it, point it at me or whatever. Maybe it'll help you rough me up.” 

His brow furrowed, but he grabbed it anyway, not immediately slipping it into the holster as he stepped forward. 

“What now?” He asked, and you shrugged. 

“Whatever feels natural. And looks visible, I guess.”

It took him a few minutes to decide, surveying your body like it was a puzzle. Professionally, of course. You were about to speak up and urge him to get on with it when his hand shot out and wrapped around your throat. 

You tried to gasp, but the grip was firm, and boy, was it driving you crazy. Your legs had naturally parted as you sat yourself on the edge of the desk, and he walked into that space now, his free hand still holding the gun. 

Your body pushed forward into his, suddenly awash with arousal as your chest heaved with tiny breaths, lungs burning. 

“Are you enjoying this, Y/N? Or is it Caitlyn Grant that's enjoying this?” 

You felt the gun touch your thigh gently, and you moaned, just as he softened his grip on your throat. 

“Answer me, please. This is an interrogation room, after all.”

You met his eyes, checking to see how far he would take this, how far you could push back. 

“I'll admit, I'm not against mixing pain and pleasure.” 

His gaze flicked down, slowly pushing his gun up the skin of your thigh, raising your skirt with the barrel to catch a quick glimpse of your panties. 

“I can tell.” 

If it weren't for his grip on you, you'd have lunged for him right then and there. The cool metal against your thigh had you shuddering against him, growing wetter by the minute. 

“I read somewhere once that we can't pretend to be someone else without actually becoming them in some small way. You've been a cartel whore for six months, I wonder if this is a lasting effect.” 

He was so close now all he needed to do to close the gap was change the angle of his head, but he kept you in place with that gun, pointing up from your pussy, flush against your stomach. 

“I'll tell you a secret - the part of me that's aroused right now definitely predates this cover.” 

His lips drop to yours, tongue clashing with yours furiously as he grabs the back of your head to angle you better. 

Letting his hand drop back to your thigh, he gently coaxed you further open, skirt riding up. Putting down the gym momentarily, he pressed a wandering finger against your pantie-clad pussy, feeling your arousal before he used it to coat his fingers. 

A second later and the offending pair of underwear lay discarded on the floor. 

“Fuck, Spencer,” you said, gasping for breath as he again picked up the gun. 

“You wanted this so badly, didn't you? You've been needing someone to treat you like this for months now. It didn't even have to be me.” 

He traced circles on your thigh with the gun, and you twitched, years of training not letting you relax around the weapon and months of sexual frustration, making you desperate for something to touch you. 

“Yes, yes, please touch me.” 

The hand at your throat slid down to your chest and pushed gently  urging you to lie back and let him do whatever he wanted with you. The desk was cold - metal biting at your bare skin - and it only sent more shivers down your spine as he lowered himself to his knees and parted your legs for his tongue. 

The first touch was heaven, a state of bliss you'd been without in what felt like forever. His tongue danced across your folds as he tasted every inch of your exposed cunt, grip still strong on the gun pointed now to your chest, pinning you between the machine and the table. 

You tried to be as still as possible, to take the pleasure he gave calmly, but you couldn't. You writhed, moaned, chest heaving as you tried to hold off the first orgasm you'd achieved with someone else in probably a year.  

Like a man on a mission, Spencer Reid did not care. He gladly suffocated between your thighs as you squeezed them together, wrapping them around his head so you could keep feeling the insurmountable pleasure of his tongue on your pussy. 

“Spencer…Spencer, fuck-” you said as he finally pried your legs apart, lifting them just slightly so his tongue could reach further inside of you, curling with each wave of passion. Your hands fisted his hair, desperate for something to ground you to the moment as your pleasure spilt out of you, orgasm jolting through you in tiny sparks of pleasure. 

The gun moved first, coming level with your chest as you untangled your fingers from his hair. Spencer stood, wiping his face with the back of his hand as he kept the gun on you. 

“I think this turns you on even more. You've been ruined by this cover, Y/N, you're so used to being in danger that you can't even get off without someone threatening you.” 

You attempted to scoff, to brush off his words somehow, but his hand was suddenly back around your throat, picking you up off the desk and pulling you instead towards the room's one-way window. 

“Look at yourself,” he said, again twisting you around so you were pressed into the wall, wrists above your hair, raising your shirt to expose the cold skin underneath. He ran the barrel across the fresh skin, leaving a field of goosebumps along his path. 

“I don't think it would've mattered who came in to rough you up. I think you'd just as happily have convinced Emily to fuck your little pussy raw, right Y/N? As long as there was a gun…” 

Your moan was the only response as he used the weapon to spread your legs. You naturally arched your back and kept your hands in place as he holstered the weapon momentarily to unzip his pants and let his cock free. 

You couldn't see it, but you saw his reflection in the mirror as he slowly stretched you out with it, mouth dropping in a lustful ‘o’ as he fed his dick to you, hard and thick. 

As soon as it was in, the gun came back out, this time to rest against your temple. 

“Get yourself off,” his voice was so low it was practically a growl. “Use my cock, and pleasure yourself.” 

Your body listened immediately, beginning to move back and forth on his cock as he held himself in place. His moans and groans were all the encouragements you needed, the gun at your temple was just made the pleasure more profound as you approached your release. 

But he kept you pinned to the glass, your full range of motion limited, and you whimpered in frustration that you couldn't feel every inch of him. 

“If you need something, use your words, Agent.” 

“More, need more, please..please,” you gasped, breathing ragged. 

The hands at your wrists released, and he fisted a hand into the flesh at your hip, your wrists resting on the glass next to your face as he took over your thrusting. 

“Can't even do this anymore, what a spoiled little whore,” he said as his hips began snapping into you, reaching that spot deep inside you as you drooled against the glass, wondering if anyone had just happened to step into that room and what they must think about you. 

“Cum for me, Y/N. Cum on my cock,” he said it, and entranced, your body did just that, your orgasm taking the last breath of strength you had as he too plunged himself deeper and stilled there, his cum coating your walls. 

Neither of you moved for an eternity, but the first sign of clarity returning was the careful return of the gun to the holster. 

Pulling a handkerchief from his pocket, Spencer minimized the mess you made together, cleaning you up as he slipped out of you. Discarding it momentarily on the floor, he pulled your clothes back into position and led you back over to the chairs. Just as he moved to sit you down, though, you turned and wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him into a hug. 

His arms hung suspended for a minute or two before he let them rest on your back, stroking your hair. 

“Sorry, it's been… it's been lonely, and I didn't realize how hard it had been until-” 

“It's okay. Take your time,” he said, sitting down in the chair and letting you curl up in his lap, burying your head in his neck

“We’ll catch this guy, and then you're out, okay Y/N? We'll come back and get you out soon.” 

Lifting your eyes to his, you nodded, pressing your lips to his with a smile as you again worked yourself back into character, regaining your earlier composure and lifting yourself from the man's too comfortable arms. 

“Well, Spencer, what do you say we get me back into panties and handcuffs and cut Caitlyn Grant loose?” 

[marvelsswansong]

Imagine corio seeing a woman flirt with r he’s so confused cuz he’s used to disgusting men after her only

no but like seriously 🌞👉👈

Corio isn't oblivious to the fact that there is a price for dating someone as beautiful as you. Namely, that others - doesn't matter if they're complete strangers or close working colleagues - will secretly want you, with some of them even being bold enough to try and entice you.

This is all much to his annoyance, as he tries being very public about the fact that you're his. Think constant arm around your waist, aggressive kisses in public, loudly calling you 'darling' from across the room. But that doesn't seem to deter everyone.

Especially not the types of men in the Capitol.

If he's feeling calmer that day, he might just stop at glaring at the man whilst pulling you away by the waist, or knocking the breath of you by suddenly grabbing your face and kissing you fiercely for the crowd of men to see. If he's in a sour mood, or it's been a hard week, you have to be careful to keep an eye on the blonde in case he flies into a fit of rage and his mind starts to scan the room for whatever is sharp and capable of causing damage.

"Sometimes I feel as if I have to babysit you." you would tease after one particularly harsh night, where you and Corio get thrown out of a house party after he smashed another man's face into the wall and then proceeded to twist the man's arm to the point of almost breaking a bone. Granted, the man had been extremely aggressive towards you and making very inappropriate comments, but it'd been rather awkward to see the stranger be carried onto an ambulance whilst the head of the household ordered the both of you out.

Chest heaving and knuckles still bruised from the impact, he'd just kiss you again, his tongue tasting of copper.

"Can't help it. You're too pretty." he whispers, and all your criticisms of him would fly out the window.

But Coriolanus is always less guarded when it's a woman around you. After all, you have so many best friends who are women, you spend so much time around grandma'am and Tigirs, and so on. He just associates women being around you with platonic love and comfort.

So when you leave him to go get some drinks at the bar, a fancy upper east side bar you've been begging to go to, he's too busy searching the room for potential men who approach you to notice the red haired woman beelining towards you. She bumps into you 'on accident', pink champagne spilling over the tip of the glass just a bit - a light splash on your jeans, but nothing too bad.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry." she quickly says, grabbing a nearby napkin to hand it off to you. Coriolanus watches the interaction from the back of the club, the specifics of your conversation with her unintelligble over the loud music, but he doesn't think anything much of it. Even when the auburn haired woman's fingers brush against yours whilst exchanging the napkin.

He watches as you smile politely at her, probably telling her that it's okay, before turning around to the bartender to make an order. The woman next to you continues to talk to you through out the exchange, which again doesn't raise any red flags to Corio.

After all, women are very friendly by nature. It's normal that someone, especially a stranger who feels bad for spilling a drink on you, wants to continue to talk to you.

You don't think much of it either on your end, other than thinking that she - Clara, she tells you her name after a soft giggle - is very nice.

It's only when the drinks arrive and the woman stops you, lightly sitting you back down and brushing away the hair from your eyes, that Coriolanus starts feeling rather odd. The sudden wide eyes on your face and the red haired woman's smirk, before she slides you a piece of paper from her back pocket and lets you go, raises a lot of questions in his mind.

His top options? Something along the lines of bribery or illegal drugs. Or maybe she's using you to get something from him. Or maybe she wants something from your family.

What he doesn't expect, is for you to come back totally speechless, fingers deftly hanging onto the small piece of paper. You look somewhere between embarrassed and shocked, refusing to meet your boyfriend's eyes as you sit down next to him. He frowns at that, patting his lap instead.

Normally, you'd sit on his legs without a second thought. This time though, you hesitate.

"What'd she want? Drugs? Mone-" he growls, only to be cut off by the stranger.

"So you weren't lying. You do have a boyfriend." the red haired woman cuts into the conversation, now sitting on the velvet chair across from you. Coriolanus swears his jaw almost drops when the woman laughs seductively, winking at you whilst uncrossing her legs.

"You can sit on my lap instead, honey."

"I, you- I just-" Coriolanus starts speaking in an attempt to swear or scare her off, but his mind totally blanks.

You've never seen your boyfriend this flustered. His pale complexion breaks into a dark shade of red, his usually stern gaze darting back and forth between you and the woman, his speech stuttered and jumbled. It's YOU who ends up having the composure to let her down gently, holding out the paper with her phone number out towards her and informing her that you love your boyfriend very much and you're not that interested.

She pouts at that, and it makes your boyfriend's jaw clench so hard his face aches.

"Aw... alright, darling. But keep the paper. You know, just in case you wanna play."

With a wink and a hair flip, she disappears into the dark crowd of sweaty bodies and loud music. It's only then that your boyfriend snaps into action, taking the paper into his hands and shredding it to pieces.

"She called you darling." he snarls, angry. "Only I get to call you darling."

You just giggle, kissing away his sour expression, before tugging at his sleeves.

"Come on, forget about it. Let's just dance." you say, the alcohol in your veins still making you feel buzzed. He complies, never being able to say no to you, but the entire night, he can't help but hold you very close and glare at everyone who approaches you or even looks at you.

Regardless of their gender.

Now, he has to protect you from everyone, he thinks.

BONUS SCENARIO (later in the night)

You've had one too many drinks and yell into Coriolanus' ear that you really need to go to the bathroom. You clutch your handbag and stumble into the corridor, leaving your boyfriend alone by the bar. A stunning blonde woman slides into the empty seat next to him, glossy lips parting to ask a question.

Thinking she's going to hit on him, he raises his right hand, stopping her on the spot.

"I'm not interested, sorry."

The woman scoffs at that, ordering a tequila shot and almost glaring at him.

"Neither am I, genius. I was just wondering if you knew the name of the cutie who just went to the bathroom."

The moment you come back, he practically drags you out of the bar and hails a cab back to the apartment.

He's had enough of women trying to steal you from him. At least for that night.

a/n: hope you guys like this small type of blurbs too in between major fics hehe

[minisugakoobies]

Whipped | KMG

Pairing: Mingyu x GNReader (no agab)

Genre: fluff, idiots to lovers, slightly crack-ish, non-idol!AU

Rating: T

Warnings: Mingyu's a stubborn idiot, but he's also the softest human alive, Minghao's kind of a jerk tbh, use of they/them pronouns for reader, this is honestly just fluffy nonsense meant to give you warm fuzzies

Word Count: 3.9k

Disclaimers: Obviously I don’t own SVT - they just inspire me

Summary: No matter what his friends say, Mingyu is definitely, absolutely, one hundred percent not whipped for you.

A/N: Yep, another Mingyu fic. I can't help it. 🤷‍♀️

Unbeta’d as usual. If you liked this, please let me know! I’d love to hear what you think (but please be kind I’m fragile 🥺) 💕

SVT Masterlist 💜 Main Masterlist

Kim Mingyu is not whipped.

This is what he forcefully reminds himself when you walk into Minghao’s party, looking sweeter than a spring day, a phrase which if he’s being honest is maybe a little more poetic than he’d normally use. That’s okay. He can be a little dramatic if he wants. Why not? Seokmin does it all the time and no one bats an eye.

In any case. Mingyu is not whipped.

That’s why he turns his head, pretending he doesn’t see you dazzle everyone around you with your beautiful smile. While he’s pretending, he also acts like he can’t feel his own lips tug upwards at the soft chime of your laughter, a Pavlovian response to your happiness. No, his smile is unrelated to whatever you’re doing. He’s just in a good mood, one that didn’t suddenly ascend to the heavens when you entered the room.

Mingyu’s not whipped.

He sinks further into the couch where he’s sitting, a little off to the side of where Minghao, Jeonghan, and Seokmin are talking. Theoretically, he’s part of the conversation, adding the occasional hum or laugh, but he’s really not contributing much of anything. He’s too busy thinking about you. Not like that. 

(But not not like that, either.) 

In any case, Mingyu remains firmly unwhipped - solid, unshaken, definitely not falling apart over you. He’ll be absolutely fine, as long as you stay on the other side of the room, where your charms can’t reach him. Except that he can’t stop watching you, and now you’re looking at him, and even though he averts his eyes, it’s too late. He can sense you walking towards him, his heartbeat increasing with every step you take.

Not. Whipped. 

“Hey there, stranger.” 

Instinctively, at the sound of your voice, he glances up at you, like a flower tilting its face towards your light. He nods at your greeting, mumbling a hello of his own. The others sitting around him all greet you as well, but you merely nod in reply, your full attention on Mingyu. 

“Do you wanna tell me why you’ve been avoiding me?”

If Mingyu had a list of things he loved about you, which he does not, being straightforward would be near the top. Of this totally fictional list that does not exist. He admires it, actually, the way you have no patience for dishonesty or deception.

Even though your question is blunt, your smile remains soft as you wait for his response, and Mingyu rethinks his ranking. Item number one on that imaginary list - the way you smile, at him, specifically. It’s so warm, like being hugged by the rays of the sun itself. It makes him happier than he ever thought possible. He wants to curl up like a cat and bask in the feeling. If he’s not careful, he might start purring right now.

He’s totally super normal about you.

“Me?” he asks, stalling for time, praying that a somewhat reasonable explanation falls into his lap in the meantime. He’s only a fair-to-moderate bullshitter, so his hopes are low. He can feel the others staring at the two of you, very obviously listening, because no one in your friend group seems to respect boundaries. It’s not helping. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean,” you chirp back, and he does, he knows exactly what you mean, just like you know exactly what he’s doing. “You’ve been ignoring my texts. What’s going on?”

What’s going on is that Mingyu is not whipped, even if it feels like his insides are turning to melty goo beneath your inquisitive gaze. 

“I’m not ignoring you. I’ve just been busy,” he shoots, aiming for breezy and landing just shy of nonchalant. 

“Busy doing what?” 

“You know. Stuff.” Oh god, he really sucks at this. “And things.” Jesus Christ.

You fold your arms, and Mingyu thinks it’s cute the way you’re squinting at him, one eye closed as you assess his response. Unbearably cute, actually, and getting worse the longer it goes on.

“Yeahhhh, that’s not good enough,” you inform him, and with one hand on his arm (Mingyu ignores the electric current that lights up his nervous system when you touch him. It’s just static and definitely not anything else), you pull him to his feet and lead him out of Minghao’s apartment and into the empty hallway. He follows, not because he’d follow you anywhere, but because he’s curious.

Once the door is closed behind you, you turn to him, a serious expression on your face. “Gyu. Be honest with me.” Always, he thinks reflexively. “This is about what those guys said the other night, isn’t it?” 

Of course you know exactly what it is that has his head spinning right now. The two of you have been friends for ages, but Mingyu still can’t get over how easily you always seem to read him. 

A few nights ago, Mingyu and you had been out to dinner with a few others, and it had been like any other time you were hanging out with your friends, lots of laughing and teasing and just being happy dumbasses together. Only on this particular evening, the food had taken a very long time to arrive, but the drinks kept coming in the meanwhile, and you’d gotten a little drunker than usual, and a little clingier, sticking to Mingyu like a magnet.

Not that Mingyu minded having you hanging on his side all night. Nor did he mind keeping a close eye on you, making sure you were drinking your water and eating to help soak up some of the alcohol. None of that bothered him at all - you were his best friend; why wouldn’t he take care of you? Especially when you smiled at him and thanked him for being so sweet, so good to you, over and over.

(He can’t even begin to explain how that made him feel.)

The others noticed. And commented. Mingyu tried to ignore them, but they just wouldn’t shut up. By the time they joked that Mingyu was your trained puppy, suggesting you buy him a pretty collar and a leash to go with it, he’d had enough.

And when he tried to express that, Minghao had shut him down with a scoff, a wave of his hand, and one word. 

“Whipped.” 

Mingyu admits that he’s a lot of things, but he’s not a whipped man. He’s not. He’s not, no matter what the others say. No matter how you’re looking at him right now, concern etched all over your lovely face, lip tucked between your teeth as you wait for his answer. He’s strong. And proud. 

(And maybe a stubborn idiot, but that’s neither here nor there.)

He considers just not responding at all, but he knows how persistent you are, so he settles for a half-shrug. You sigh, leaning back against the wall, arms crossing in front of you. 

“You’re being ridiculous, you know that?” you say softly, shaking your head. “They were joking. They said so! And you know I didn’t take it seriously for a second.” 

“You didn’t hear everything they said!” he protests, crossing his own arms. You’d missed most of the barbs flying his way that night, too busy enjoying yourself. Which weirdly made him happy. He hated the thought of those guys ruining your night. “They said I was your pet!” 

“So? Jeonghan always tells Seokmin he’s got the zoomies when he gets hyper. He knows he’s not actually a dog! It’s just stupid jokes! Our friends are dumb!” you laugh, throwing up your hands. “That’s what we like about them!”

Mingyu can’t help it, he starts to laugh with you, but then he catches himself, shaking his head. “You don’t get it.” 

“Then help me understand.” 

How can he help you understand, when he’s not entirely sure he understands it himself, this storm inside him, clouding his mind? 

“I…” He glances wildly around the hallway, but there’s nothing out here to help him. He can hear the bass from whatever song is playing inside the party, a low, steady thrumming that contrasts the erratic thumping of his heart. “I don’t like being called weak.”

You tilt your head. “Is that what they said?” 

“Yeah. Or I guess… they implied it. When they said I was whipped for you.” He lets out a frustrated sigh, knowing he’s pouting and it doesn’t help his defense, but it’s just his default setting. “But I’m not.” 

Because he’s staring into your eyes as he speaks, he catches it - the quick expression of sorrow that pinches your brow at his explanation - but it’s fleeting, gone in an instant. If he weren’t watching your face so intently, he would’ve missed it. 

“Gyu,” you sigh, the corners of your mouth lifting in what is clearly meant to be a smile, except it doesn’t reach your eyes, and for a moment, the confusing tide of emotions inside him still, and he feels only sadness. That’s not how you smile. “Can you please let it go? Everyone was being an idiot. That’s nothing new! Besides…” You trail off, staring at the floor.

He waits a beat. “Besides what?”

You huff and shrug. “It’s nothing, forget it.” 

The uncertainty in your tone unnerves Mingyu even more than your fake smile. Where’s that directness of yours? 

“No, tell me. Besides what?” 

With a deep breath, you look him straight in the eye. “Besides, I’m not delusional. I know you don’t like me like that. I’m not your type.” 

Your voice grows quieter at the end of your sentence, just as the music coming from the other side of the door fades out, and to Mingyu, the silence only amplifies your words, leaving them ringing loudly in his ears like a sonic boom. You’re not his type?

He blinks rapidly, as if that will somehow help. 

“You - you’re not - “ He pauses, searching fruitlessly for the end of his sentence, but it’s nowhere to be found.

“Right. I’m not.” 

The laugh you let out sounds so fake that he winces, and a terrible realization hits him. You’ve taken his stammering to be a complete thought - a confirmation of what you’d said, that you aren’t someone he’d like like that. Curling in on yourself, arms wrapping around your stomach, you shrink away from him, only a few inches but the distance feels so vast. 

“Let’s just forget about it, okay?” 

Mingyu’s speechless. As his silence grows, so does the space between the two of you, until you’re standing by the door, hand on the knob. He feels like he should be doing something right now, snapping into action of some sort, but his brain is still stuck on your declaration.

“Okay,” he finally croaks, because it’s clear that you’re waiting for him to speak, and he doesn’t know what else to do but agree with you, because you’re usually right and he usually agrees with you. 

“Right,” you say again, but you look slightly unsure, and it rattles Mingyu, making him feel even more unsettled than before. “Okay.” And then you open the door and slip back inside Minghao’s apartment.

Alone in the hallway, Mingyu slumps against the wall. Well. That was a spectacular failure. He’d tried to explain how their comments upset him and all he’d done was upset you. The shift in your demeanor was so obvious to him, a flashing neon sign basically screaming “you fucked up!” in blazing red light. 

He gives himself a minute to try to pull himself together, then he returns to the party. As soon as he’s inside, he scans the room, until he finds you standing in the corner, hanging out with another friend, Chan, talking and laughing like everything is fine. Which, as Mingyu feels deep in the pit of his stomach, he knows it is not. 

His previously vacated spot on the couch remains open, so he slips back into it, ignoring the curious looks of his friends. He doesn’t want to answer any stupid questions right now, doesn’t want to deal with any of their crap while he tries to wrap his head around what just happened in the hallway. 

Naturally, his friends immediately start nosing into his business.

“What was that all about?” Minghao asks, turning to face Mingyu. Seokmin and Jeonghan both twist towards him, eager to hear his answer. 

“What was what about?” Mingyu replies, eyes flitting to you again. Chan must be bringing his A game with his jokes tonight, because you’re giggling Mingyu’s favorite giggle, the one that makes your nose twitch like a little bunny’s. It always makes him swell with pride when he coaxes it out of you with one of his dumb jokes, so seeing it right now and knowing he’s not the cause of it, well, it’s not exactly helping improve his mood.

“What was that dramatic exit?” Minghao gestures towards the door. 

“It was nothing. We were just talking.” Again he looks at you. And again, your attention is focused solely on the man beside you. Mingyu doesn’t understand. Can’t you feel him looking at you? 

“Uh-huh. Sure,” Jeonghan drawls, miming the crack of a whip with his hand. Seokmin and Minghao crack up beside Mingyu, but he doesn’t care. He’s too busy trying to catch your eye. He wants to see you smile at him. Just one smile. That’s all he needs to make him feel better. 

His friends lose interest in teasing him when he doesn’t respond, and the conversation moves on. As does the evening. Mingyu bonds with the couch, not leaving except to grab refills of his drink, but otherwise he’s a fixed point in this party, unlike you, who are constantly moving, floating from friend to friend, spreading joy across the room.

Spreading joy to everyone except him, that is. No matter how much he watches you, your light never shines on him again, not like it did earlier. He knows what this is. You’re the one doing the avoiding now. And oh my god does he hate it. He feels cold and lonely, withering away, dying for your attention. For your affection. Because he needs it to thrive.

Oh. 

Oh wow, he’s stupid. The others are right. 

Kim Mingyu is whipped. 

For you, and you only. 

Like it has been every few minutes since he returned from the hallway, his gaze is drawn back to you, and this time, it’s different. Because the mask you’ve been wearing all night finally slips, and Mingyu sees the wrinkle of your brow, and the slight downturn of your mouth, and he understands. You’re just as miserable as he is.

That absolutely will not do. He needs to fix this right now.

Mingyu rises to his feet again, not even waiting for Minghao to finish the story he’s been telling, not that he’s been listening anyway, and starts walking towards you. When he’s a mere arm’s length away, it occurs to him that he doesn’t have any plan, just an urgent need to make you look happy again. And also pay attention to him, because he needs your attention just like he needs you, so he panics, and grabs your hand. 

You look at him in surprise as his fingers slip between yours.

“Come with me. Please,” he adds, a bit hasty in his anxiousness, already tugging you out of the room and into the hallway. A pair of voices follow you both out, as Minghao and Jeonghan both jeer loudly at the sight of Mingyu dragging you away, but thankfully the door drowns them out, letting only the beat of the music through.   Which would be a good thing, except that now it’s just Mingyu and a very quiet you. With your hand still in his. 

“Is everything o-”

“You are my type.” 

You start speaking at the same time he does, but he’s louder, blurting his entire sentence out before you can finish yours. Your mouth freezes in an ‘o,’ and oh, Mingyu can’t believe what a dumbass he’s been for so long. How did everyone else see it but him? 

“I just. Wanted you to know. That you are the type of person. That I like.” Why can’t. He complete. A whole sentence? “Smart, funny, gorgeous….” 

You glance away from him, suddenly shy at that last word, and it just reinforces Mingyu’s point. 

Unfortunately, it does not make it any easier for him to say what he’s trying to say.

“But you’re not just my type? You’re the person I like. Hao’s right. They’re all right. I am whipped for you.” He frowns. “Damn it, I hate it when Hao’s right.” 

That makes you laugh, a quick “ha!” that makes your eyes light up, and Mingyu finds himself feeling stronger, so he doubles down. Might as well own it. 

“But he did, he got this one right. I’m down bad.” He brings your entwined hands up, clutching them in front of him, maybe pressing his luck a little, maybe laying it on thick, but it’s barely an exaggerated version of the truth if it’s not pure simple fact. 

“‘Gyu,” you groan, rolling your eyes, but there’s a twitch in the corner of your mouth that won’t cease, and it makes his heart sing. “Knock it off. I know what you’re doing.”

“I don’t think you do.” He takes a deep breath and steps forward, backing you into the wall behind you. Your hands are caught between you, and he presses the palm of yours against his chest, wondering if you feel the spike in his heartbeat when you inhale sharply. 

“Maybe you should tell me,” you say, eyes wide but voice calm, and again, he marvels at how you strike straight at the heart of the matter, and he decides he can do the same. 

“I’m telling you that I like you.”

The next few seconds are the longest in Mingyu’s life. Nothing has ever lasted this long in the history of time. Entire civilizations are built and fall within the blink of your eyelashes. You keep looking back and forth between his eyes, and he hopes that you see whatever it is you need to believe him, and tries his best to convey clearly what he feels. Even if he’s having trouble speaking his thoughts, at least his gaze can express it. 

“You like me…” 

He nods. “A lot.” Now that he’s said it out loud, it’s hitting him just how much.  

“You like me…” you start again slowly, frowning slightly, “but you don’t like it when others point that out?” 

“I just - “ Mingyu breaks off, a sharp puff of breath exploding out in frustration. How to explain it? “I didn’t like them saying it the way they did. It… it made me feel like they were calling me weak or something.” Your frown deepens and he stumbles on. “But - but that’s stupid, and I know it’s stupid. And I - I don’t care anymore.” 

He clings to your hands, a lifeboat in a sea of turmoil, the warmth of your fingers locked between his giving him hope that this isn’t going completely downhill, this sudden confession of his. It’d be just like him to ruin this with his impatience. He’s always too eager. 

“So what do you care about?” you ask, gaze burning into his. 

And then there’s you. Always so calm and direct. God, he adores you. 

“You. How you feel.” 

As soon as the words leave his lips, you lower your eyes, in the briefest of glances at his mouth, and Mingyu feels that electric shock again, tingling all the way to his fingertips. He barely breathes as he waits for you to speak.

“If you really are whipped for me,” you finally say, “you should go tell them that.” You jerk your chin in the direction of the door.

If that’s what you want, then that’s what he’ll do. Without a second’s hesitation, Mingyu spins, his hand gripping yours to pull you back into the apartment with him. 

Seokmin gawks openly as Mingyu stomps across the room. Minghao and Jeonghan exchange a glance that last night would’ve set Mingyu spiraling, but now rolls off him like water. Mingyu comes to a stop directly in front of his friends, squaring his shoulders, trying frantically to corral his thoughts into something coherent. 

But before he can open his mouth, Minghao leans forward, placing his chin in his hand. “Shhh, guys, I think the puppy’s going to speak!” 

“Hao, shut the fuck up.” 

Minghao bristles when Mingyu snaps at him. Jeonghan and Seokmin both cackle, but then Mingyu glares at the two of them, and they fall silent. He takes a deep breath. 

“I just wanted you to know that I don’t care what you guys say about me anymore, because I like YN.” 

The words spill out of him so easily, not even the tiniest nudge needed. He glances at you to find you wearing a delighted expression and his heart goes buoyant again. He decides to ride the wave. 

“They’re amazing. I’d do anything to make them smile, so if that makes me whipped, then I guess I’m fucking whipped.” 

He’s facing you now, not caring if the others can see the obvious lovestruck look in his eye as he keeps talking, not to them, but to you. Aware that they’re probably all smirking at one another, because they figured it out before he did, but he doesn’t give a single goddamn. 

“I can’t get enough of their smile. And the way they laugh. I like how sweet they are. How honest.” Mingyu can’t stop talking at this point. It’s all gotta come out. “But never mean about it. Even when it’s something you don’t want to hear. Especially when it’s something you need to hear.” 

Your hand twitches in his with every sentence he states. He squeezes back gently as his statements get louder.

“I’m not kidding when I say I’d do anything to make them smile. I’d walk the ocean floor for them. Climb a volcano and surf the lava down barefoot. Capture a star fr-”

“Oh my god, we get it, you like them!” Jeonghan rolls his eyes. “Enough with the bad poetry.” 

“Also? We know.” Minghao snorts. “No need for the dramatic announcement, it’s not news.” 

Mingyu barely hears him, too lost in the way you’re smiling at him now. Forget his earlier rankings. This smile beats all the others. Shoots directly to the top of the list, which, now that he thinks about it, he kinda wants to write down and give to you, maybe framed. Or maybe he’ll stick it on his fridge - with a heavy magnet, of course, because it’s such a long list.

He completely loses all interest in the rest of the room, even though he’s pretty sure most of the party is staring at the two of you. Instead, he finds himself hanging anxiously on the breath you take, hoping for you to say something, to give him an indication of where things stand between you now. Because he knows you’ll be straightforward and get right to the point, whatever’s on your mind. 

You step closer, close enough for him to feel your soft laugh on his lips as you give him a look that sends his pulse rocketing. You’ve never looked at him like this before.

Forget a list. He’s gonna write a whole book. 

“Come on, whipped boy. Take me home.”

If you liked this fic, please consider reblogging! Likes do not help it get seen by other readers. 💕

© 2024 by minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost. I do not allow translations of my work.

[hookhausenschips]

Uniform {LN4}

500 Follower Special!!!

Navigation

Summary: Lando's accident in Vegas looked worse than it actually was, that however doesn't stop his girlfriend from worrying even when he is flirting with her while she's doing her job.

Taglist

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

Y/N's POV

As I sat in the fire station, the steady hum of activity filled the air. The distant sound of engines revving on the track served as a constant reminder of the high-stakes race unfolding just beyond our walls. But amidst the anticipation and excitement, there was a sense of calm in the fire station, a brief respite before the inevitable chaos of the day.

Suddenly, the shrill sound of the alarm shattered the tranquility, sending a jolt of adrenaline coursing through my veins. My heart leaped into my throat as I listened to the urgent voice crackling over the intercom, dispatch calling out for our ambulance.

"Attention all units, we have a medical emergency code 10-50 at the FORMULA 1 HEINEKEN SILVER LAS VEGAS GRAND PRIX," the dispatcher's voice echoed through the building, urgency dripping from every word. "Unit 26 needed immediately. Repeat, Unit 26 needed immediately. Time out 0056."

The familiar rush of adrenaline surged through me as I sprang into action, my training kicking in as I grabbed my gear and raced toward the waiting ambulance. There was no time to waste as I prepared myself for whatever lay ahead, the weight of responsibility heavy on my shoulders.

With each step, the urgency of the situation became more apparent, the urgency of the situation becoming more apparent. My mind raced with possibilities, each more dire than the last, but I pushed the fear aside, focusing instead on the task at hand.

As I climbed into the ambulance and the engine roared to life, the gravity of the situation settled over me like a heavy blanket. There was no room for hesitation or doubt, only the unwavering determination to do whatever it took to help those in need.

With a final glance at my surroundings, I braced myself for the unknown, knowing that whatever lay ahead, I was ready to face it head-on.

Arriving at the paddock, I saw the aftermath of what had happened. Lando had lost control of his McLaren, spinning on the straight and slamming into the wall approaching Turn 12. My stomach churned as I took in the scene, but I pushed my emotions aside, focusing instead on the task at hand.

As I rushed into the medical center in the paddock, my heart pounded in my chest. The sight of Lando lying on the bed, surrounded by medical personnel, sent a pang of worry through me. But as I approached, I was relieved to see that he was conscious, albeit a bit out of it from the pain medication.

"Hey, there," he slurred, a lazy grin spreading across his face as he caught sight of me. "I love a woman in uniform."

I couldn't help but chuckle at his playful remark, despite the seriousness of the situation. His ability to flirt even in his dazed state never failed to amuse me.

"Looks like you're feeling the effects of those painkillers," I teased gently, taking his hand in mine.

Lando's grin widened as he squeezed my hand, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "Can't help it," he replied with a shrug. "You always look so good in that uniform."

I shook my head, unable to suppress a smile at his antics. Even in moments of pain and uncertainty, he had a way of lightening the mood with his playful banter.

As the medical staff continued their assessments, Lando's attention remained fixed on me, his flirtatious remarks interspersed with moments of genuine concern.

“He’s going to be okay, right?” I asked one of the doctors, my voice tinged with concern.

The doctor reassured me that Lando’s injuries weren’t life-threatening, but they wanted to take him to the University Medical Center for further precautionary investigations.

I nodded, grateful for the thoroughness of the medical team. As Lando was loaded into the ambulance, I climbed in beside him, my heart heavy with worry. Despite his playful banter, I could see the pain lurking behind his eyes, masked only by the haze of medication.

The journey to the University Medical Center was tense, the silence broken only by the hum of the engine and the occasional beep of the monitors. Lando drifted in and out of consciousness, his hand finding mine in moments of lucidity.

“You’re going to be okay,” I whispered, squeezing his hand tightly. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

He managed a weak smile, his eyes fluttering shut once more as the medication pulled him back into oblivion. My heart ached as I watched him, wishing there was more I could do to ease his pain.

At the hospital, we were greeted by a team of doctors and nurses, all of them focused on ensuring Lando received the best possible care. I stood back, watching as they whisked him away for further tests and examinations, feeling a wave of relief wash over me.

As the hours passed, I paced the waiting room, my mind awash with worry. Every minute felt like an eternity as I waited for news of Lando’s condition. Finally, a doctor emerged from the hallway, his expression grave but hopeful.

“He’s going to be okay,” he said, his voice tinged with relief. “The concussion isn’t as severe as we initially thought, and there don’t appear to be any other serious injuries.”

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. Relief flooded through me, washing away the fear and uncertainty that had plagued me since the accident.

“He’s asking for you,” the doctor continued, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips.

Rushing to Lando’s side, I found him propped up in bed, a tired but genuine smile on his face. Despite the lingering effects of the medication, his eyes were clear and focused as he reached out to take my hand.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice soft with emotion. “I didn’t mean to worry you.”

I shook my head, tears streaming down my cheeks as I leaned in to kiss him gently.

“It’s not your fault,” I whispered, my voice choking with emotion. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

We stayed like that for a long time, lost in each other’s embrace as the chaos of the night faded into the background. In that moment, nothing else mattered but the two of us, together and safe.

As Lando was discharged from the hospital, I watched him closely, my concern still lingering despite the doctor's reassurances. But to my surprise, Lando seemed eager to get back to the paddock, his determination unwavering despite the ordeal he had just endured.

"You sure you're up for this?" I asked, my voice tinged with concern as I watched him gather his things.

Lando flashed me a reassuring smile, his eyes bright with determination. "I'll be fine," he replied confidently. "I can't just sit around and do nothing while the race is still going on."

My worry deepened at his response. "But Lando, you just got out of the hospital," I protested gently. "You need to rest and recover."

He reached out to take my hand, his touch warm and comforting. "I know, but I can't let my team down," he insisted. "They need me."

I sighed, torn between my desire to keep him safe and my understanding of his passion for racing. "Just promise me you'll take it easy," I said finally, unable to hide the concern in my voice.

Lando nodded, his expression earnest. "I promise," he replied solemnly. "I'll be careful."

As we made our way back to the paddock, I couldn't shake the lingering worry that tugged at my heart. But seeing the determination in Lando's eyes, I knew that he wasn’t going to let this setback ruin his season.

As Lando prepared to return to the paddock, a mix of determination and apprehension written across his face, he turned to face me. Our eyes met, and in that moment, the unspoken bond between us spoke volumes.

"Promise me you'll be careful," I whispered once again, terrified to let him go, my voice barely above a breath, as I reached out to touch his arm.

Lando nodded, his gaze unwavering. "I will," he assured me, his voice soft but resolute.

With a heavy heart, I stepped closer, closing the distance between us. There was a brief pause, a silent exchange of emotions passing between us, before Lando leaned in and pressed his lips gently against mine.

The kiss was tender yet filled with an underlying sense of urgency, a silent acknowledgment of the risks he was about to take. In that fleeting moment, all of our fears and worries were eclipsed by the warmth of our shared love.

As we pulled away, a bittersweet smile tugged at the corners of my lips. "Good luck," I whispered, my voice barely a whisper, as he turned and disappeared into the bustling crowd of the paddock.

Watching him go, a sense of unease settled over me, but it was tempered by the quiet confidence that together, we could weather any storm. And as Lando disappeared from view, I clung to that hope, knowing that no matter what challenges lay ahead, our love would always be our guiding light.

As the days passed and Lando recovered from his injuries, I couldn’t help but feel grateful for the reminder of just how precious life could be. In a world filled with uncertainty and danger, having someone to hold onto made all the difference.

And as we watched the next race together, our hands entwined and our hearts full, I knew that no matter what the future held, we would face it together, one lap at a time.

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

LN4 Taglist: @esserenorris, @tallrock35, @yourbane, @lightdragonrayne, @really-fucking-tired, @evie-119, @dhanihamidi

F1 Taglist: @hiireadstuff, @really-fucking-tired, @donteventry-itdude, @spookystitchery

[vbecker10]

I Don't Hate You

Pairing: Loki x female reader (y/n)

Summary: You've worked at SHIELD for years and you were severely injured by Loki when he escaped from his cell on the helicarrier. It's been a year since the attack on NY and one day you finally cross paths with Loki after a month of him actively avoiding you.

Warning: Loki being upset, Loki feeling guilty, Loki feeling like he deserves to be hated, brief mentions of Loki's torture, previous injury caused by Loki... this will have a fluffy end, promise 💚

You shift positions to get more comfortable on the couch then turn the page of your book. I might be able read this whole book tonight, you think excitedly. The Tower was quiet which was a rare occurrence, the whole team decided to go out for drinks so you have the library to yourself. After a moment, you turn the next page but suddenly you feel as if you aren't alone.

Looking up, you see Loki standing in the doorway as if he is frozen with anxiety. He briefly makes eye contact with you and turns to leave.

"Wait," you sit up, closing your book in your lap. "You can stay," you offer and he turns back to face you. "There's plenty of space," you gesture towards the other empty couch.

"I wouldn't want to disturb you," he says, shaking his head as he remains halfway between the hall and the room.

You sigh quietly, that's the first thing he's said to you in the month since you've been back from medical leave. Loki had become almost an expert in avoiding you, the closest you had come to being in the same room with him was during a briefing last week. As soon as you took your seat at the table, he excused himself and left.

He nods in response to your offer to join you but doesn't say anything. He quietly makes his way over to the large bookcases that line the wall and begins to search for a book. You try to focus on where you left off in yours but you can't seem to take your eyes off him. He seems so nervous around you and although you aren't sure what you expected from him, this wasn't it.

He selects a book and walks to the far end of the other couch, glancing towards you as he sits. You both quickly look away from each other and try to settle into your books. After a few minutes of silence he sighs and closes the book. You pretend to continue reading as you watch him return his book and begin the process of selecting one again.

"Can't decide what to read?" you ask after a moment.

He turns, his expression clearing showing that he doesn't expect you to speak to him. He shrugs, "I've read all of these..." He looks at the book he is currently holding, "Some more then a few times."

"Oh," you look at the tall, full shelves. There must be four hundred books in this room. "Wow," you react honestly.

"I read quickly," he offers a simple explanation.

"Why don't you get new ones?" you ask as if the solution is obvious.

He puts the book he is holding away and looks down at the ground, "I'm not permitted to leave the Tower unless its for a mission." He pulls a seemingly random book from the shelf and walks over to the closest seat on the other couch this time.

"Right, I forgot I guess," you suddenly feel awkward for suggesting it.

Loki was given strick orders not to leave the Tower after an incident a few months before you returned from medical leave. He had gone to a small Cafe with his brother in the morning and ended up on the news a few hours later. According to the reports you watched from rehab, he had been on line waiting for his order when a woman who lost her husband during his attack on NYC came in. She walked over to him and started screaming that he was a monster and should be rotting in a cell on whatever planet he came from. Thor tried to defuse the situation while Loki remained completely silent. Her rant finally ended when she threw some bystanders coffee at him and he left.

The two of you sit in silence for a minute then you suddenly get an idea. "Oh," you say and he looks up from the book he has no interest in.

"I think I have something that can help," you tell him. You limp slowly towards him as you unlock your phone. Sitting next to him, you feel self conscious when he shifts away from you, his eyes fixed on the metal brace supporting your leg.

His jaw tightens and his body tenses as he rubs his hands slowly together. You clear your throat, hoping to distract him from your injury and it works. He looks at you, "Here," you hand him your phone.

"What is this?" he asks.

"Its the New York Public Library," you tell him, "Well, their website at least."

He looks at you a bit confused. "What am I supposed to do with this? I'm not allowed to go to the library," he says.

"You don't need to go," you tell him with a smile. "They can bring the books here."

"I wonder why no one told you about this. They've had this for years," you say.

His eyes fill with excitement at the thought of being able to get new books. You explain the book delivery program then show him how to search for books by author, title or genre. His smile spreads as you sign him up for a library card then sit back to watch him scroll through a long list of poets.

The smile leaves his face and he admits, "I never told anyone that I had run out of books."

"Why not?" you ask.

"No one would care," he answers instantly.

When you don't say anything, he looks up from your phone and briefly makes eye contact with you. "I don't understand why you of all people would care enough to help me, to be honest. I have done nothing to deserve even the smallest kindness from you," he says as his eyes fall to your injured leg again. The joy you had seen on his face moments ago has faded completely and in a low voice he says, "I nearly killed you."

With a sigh, he nods, "I remember everyone I've hurt... or killed."

You're caught off guard by the sudden shift in topics but say, "I thought you remembered me."

"Can we just talk for a minute?" you ask, standing with him.

You gently reach out and touch his knee, causing him to jump at the sudden contact. "I'm sorry," he says as soon as you touch him. "I should go," he tells you and he gets up.

He shakes his head. "I'm not supposed to be alone with you," he admits. "Fury wants me as far from my..." he clears his throat, "victims as possible while I am here."

He looks torn about what to do but finally nods and sits down heavily. You sit next to him again but he doesn't look at you, his eyes are fixed on his hands. His knee shakes nervously and you realize he's waiting for you to lash out at him as so many people have in the wake of the attack.

"I- I didn't realize he did that," you say in shock. "I thought you were just avoiding me because of... well because of what happened."

He shrugs but doesn't respond, giving you the feeling that he might still have distanced himself from you even if he wasn't ordered to do so.

You bite your lip and say, "I'm sure Fury means well but... I just want to talk to you. If that's okay with you?"

You had imagined this moment so many times over the last year. What you would say to him and how he would react. You look at him even as he avoids looking at you and say, "I just want to to know, I don't hate you for what happened."

He shakes his head as if he doesn't believe you and says, "You should hate me, everyone does."

"I don't," you tell him simply.

He finally looks at you, a mixture of disbelief and curiosity in his eyes, "How could you not after what I did to you and so many others?"

You sigh and admit, "I used to hate you."

"But... but not anymore?" he asks.

You take a deep breath, this is the part you practiced telling him most often. "When I was in the hospital, I did hate you. I hated you more then I ever thought I could possibly hate another person. I wanted you to feel the pain and fear you inflicted on me when you were escaping. I wanted you to suffer after every surgery, after every fall I had in rehab, after every doctor told me I would never walk without some sort of brace," you tell him honestly and he nods as if he agrees with you.

You pause for a moment and wait for him to look at you again, "It was truly exhausting."

He doesn't say anything but he keeps eye contact with you. "It took so much energy to hate to," you tell him. "It was draining me."

"A few months after my first surgery, I had some of the agents I'm friends with being over your case files and I watched all your news interviews," you continue to explain.

"Why?" he asks, his voice filled with concern.

"I wanted to know if you were as evil as everyone said, if you were really a monster from another world who deserved to be hated," you tell him.

"I am a monster," he says, his eyes lowering to the ground in front of him.

His body tenses as soon as you mention Thanos's name. His eyes widen in fear and he says, "What do you know about- how could you know that? My SHIELD files doesn't contain any information about him."

"No," you tell him, touching his arm lightly and he looks up at you slowly. "You're not a monster, you're a victim of Thanos."

You fidget nervously at his reaction and say, "I... I found the restricted files SHIELD has about you, the ones with your interview-"

He gets up suddenly, his voice laced emotion but you are unsure if he is angry, hurt or embarrassed, "You read that?"

You nod, "I'm sorry-"

"No one was supposed to be able to access that. Fury said it would be sealed, that was why I agreed to tell my brother what happened," he says as he paces. He turns to face you and you can see he is holding back tears, "You shouldn't have read that. I don't want anyone to know what he did to me."

You had read all twenty six pages of the typed transcripts and listened to hours of Loki detailing his torture to Thor. He spoke about being physically hurt but also about being mentally broken by the mad titan. He lost track of time, unsure if weeks, months or years had passed while he was under Thanos's control. By the time you finished listening to his account of what happened, you had lost every ounce of hate you once harbored for him. He was more a victim than anyone.

You take a step towards him and he takes a step back, shaking his head. You reach for his hand and he lets you hold it without pulling away. "Loki," he looks at you, the first tear running down his cheek. "I'm sorry Thanos tortured you," you tell him honestly.

He shakes his head as if he can't accept your words.

You take another step towards him, still holding his hand in yours. "I'm sorry he hurt you," you say again and this time he doesn't move away from you.

"No one..." he tries to take a deep breath, "No one has ever said that to me before."

Now it's your turn to be shocked, "Not even your brother?"

He shakes his head and without thinking, you wrap your arms around him tightly. His whole body stiffens in response at first but slowly, he lifts his arms to hug you back and his body relaxes against yours. He rests his head on your shoulder and you rub his back gently.

You hold him until he slowly pulls away. Taking his hand again, you lead him back to the couch.

"You didn't deserve anything that he did to you," you tell him. When he looks at you, you can't help but raise your hand, wiping a tear from his cheek. He closes his eyes and leans into your soft touch.

He opens his eyes after a moment and quietly says, "Thank you Y/N. I'm so tired of everyone hating me. I never thought anyone would ever try to understand what happened to me."

You smile at him and quickly kiss his cheek, which is a surprise to both of you. "What was that for?" he asks, a small laugh escapes him.

He smiles and nods, "Can you do it again?"

"I don't know," you admit with a nervous giggle, "I just... It felt like something I should do. I'm sorry, was that okay?"

You smile and kiss his cheek again, "Is that making you feeling better?"

"For the first time in a very long time, yes," he says.

I hope you liked this!! Please like, share and comment if you did 💚💚

@soubi001 @michelleleewise @harlequin-hangout @ace-of-gay @xorpsbane @mochie85 @sheris532 @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @kkdvkyya @animnerd @peaches1958 @peachyjinx @lokiandbuckysdoll @winterfrostlovetriangle @high-functioning-lokipath @winniewings @pics-and-fanfics @cabingrlandrandomcrap @icytrickster17 @lokisgoodgirl @mischief2sarawr @stupidthoughtsinwriting @mjsthrillernp @holdmytesseract @lulubelle814 @crimson25 @goblingirlsarah @janineb86 @simone818283 @tonystank8 @im-briana-stan @foxherder @chantsdemarins @catsladen @alexakeyloveloki @siconetribal @lokidokieokie @dragonmurray @honeydew3064 @malfoycassimalfoy @kneelingformyloki @newtomofgods @jiyascepter @eleniblue

[astralnymphh]

neck kissing with ellie.

gif creds: elenaxnate/tumblr. short indulgent fic :P romance/fluff.

Like a bee to nectar. Kids to sugar. Sunflowers to sunlight. Your neck is a preserved pollen: captivating, entrancing—it entrances that reddish-haired beau prancing around your kitchen searching for warmth. Branches to perch. Nooks to kiss.

Dying suns encapsulate the hours she feeds; in the evenings, devotion. At your neck, a prayer.

"Wish you'd lay the work off after dinner. Told you I'd get it," she kisses you there, too sweetly.

Cheeky prayers, muffled in your ear, and more so mundane covets. To save you trouble, is her duty. To prove her fondness, is her life's dream. And you never found your place amongst her forests to learn and understand why fleeting dreams of you are what motivated her all those years ago. First at your service, then your door, then your hands, lastly your neck.

For all you know, minds assume reason, and instinct falls short of it. Now, in the resign of autumn, reason dies, and tendency prevails. Tender tendencies.

"Why not together then?" you suggest every once in a while, and your tone curls as you do, "Dishes would get done much faster with four hands."

You fail to see it, but her eyes smile. "Because you distract me," laughingly, she says.

She isn't lying; your presence abstracts her thoughts, and the threads of what she was going to accomplish tangle and fray. Be it reading, painting, or guitar— a cacophony of silvers, oaks and water will languish her focus, and suddenly phantom imagery of you and whatever it is you're doing fills her every nerve. Contemplation departs.

But she loves to distract you more.

And because her laughs are stuffed in the crevice binding neck and shoulder, you giggle too. Not because her words are ticklish, or laughable—other days, her silly dad puns are— but because all you can feel is her mouth and her teeth and her chest to your back and everywhere her hands wander and fuck is it overwhelming. Almost facetious that she is doing it intentionally. An elaborate ruse to convince you time is worth wasting.

Her intentions lie between the fangs. Amusedly love-biting.

It fosters a slight shiver, a love-cringe. "Ellie," you weakly release, and roll your shoulders up as a way to peel her off. "That tickles.."

Don't you dare, babe.

Her nips get noisier. "'Spose to.." she insists in a whisper, laying the boundaries for her lips. They creep up, and up, leaping after your shy-away. "Do you hate this?"

"So much." you quip.

"Then it's working," her breathy giggle is hot against you, and it's contagious. A sound you want to eat and nourish from. "Will this take long?" Doubt already inhabits that antsy tone of hers. "I can't wait to show you what I found on patrol. Like, seriously can't wait."

"Can the kissing wait?"

".."

"Right."

"Shut up," her brows tweak against you, mouthing sass. "Pretend 'm not here," speech dimming, her lips lower into you once more, and find reason again. They pucker, suck, and pepper across plains of damp skin gone cold. Hungrily pulling the taste of your skin through her teeth, and down her throat; soft animalism.

It never stops—she never stops. Not for the moon, not for the sun, not for breath or silence.

"You're weird."

You can feel the evidence forming on your skin already. Phantom marks she embeds so she can admire them later. Revisit and reintroduce her tongue to them in bed.

"I know."