#i wish someone would get caught up with me

[redcherrykook]

──── ๋࣭ ⭑ one time for the present ! ( a & s )

‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿

↳ part of 𝓦𝓗𝓘𝓢𝓚𝓔𝓨 ꩜ .ᐟ

❝ [ husband!Jungkoook universe] ¡! ❞

✎ summary: angry sex with your possessive husband. spanking, lil degradation (slut, cockslut, whore) , possessive!Jungkook, dacryphilia, marking, rough sex, THIS IS TOXIC YES OK. hand restraints with belt, aftercare

note from cherry: #needthat again ughhhh. i managed to write again, i hate not being able to live out my passion, burnout is real

‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿

Jealousy is an ugly emotion.

It seeps through the cracks of your secure attachment, stains it the rotten red color of anger- makes your blood run cold, your warm fingers itch for destruction. Become weapons that scratch upon the surface of your moisturized skin, open a space for your veins to release their contents.

But jealousy does not last forever.

Catching the reflection of your golden wedding ring- the bond you swore to take to your grave on the happiest day you have ever- will ever have, just its small glimmer, proceeded by the streaks of leaving gentle kisses of reassurance on it, that is sufficient to wash away the sin. Regain control of your mind- exhale, if you will.

Sometimes you wish jungkook would be jealous,

"You´re not moving until i say so" you yelp quietly at his growl, knowing the bruises on your knees are here to say once they push into the hardwood below, your chest presses straight into the side of the bed. Morals fade into the same hues of purple that surface your skin in agonizing slowness. Ruthlessly, your husband hikes up your black mini skirt, exposing the back of your thighs to his narrowed gaze,

"Fucking slut, you´re pussy´s drippin´ love pissing me off? Gets you nice and wet for cock?" he presses four of his finger flat against your cunt, roughly sliding them against the soaked cotton.

While it may seem like he is, the thing that surges his anger, makes him tick like a flicker held up to gasoline- that, it reached far too deep to be jealousy. Grabbed his heart in a caged hold no one has seen the key of, digging its daggers into every blood vessel, seeking control.

You belong to jungkook. The seams that neatly attach your every fiber to his soul, they´re tight. Unbreakable, nonetheless, he could feel them burst whenever someone else- someone without his approval, took it to themselves to linger a hand on you, friendly or not, it wasn´t theirs to touch. No one should know what your skin feels like under their fingertips, how the smooth feel compliments the gentle vanilla scent radiating from it.

"aah- please i´m sorry baby" you whine, biting an imprint of your teeth into your swollen lower lip as he spanks your sensitive skin, hooks his fingers into the lace to reveal your seashell to him, before spanking the glistening delicate vulnerability between your thighs again, twice more. The slap vibrates on your clit, thrums you with joys of poisonous excitement, the same vile wrongness that strains jungkook´s cock against his black jeans, makes his pulse quicken.

"You´re gonna be sorry baby, this body´s mine, pussy´s all mine" he gropes at you reddened cheeks with his calloused palms. Stretches and kneads the flesh as if to ground himself in your body, cement himself into every exposed patch of you- you hear him scoff, the droplet of slick tumbling between your thighs must´ve caught his attention. Jungkook´s grunts, the rough sound of leather being messed with fills up your ears- he´s taking his belt off.

"Gonna make sure you can do nothing but take how i´m gonna fuck every last drop into you, make you remember who the fuck you belong to, understand?" his words slip through gritted teeth, you become so small under his dominating presence, nod meekly at his request because the idea is simply so arousing that the attempt of talking back dies down in your throat- squeezed tightly by the utter obedience you need to give him.

Your husband tugs both your arms behind your back, holding your smaller wrists into his hand, the tension in your shoulders makes you whimper quietly "Words, need to know you´re still with me" he says, momentairly sobering up from his drunken focus, "understand" you say in that weak, submissive voice of yours - and it´s all he needs to slip back in.

Your femininely manicured hands fling into the tight enclosure of his black leather belt, wrapped tightly around the skin, far, far beyond the last punched hole. He knotted it twice, making sure it sits without a chance to budge. Twisted pleasure of your masochistic tendencies and the guilt of his actions mix with the way you seem to moan at the sensation of the smooth material restarining you. He pulls once, testing to see your shoulder blades flex, how the curve of your back gets dragged into him erotically while your hardened nipples rub against the bed.

A sight for him, him only, he thinks to himself. Truth- nasty, unrelenting truth be told, the absolute power he felt over your- his wifes- vulnerable, bruised body, knowing it was laid out in his palm to make you shiver, make you cum over and over again, sprinkle your dew of love to your promised lover- it was what he needed. Physically, mentally, Jungkook craved to possess you. Set reminders over and over again that it was soley him, the sound of his growly honey voice, the shape of his heavy cock, moulding your walls to take every thick inch- him, that could make you feel like this.

"Jungkook, s´too tight" you mumble, snapping him out of his thoughts. He reciprocates with a cocky laugh, rubbing his digits along your exposed cunt, zeroing to your wet panties clinging around your unstable knees, "Too bad, you´re little slut though, I´m sure you can take it can´t you?" he awaits your answer, pumping his stiff and leaking cock right behind your dripping entrance, the lewd noise makes you whimper, wishing you could see how good he looks with his length in his hand. "Can take it for you, only you"

Just as the last syllable leaves your mouth, he shoves his entire girth into you, wastes no time by pulling you back into him by the belt, forces you to meet the loud slaps of his pelvis connecting to you. Your husband isn´t oblivious to your manipulative undertone, giving in to what he desired to hear- you´re his. He had to show it to you again, plunge it into your system with the present of an overwhelming orgasm but- what use would it be if you knew you belonged to him? He knew, cat and mouse- you test his limits to run away, have him chase you, find punishment in the corners of mind that he´d rather lock away- keep hidden to contain the urges to a minimum. He knew you push him: just to get pushed back twice as hard.

His thrust start deep, harshly burying himself into your tightness- the warmth engulfs his senses recklessly. His narrowed eyes roll back in an instant- the pornographically beautiful sight of your arch, plump red flesh of your ass meeting his hips is alluring as much as it infuriates him- he wishes to drink in every glimpse of your body- watch his soaked cock disappear into your stretched hole- but his eyes are occupied with your spine- your bound wrists scraping the leather, your waist- he´s obsessed with the every fraction of your revealed body- with you. It belongs to him, he chants in his head- mine,mine,mine.

"Feels so good- you´re so big kook- so good to me" you stumble out, sinfully engaging in his controlling ego that longs for your praise- "Yeah? Am fucking my tight- shiit- tiny pussy so well"

It evoked something raw in him earlier that night- when your coworker Jaehyun rested a friendly arm on your lower back as you passed a group of people, your eyes instantly found your husbands. He send you a knowing glare- the line has been crossed, there was no need for a yellow card, a warning anymore. Deciding if it already came this far- you should push his buttons further. Dive deeper into the punishment you´d have to face under the tangle of your marridal sheets. The dice has been rolled. Turn to Jaehyun, smile- thank him. Almost innocently, but Jungkook knew better. Turn back to meet your husbands gaze again, find him clenching his jaw, just what you wanted. Just what had led you here- back hurting, covered in sweat that represents his utter force, driven by the very thing he tries to lock away- tries to stop from coloring his heart deep red.

"Oh fuck kook- s´too deep" you cry out desperately, a tingling burn spreads over your exhausted shoulders, dripping down the pebbled buds that furiously rub against the bed, travels down your ribs, reaches the throb of your untouched clit. Jungkook´s cock dips into you, bottoming his fat tip out before pushing all the way back in- meeting your spongey g-spot with vigour, pushes and pushes- your throat burns with the restless moans that pool out alongside your spit, decorating the corner of your mouth.

"You´re such a whore, look at you whining over your husbands cock- fuck baby, let another man touch you- he could never make you feel like this- ´could never fill your cunt like I can" The current of his anger releases into you as he leans his torso forward- connects the hard lines of his abdomen to your breakable bound arms, it crashes over you like a wave so all consuming you can´t help but want to drown in it- lose your breath to the sting of his teeth digging into your shoulder, "belong to me, tell me, you´re mine. fucking mine every inch" he commands, groans loudly as he sucks another array of purple hues into your body, his wedding ring adorned hand clasps around your strained throat, tilting your parted mouth up to be able to listen to the words sloppily roll off your tongue- "You- belong to you Jungkook- haa-ah, fuckin´ yours baby" The hint of desperation in your helpless devotion makes him bite down into your soft skin once more- he reverts back to his original position, pumps himself into your abused cunt, hands flinging to your hips, delivers another harsh slap to your cheek- ounces of his frustration flow to his head, overtake his ability to remain in control of how he fucks you, feeds every drop of his feelings for you to swallow "thaat´s right, my fuckin´ cockslut, mine- he could never fuck you like this- shiit look at those bruises baby"

Although your vision doesn´t reach the depths of your marked skin, it is impossible to dismiss the burn, the shake of your thighs giving out underneath you- the sting of his overflowing love rooted into your shoulder with his finalization of a bite imprint- you´re bounded- behind your back by your hands, by his suffocating personality that you willingly indulge in because there is no reassurance much like the awareness of being owned- held captive by a beautifully fucked up, deep red heart, one that compliments your longing to be kept treaure forever.

"Hold it f´m you hear me? you´re not coming yet" you drop your head against the bed, unable to hold up the tension any longer but it still runs down your spine- not for long, Jungkook´s hand grasps a fistful of your messy hair into his hand, yanks you back to curve into him deeper- "shiiit baby, yeah- you´re so fuckin´ good for your husband" he growls, spiraling at the softest sniffles that he barely manages to notice between loud whines of his name- but he does, somehow increases the pace of his hips pistoning into you from behind, slaps his tight balls against your swollen clit- more, deeper- he throbs and throbs, feels your walls sucking him in so fucking well because you´re clinging at the scraps of being good for him- "Jungkook fuck- please, please" you beg and the slight crack in your tearful sweetness makes him snap, he´s weak at the bottom of his knees- realizing that you have him wrapped around your finger, dignity tied to your tears, your voice, your body and fuck; every plea. "Come with me baby, so good, my fuckin´ wife, my good little slut"

There´s not much that fades into your now purified wishes, compareable to your vision spotting at the intensity of your own tantalizing orgasm, synced with your husband pulsating length that paints your walls white- hips stuttering with a prolonged groan- the remainders of your foolish plan wash away, carried by the previous roaring of his pleasure, returned to the peaceful tide- disguised as Jungkook´s hands untying the belt, his strong arms sneaking around your stiff torso.

"Ssh baby, m´here" he whispers, drawing soothing circles on the gentle softness of your stomach, his swollen lips kiss apologies into your neck, painting over the colored bruises he left in his hunger.

"I love you baby, i love you so much" the words set you down in his loving, graceful hold, he flips you around, kisses your tear stained cheeks- lifts you to bed and cradles your head to his chest- fingers massaging into the spot where he pulled you closer with rage and lust. His pure white heart aches at the scraped, red skin that lines your wrists- the leather had cut into it a bit. "Oh god sugar, i- i shouldn´t have done it so fastened, does it hurt a lot? do you wanna slap me?" he asks- seriously so with those doe eyes that swell in affection- you smile lazily, kiss his cheek as a silent acceptance of his equally silent apology. "Don´t be silly, it´s okay baby" you say, nuzzling into the wet skin of his tired neck, "I love you"

"I love you more sugar. Can i see your butt? wanna make sure it´s okay" you giggle, turn around obediently and he lets out a miniature sigh of relief.

"looks good" he says, softly grazing the aroused skin with his knuckles,

"thank you" you chuckle, rubbing your nose to the flattened tip of his own, he smiles, leans in to kiss you- sealing once again, you belong together.

[munsonsmixtapes]

I Bet it's Even Better Than in My Head

shy!rockstar!Eddie x fem!reader

Eddie performs a song for your birthday and you wonder if the two of you would have really good bed chem.

very loosely based on "Bed Chem" by Sabrina Carpenter and that one scene from the movie "Uptown Girls"

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v)

once again, special thanks to @the-witty-pen-name who helped me out a little because I was struggling lmao

“One more!” Nancy encourages as she hands yet another shot to you and you down it before slamming it down on the table. Robin hands you another one and you down that too, not even sure how many you’ve had in the few hours that you’ve been at the bar. But it’s your birthday so you can drink as much as you want, especially since your friends were nice enough to offer to pay for you. 

The three of you are definitely being too loud for the small bar but no one’s paying you any mind except to send drinks your way to wish you a happy birthday. It’s been a great night, especially since Steve, the bartender, says he has a surprise for you. That shouldn’t surprise you since he’s always been such a good friend to you. 

But what you don’t know is that your surprise has just walked through the door, guitar case in hand. He’s walking pretty quickly, but through your eyes, it’s in slow motion, the man looking straight at you, shooting you a wink which makes your heart flutter. 

And he’s just your type with the long curly hair and the leather jacket and those tight pants that make his ass look so good. He’s hot, so much so that it’s unfair, a crime, even. He’s setting up on the stage and the fact that he’s a musician is only making him more attractive. He’s checking all the boxes and now you’re wondering if you can unwrap him tonight. You’re convinced that that would be the greatest gift you’ve ever received. 

He puts his guitar strap over his shoulder before plugging it into the amp that’s towards the back of the stage. He then adjusts the mic that gives a little feedback which makes everyone cover their ears until it goes away. As soon as he’s set up, he leans forward, clearing his throat before he speaks. 

“Hello,” he greets. “I’m Eddie and I heard there was a birthday tonight,” he looks around the bar and as soon as he spots you, he smiles widely. “And what’s your name, angel?” Angel, god, it’s like he knows what he’s doing to you. 

You call out your name and now he’s full on grinning, repeating it into the mic and you swear you’re going to faint hearing it come out of his mouth. It’s pathetic, actually, that you’re so obsessed with someone that you don’t even know. Maybe it’s crazy for you to be imagining what he looks like naked without even knowing him or his name, but it’s too late now. 

“Well, this one’s for you,” he winks and begins to strum his guitar, leaning towards the mic and the most beautiful voice comes out of his mouth. He’s staring you down, trying his best to not let his eyes rake over your body, trying to be a gentleman. 

He doesn’t remember the last time he hooked up with anyone, too focused on his music career to do so. He can’t. He doesn’t want to get too caught up in something when all he really wants is to sell out a tour. He’s got his whole life to settle down. 

He can see you making flirty faces at him and just knows that it would be so easy to get him to go home with you. He thinks that since he’s been so good that he deserves a treat. It’s also your special day and who would Eddie be to deny the birthday girl? You also look drop dead gorgeous and god, what he’d give to be able to slide his hands up your skirt, to get his fingers inside-

Eddie has to close his eyes to avoid the temptation because he’s afraid of doing something he really shouldn’t. He knows the only person preventing himself from having a sex life is himself, but he still feels like he owes it to his team to not be a stereotypical rockstar who leaves a trail of broken hearts behind him.

As he finishes the song, he’s become at war with himself, his brain and heart fighting for his attention. As he’s packing his guitar up, he can see you approaching you out of the corner of your eye and fuck, is rejecting you going to be the hardest thing he’s ever done. 

“That was a really nice song,” you compliment and he can very easily tell the difference between a genuine compliment and someone trying to flatter him just to get in his pants. You seem to genuinely mean what you’re saying so he just shakes his head and turns towards you with a bright smile. 

God, you’re even more perfect up close and it’s unfair. He’s positive that this is going to hurt him way more than it’ll hurt you. But the thing is, he doesn’t want to hurt you. He wants to give in to whatever you’re asking of him because you’ve bewitched him, taken over every single thought of his and he doesn’t even know your name. 

“Oh, thanks,” he replies with a nod, suddenly feeling shy in your presence. 

“You’re welcome.” Your smile is even more flirty as you step closer to him, so close that he can just lean in and- “Can I get you a drink?” 

“Oh, I don’t drink on the job, but thank you.”

“Well, how about some water? I’m sure you’re thirsty.” Oh, he’s very thirsty, but not in the way that you’re thinking. He wants you so bad but he can’t get himself to go for it. He’s terrified if he’s being honest. When was the last time he even slept with someone? It’s definitely been months, he knows that for sure. 

“Water’s great, thank you.” You give him another smile then turn on your heel to head back to the bar, grabbing a bottle of water from Steve then heading back to the handsome stranger. 

“I’m y/n, by the way,” you put out your hand for him to shake after giving him the water. He takes it and it seems as if you both feel the spark of electricity between the two of you. Neither of you let go, though, flirty smiles on your faces. 

Eddie only lets go to take a sip from his water, still watching you intently. He then sits down on the stage and scoots over, patting the spot next to him where you sit, adjusting your skirt before you do so. 

“I’m Eddie,” he replies and you nod in response, thinking that the name suits him. He’s not like the other musicians you’ve met. He’s sweet and doesn’t expect you to just know who he is just because he’s a performer. 

“It’s nice to meet you.” You’re being so polite and it really makes him want to ask you out, but he knows he can’t. Well, shouldn’t. This is going to be the hardest thing he’s ever had to do. 

“You too.” 

“So, this is the surprise that Steve put together, hm?” You nudge him. “He knows that I have a thing for cute musicians.” Eddie blushes and he doesn’t even care if what you’re saying is a line or if you genuinely mean it, he’s eating right out of the palm of your hand. 

“Steve’s a good friend, but he didn’t tell me that I was performing for such a babe,” he winks and you swear you feel your heart melting. He’s so cute and you really hope that he’s not attached to anyone. 

You’re instantly charmed, wondering if he’s feeling the connection, the magnetic pull that’s making you want to get to know him, to maybe, hopefully get him into bed if he’s up for it. You haven’t felt this way about anyone in a long time and even though you’ve been burned in the past, you really want to go for it. 

“Do you want to get out of here, Eddie? I’ve got a bottle of wine and some records at my place if you want to join me.” The way you’re speaking doesn’t even sound like you’re really inviting him for something else so he feels like he’s allowed to agree. 

“I’d love to,” he nods and you stand up from the stage and take Eddie by the hand before leading him and his guitar towards the entrance of the bar. He can’t believe that he’s doing this, that he’s actually going home with a woman after months of voluntary celibacy. You’re just so irresistible that he can’t possibly go home wondering “what if.” 

He leads you out to his van and opens the passenger door for you, helping you into the sit and making sure that you’re situated before putting his guitar into the back with his other equipment. He then gets into the driver’s seat and starts the vehicle up, letting you give him turn by turn directions to your apartment. 

Eddie’s sure that this is the most comfortable he’s felt around anyone in a long time. You’re much better at flirting than he is, the words rolling off your tongue so effortlessly while he tries to return the compliments. You tell him how cute you think he is and now he’s now convinced that you’re the perfect woman. 

You’re confident about this. You haven’t been with anyone in a while and still managed to pull the hottest guy you’ve ever seen so you’re applauding yourself for that one. And he hasn’t even tried anything with you yet when a lot of guys would have at least tried to touch you by now. He’s shaping up to be a perfect gentleman which leads you to believe that maybe he’s a gentleman in the bedroom as well. 

You stand close to him in the elevator and he can now smell the perfume that you’re wearing, an intoxicating smell that makes you even more irresistible. He’s really glad that you’re not looking at him because his cheeks are a bright pink as he thinks about all the positions he wants to get you in, how he wants to bend you over the counter and-

“Here’s our stop,” you tell him as you slide your hand into his and pull him out of the elevator, down the hallway to your door. He stands there, taking in your beauty as you look through your purse for your keys. He lets his eyes run across your face, thinking about how he wants to kiss every inch of it before eventually stopping at your lips, saving the best for last. He wants to kiss you until you’re both breathless and your red lipstick is smeared across both of your faces. It sounds like the perfect night in Eddie’s mind. 

You open the door and lead him inside, both of you kicking off your shoes as you make a beeline for the kitchen, grabbing two glasses from the cabinet and filling them with wine before giving one to Eddie who’s made himself at home, leaning against the counter next to you. 

You both sip on your wine silently, staring at each other as the chemistry gets stronger, the sexual tension now palpable. You turn to him and he mimics you, leaning closer as he watches you. You’re both looking at each other hungrily, your wine glasses now abandoned on the counter beside you. 

You pull him closer so that his body is flush to yours, grabbing hold of his jacket and pulling him so close so you can bring your lips to his ear. 

“I’d bet we’d have really good bed chem,” you tell him, making your voice as seductive as possible and it’s working for him. 

“Bed chem?” He asks with a laugh and you wrap your arms around his waist, gently pressing him against the counter. 

“Yes,” you nod. “Bed chem. Bed chemistry.” It’s all clicking in his head and now he understands. He’s getting hard now, imagining the whole thing in his head. 

“I agree,” he nods, his hands resting on your neck, his thumbs rubbing back and forth against your jaw. His brown eyes bore into yours, getting darker with lust and now you’ve got him right where you want him. 

“God, you’re so pretty,” you tell him with a smile as you reach up and push his jacket off his shoulders and he moves away from the counter to let it fall to the floor. 

Your lips are on his in a flash and Eddie’s already addicted to the feeling of them. They’re soft and you really know what you’re doing and he’s kissing you back like his life depends on it, desperate and hungry. 

Your tongue slips into his mouth as you push your hands underneath his shirt, slipping it over his head. You’re backing up out of the kitchen, clothing coming off at a rapid rate, leaving a trail to your bedroom. 

You’re only in your underwear when you get there, opening the door with your lips still attached. You pull him inside, not even bothering to close the door behind you, kissing him with more passion than before as you feel his cock tenting in his boxers. 

Eddie pulls away though, just as you’re pushing them down. He wants to set the record straight, feeling like he owes it to you to be honest. He wants to tell you everything and somehow, he just knows that you won’t judge him. 

“I just want you to know that I-I haven’t done this in a while so I’m a bit rusty.” He feels like a huge weight lifts off his shoulders as he tells you this and your face softens, your lipstick smeared all across it which almost makes him want to laugh. 

“And that’s okay,” you nod. “This is a safe space. I hope I can do it justice. I just want to make you feel good, Eddie.” 

“I know you will,” he tells you. “I just felt like I owed you the truth.” You want him even more now that he’s told you that. Not many other men would and it warms your heart that he trusts you enough to tell you something like that. 

“You’re so cute,” you tell him as you help him lie down on the bed, lying yourself on top of him as your hands dip into his boxers, pushing them down so that you can see what you’re working with. 

He’s blushing so hard, his cheeks that adorable pink but you’re not even looking at his face, you’re looking at the huge package in front of you. 

You let your eyes rake over his entire body, taking him all in as you remove your bra, letting it fall to the floor, your panties quickly following. He’s hot, so much so that it’s actually fucking unfair. Between the tattoos and the messy hair that’s fanned out on the bed, yeah, you’re definitely fucked. 

Eddie sits up and stares at you, his mouth falling open as if he’s in awe. He has to be dreaming because no woman is actually that perfect, right?

“Do you have a condom?” You ask and he scrambles, crawling quickly over to his bedside table to retrieve one, quickly rolling it on before lying flat again, waiting for you. 

You get on top of him and start to move slowly, wanting him to get used to the feeling since it’s his first time in a while. It’s awkward as you try to get into a good rhythm , giggles spilling from your mouth and Eddie can’t help but join in, your laugh nothing but contagious. 

He’s trying his best to buck his hips against yours and you nod your head, bringing your bottom lip between your teeth as you watch him. He’s bucking his hips against yours in a rhythm that does match yours so you have to take matters into your own hands, grabbing hold of his hips and helping him. 

“That’s it,” you tell him with a bright smile and he’s giggling again, eating up your compliments. “Just like that, baby,” the term of endearment rolls off of your tongue so effortlessly and it makes Eddie’s brain feel like mush.

You continue to help him as he gets the hang of it, following your lead as best he can. You don’t know why he was so worried, he’s a natural and if he hadn’t told you, you wouldn’t have even known that he hadn’t slept with anyone in a while. 

He lets out a moan and your pace picks up just a little, seeing if he can handle just a tiny bit more. He’s already feeling he’s going to come, overcome with pleasure as you continue, still going slower so as to not scare him off. It’s nice this way, you think. Just taking your time and enjoying each other’s company. It’s giggly when you’re not moaning and as you lose your grip on his shoulders because of the sweat that’s collecting on your bodies, falling on top of him which only makes you laugh even harder. 

“Sorry,” you apologize through your giggles and Eddie’s able to catch his breath just long enough to tell you that it’s okay before you both start cackling, finding the whole thing humorous. You’d think that you both had way too much to drink but Eddie only had a few sips of the wine you gave him and your drinks from earlier in the night have worn off now. 

The laughter is just from pure happiness and you don’t know how you’re going to be able to say goodbye to him in the morning. You can’t let him leave now knowing how much fun you’re able to have with him. 

To your absolute surprise, he flips you over onto your back so that he’s the one on top. He watches your eyes widen and he gets a kick out of it, loving that he’s able to surprise you. His hands grab onto yours and he begins to pump, lowering himself down onto you as he slots his lips between yours, kissing you so slowly, trying to savour the taste of your lips so he never forgets it. 

His lips then travel down to your jaw, kissing along it as he progressively gets closer to your ear. They’re right there, hovering over the shell. ‘

“You look so pretty like this,” he whispers before bringing your earlobe between his teeth, biting down softly before pulling away. He’s more confident now as he picks up the pace just a little bit, backing up so he can see the effect his cock has on you. Every sound you make encourages him to do more, to go harder, getting you even closer to orgasm. 

And as he watches you come underneath him, his name falling from his lips, he can’t help but put on a cocky smirk because he knows he’s still got it. He pulls out and cleans the two of you up before the two of you cuddle up in your bed, bare skin to bare skin, feeling yourselves getting tired. Your head is on Eddie’s chest as he plays with your hair, his hands running through it as your eyes flutter shut. 

“I guess we do have really good bed chem,” he chuckles, which causes you to bury your face further into his chest. 

“Told you,” you nod, your voice sounding sleepy. “It was even better than it was in my head.” 

The two of you fall asleep after that, getting the best sleep you’ve ever had. And in the morning, you spend a lazy day in bed, ordering take out and spending the entire time in between your sheets before agreeing to do that very thing again tomorrow night because the bed chem between the two of you is just that good.

[httpuckdrop]

ashes – day 144

you knew jack was a good hockey player. you knew he was capable of doing great things; you knew he could win any game he wanted to if he played as well as he could.

and yet, you were surprised to get the call from him inviting you to come watch him play the final game of the four nations tournament.

not that you were surprised he was in the finals, per se. you knew most of the hockey experts, and jack himself, had called the us team as the favorites for the tournament. but you and jack hadn't even discussed beforehand if you wanted to, or could, come watch him play.

i need you there, he had whispered into your phone after his win against sweden on monday. knowing you're in the stands cheering for me always makes me feel much better.

so, thursday morning, you got on the plane to boston. you were only able to see jack for a few moments after his morning skate – just enough time to hug and kiss his cheek and wish him luck – before he had to leave for media duties and whatnot before the finals. the time off gave you time to check into your hotel and get ready for the long night ahead.

and possibly try to calm your nerves a little, too.

not only were you nervous about the game itself, but mostly everything going on around it. jack had made sure that your name was written on some list to a special box in the arena for the players' families, and just the thought of interacting with so many new people left you a little nauseous. you'd just gotten used to being around the wives and girlfriends of the devils, but jack had no teammates with him in the national team.

it didn't help that your first interaction with anyone in the box was colliding with a woman about a minute after walking inside.

"i'm so sorry-" you said instantly, even though it was mostly her own fault for walking backwards without looking where she was going.

"no worries, dear!" she exclaimed, lifting her glass of champagne to her lips as she gazed over you. "well, aren't you just a doll! so sweet i think i could eat you up." she sent you a wink. "i see why jack would fall for you."

this caught your attention. "oh, you know jack?" you asked, eyebrows raising slightly. how did she know you were here with him?

"of course! we used to date. almost a year, but who counts, right?" the laugh she lets out felt strangely forced, yet you accepted the hand that she held out to you. "i'm stacy, i'm sure he's told you about me."

not once, actually. was it because she didn't mean much to him, or because he was hiding something? if they were together for that long, surely it had to mean something to him?

just like she hadn't left you room to introduce yourself earlier, she now started talking again before you could answer her question. "how are you enjoying being with jack, dear? it must be exhausting being with someone so obsessive!"

obsessive?

"he used to be glued to my side, he wanted me with him everywhere," she said, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. "he used to call me the day before his games, all 'i need you to come to seattle tomorrow and watch me play'. so cute but so…" she paused to search her brain for a specific word. "tiring."

if you had to use a thousand words to describe your relationship with jack, not one would even be something close to the word tiring.

"and, obviously, the sex was explosive. but i'm sure i don't need to tell you that, darling," she laughed, adding a little wink in there for good measure.

when jack called you this morning, you never could've guessed that you'd be standing here discussing your sex life with his ex girlfriend.

there was something so… uncanny about her. you found yourself wondering how in the world jack could have gone out with someone so shallow and flaky – and why he was so different with you than her? was it because of him, or because of you?

the only good thing about this new "friend" of yours (one you hoped you never had to see again after today) was the fact that she had no issues dragging you around with her and showing you around. when the game finally started, she helped you find where to sit and watch; and during the breaks, she brought you with her to get drinks and snacks to refill your energy.

when the game finally ended, after longer than the other games you'd attended, you stood up in the box to watch jack and his teammates receive their gold medals. you had assumed you'd just get to see him later, when he was done celebrating with his team – but yet again, stacy had grabbed your wrist and dragged you along with her down to the ice, despite your initial refusal.

you and stacy were far from the only people who had made their way down to the ice to celebrate with their loved ones. stacy ran off to find her boyfriend, brody or brady or brock or zach, and left you all alone by the door leading out to the ice. you couldn't see jack anywhere between the pile of crying wives and excited children – maybe this was a bad idea? maybe he'd already left the ice and returned to his changing room, since you hadn't made any plans to meet here? maybe he was chatting to someone he found more interesting than you? maybe he was hoping you wouldn't be there?

just as you were about to turn around and hurry away before anyone noticed you, a familiar voice called your name, and it was like everything else quieted down; the whole world around you disappeared, and the only important thing to ever exist was now skating towards you.

"hello, champion," you said when he stood before you, unable to stop a smile from breaking free on your face.

he offered you a hand, helping you step onto the ice with him, and then he pulled you into his arms and swept you off your feet. your arms draped around his neck, sweet laughter slipping from your lips as he spun around in a circle. "i didn't know you'd come down here!" he exclaimed, giving you one final squeeze before setting you back on the ice.

"i wanted to surprise you." your hands slid down to rest atop his shoulder guards as you took him in. the massive grin on his lips, his cheeks still flushed from the game, the tips of his curls sticking out from under his winner's cap – and the gold medal around his neck.

there has never been a more perfect sight, you decided.

"was that stacy you came down with?" jack's hands found your waist, his eyebrows raised as he looked down at you. you had almost been worried that he would be upset or mad about you meeting her – as if he had something to hide, perhaps – but he was still smiling. probably the high of the win still present in him.

"we can talk about that later," you told him. "now, i want to talk about how good you were. and how good you look in your gold medal."

"no need to boost my ego," he said, swatting a dismissive hand in the air.

"i'll boost your ego as much as i want to!"

he tugged you a little closer, your hips brushing up against his. "you'll come celebrate with me tonight, though, right?"

you silently studied his expression for a while – for someone so sure of himself, someone who had just won a tournament this big, he looked almost scared that you'd say no.

like you'd ever find it in yourself to say no to his pretty, brown eyes.

"of course. there's nothing i'd rather do."

[getaapologist]

I know you love Geta's neck (and I get it too), but I have a hand kink myself, and I would love to have a touchstarved Geta with a girl who is obsessed with his hands. (But I wish Caracalla would get some love too).

Hope this will suffice!

Pour wine. Replenish empty glasses. Stand stock still otherwise. Avoid all eye contact. Do not stare at them.

This was what you were told before an amphora of sweet wine was shoved into your hands and you were thrust into the revelry, directed to the back of the room to relieve another.

They were quite thirsty tonight, someone commented.

As you approached where they sat, elevated above all others, you caught a glimpse of golden laurels before you looked down, away from their radiance lest you get yourself in trouble.

They were guests of the master of the household, a senator. Why they had to come here instead of hosting others in their palace, you couldn’t begin to guess. It wasn’t any of your business anyway. 

As you passed a small side table on one end of the long couch, you looked down at it. There were a few cups, all nearly empty. You rushed to fill them, careful not to spill. Right as you finished, a hand adorned in rings reached out, picking up one of the glasses. 

The rings were gold, large dark stones embedded in each, adorning every finger. All different shapes and sizes, they still somehow formed a coherent aesthetic. You couldn’t help yourself as your eyes traced the path of the cup in his hand. He moved it into his right hand, the wine sloshing as he let out a great laugh. 

Ruby red robes threaded with fine gold covered him, his shoulders shrouded in the thick cloth. As more laughter tumbled from his lips, he brought the cup up, his wide grin pressed to the rim, his head turning, and turning, until—stormy blue eyes, like sea glass, full of curiosity, stared back.

Feeling a chill fall over your shoulders, you quickly looked away, settling on the soft, ring-adorned hand now resting on the arm of the couch. You wondered if he’d ever worked a day in his life.

Bright eyes filled your sightline without warning, curiosity still there. You very nearly dropped the amphora, a grave mistake, to be sure. 

“More wine?” He questioned, his eyebrows lifting as he held out his cup. It wasn’t empty, but you knew better than to question him, quickly refilling the glass. You quickly continued on your way around the back of the couch, eager to leave the strange encounter. You felt flushed, embarrassed at being caught looking. 

Admiring? No, surely not. You didn’t admire anything. There was no capacity to admire when your life was work.

The other side table. Only one glass. Empty. 

Pour. Pour and do not spill. Do not look. 

Your hands were so unsteady after the encounter. So you reached for the cup, fingers brushing over the glass. 

Now pour, go slowly.

A large hand overtook yours, the heat of it travelling up your arm as the ringed fingers touched yours.

“No more.”

An involuntary response, you looked up. You were frozen in place, honeyed walnut eyes keeping you there, the dismissive way they regarded you morphing into a passing interest.

“Emperor?” The high, feminine voice shattered the stare, and his eyes darted up to appraise the woman perched on the arm of the couch. 

Sucking in a breath, you returned to yourself, hoping for the life of you that no one saw your exchange. 

Either of them.

You moved to withdraw your fingers from the empty cup, muttering an apology, dear Emperor, forgive me, but his hand didn’t move. Instead, his grip tightened, and you glanced around, as if looking for help.

“You look frightened.”

You didn’t dare look up this time, lest you get caught up again. Instead, you studied the earthy jewel tones of his rings, the stones likely carefully chosen, plucked from the earth to sit atop the fingers of an Emperor. 

Fingers that led to knuckles that led to the back of his hand. Tendons visible as his grip remained enduring, the veins passing over them standing out, blue green beneath his fair skin. 

His wrist was wrapped in a thin silver band, polished to a shine. 

Would it be cool to the touch?

His fingers pulled yours away from the cup. His grip was firm but not unwelcome. HIs palm was hot, hotter than his fingers as it pressed to the back of your hand, fingers wrapping around the side of your own palm, pulling it ever so slightly towards him. The tendons flexed as he adjusted his grip, as if he never intended to let go.

Foolish.

“Look at me.”

You obeyed, trapped at once by the sharp look he regarded you with. Surely someone was observing this, would run to tell someone that you were incapable of performing a task as simple as pouring wine. 

“What is your name?”

His words startled you, and your own name tumbled from your lips in a gasp, feeling unfamiliar.

“You belong to Thraex?”

You found yourself nodding, eyes expanding your view of him, noting the soft wave to his sunny, golden-spun hair, laurels nestled among it. The way his full, pale pink lips were slightly parted, as if he might be breathing a bit heavily himself, or readying himself to speak again.

You waited for him to release your hand, eyes falling to where he held it. He turned your hand over, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand as he inspected your palm. He might find your toughened skin, calluses, whereas his were smooth, soft, unsullied by hard labor.

“Go and collect your things. You will return with us.”

You found your voice in your shock, eyes snapping to meet his. “E-Emperor?”

The corners of his lips curled up in amusement, the glint in his eye maddening. “Would you like to stay?”

“No,” you answered without thinking.

He looked satisfied. “Good, little lamb. Now go.”

[willowsnook]

next garage over

hiiii! can I request a fic where reader used to date oscar but ends up with lando instead? tyyy <3

a/n: tbh: I hate this trope, but I tried my best

lando norris x reader

Lando Norris was currently setting off every alarm bell in your head.

After the painful breakup with his teammate, you had sworn you’d never fall for another driver. It wasn’t worth it. You had loved Oscar, but ultimately, he would never love you more than he loved racing.

As much as your dramatic heart had wished for a movie-worthy breakup scene, reality had been far less cinematic. You both knew your relationship had run its course. It hurt—of course, it did—but there were tears on both sides, and in the end, it had been civil.

A big reason for that was your shared friend group. You knew you’d still see Oscar around, and surprisingly, he had remained a good friend, just not a close one. The void he left had somehow been filled by someone else.

Lando.

Funny enough, you had grown close to him while you were dating Oscar. Now, he was the one you sent memes to at random hours. His side of the garage was where you hovered on race weekends. He was your new partner for game nights.

At first, you chalked it up to Lando being a good friend, supporting you through the breakup. But lately, it felt like something more.

You were in Monaco for the Grand Prix when Alex brought it up.

"Do you think Oscar is okay with you and Lando?" he asked casually.

You shot him a confused look as you lounged in Williams hospitality, waiting for Lando to finish a meeting.

"Okay with what? Us being friends?" you asked, tilting your head.

Alex gave you a pointed stare.

"More like okay with the fact that you clearly want to be together."

Your face flushed instantly. "Me and Lando? We're just friends. Nothing more."

"Right," Alex drawled. "Because friends definitely spend every second together. And they definitely look at each other like that. And touch each other like—"

"What are you talking about, Alex? We don’t touch each other!" you exclaimed. A passing mechanic raised an eyebrow at your outburst, and you groaned, burying your face in your hands.

Alex only smirked. "We'll see when he gets here."

You rolled your eyes, determined to prove him wrong.

Then Lando walked in.

His eyes immediately found you, and his face lit up.

"Y/n!" he called, jogging over. Without hesitation, he wrapped you in a warm hug. You melted into him, suddenly hyper-aware of every point of contact. When you pulled away, his hand lingered on your lower back, sending a shiver down your spine.

"How was the meeting?" you asked, trying to sound normal.

"Boring," Lando groaned. "I missed you."

Your cheeks burned. Out of the corner of your eye, Alex smirked like he had just won a bet.

Oscar joined a moment later, his eyes flickering to Lando’s hand still resting on you. His expression was unreadable, as if he was piecing something together.

"Ready to go?" Lando asked, snapping Oscar out of his thoughts.

Oscar blinked, nodded at his teammate, and shot you a soft smile.

Neither Lando nor Oscar had ended up on the podium, but your friends still wanted to celebrate. The club was buzzing with energy, music pulsing through the air as you danced with the others.

Lando sat back in the section your group had claimed, his eyes fixed on you as you moved.

"You don’t have to pretend for my sake," Oscar said, sliding into the seat next to him.

Lando turned sharply, caught off guard. "Pretend about what?"

Oscar snorted. "I know you like her. Everyone besides her knows you like her. It’s okay."

Lando hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don’t want to make things weird."

Oscar chuckled. "Bit late for that, mate. If it bothered me, I would’ve said something the first time you started looking at her like a lost puppy."

"I don’t look at her like that," Lando mumbled.

Oscar rolled his eyes. "Sure." He took a sip of his drink before adding, "Look, we were never meant to last. We’re better as friends. I want you both to be happy."

Lando sat in silence, processing his words. His gaze drifted back to you, twirling around with Alex and George, laughing. When you spotted him watching, you beamed and waved.

His heart clenched.

"Go on," Oscar nudged him. "Go dance with her."

Lando hesitated for only a moment before standing.

As he reached you, you grinned. "Finally decided to join us?"

"Yeah, well, someone had to keep an eye on you," he teased.

You grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the dance floor. But once there, he didn’t let go. Instead, he pulled you close—closer than before. Your breath hitched.

Alex smirked knowingly.

"What are you doing?" you whispered.

"Dancing," Lando murmured, his breath warm against your skin.

And the most concerning thing?

It felt natural. Like your bodies belonged together.

You let yourself fall into the moment, into him, moving in sync like this was always meant to happen. The music thumped around you, but it faded to the background. It was just Lando—his hands on your waist, his warmth, his forehead nearly touching yours.

And then, like he couldn’t help himself, he whispered, "I don’t want to be just your friend anymore."

Your heart slammed against your ribs. This wasn’t teasing. This wasn’t just a dance.

This was everything shifting.

You pulled back, startled. "Lando…"

Guilt crept in. Oscar was his teammate. They spent so much time together. And what if it ended the same way? Lando loved racing too. You didn’t want to be someone’s second choice again.

"I need a second," you mumbled, slipping away.

You found an exit and walked toward the pier, the cool night air helping to clear your thoughts.

Not long after, someone joined you.

"Hey," Oscar’s voice was soft. "What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?"

You smiled faintly at the familiar term of endearment. "Anything and everything, it seems."

Oscar was quiet for a moment before saying, "You two are good together. Way better than we ever were."

"I don’t want to make things weird," you admitted.

"Funny," he smirked. "Someone else said the exact same thing. And I told him the same thing I’m telling you—if it bothered me, you’d know. I want you to be happy."

You hesitated. "What if it ends up like us? What if I come second to racing again?"

Oscar flinched, and you instantly regretted your words.

"You do realize he’s been a driver this entire time, right?" he pointed out. "Has he ever made you feel like you weren’t a priority?"

You thought about it.

Lando always made time for you, even during race weekends. He called after long days, sent you memes during boring meetings, and made sure to see you whenever you were at the track.

You swallowed hard. "I… guess you’re right."

Oscar smiled. "Yeah. Now stop overthinking and go talk to him. He’s probably freaking out right now."

Right on cue, footsteps approached. You turned, meeting Lando’s anxious gaze.

"If you don’t feel the same way, I can take it back," he rushed out. "I don’t want to lose our friendship. You’re the best part of my life, and it was stupid of me to mess with that—"

You cut him off with a kiss.

His hands found your waist, holding you like he was afraid to let go. You melted into him, your lips moving in sync, your heart hammering in your chest.

When you finally pulled away, you whispered, "Don’t take it back."

Lando grinned. "Never."

[honeypiehotchner]

The Gambit (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- part eleven

Back to our regularly scheduled chaos 🫶🏻

Warnings: angst, reader is just really down on herself in this one sorry guys, Hotch being so strangely sweet for once, but then Hotch being down on himself (these two are a fucking wreck i wish they'd just TALK IT OUT)

Hotch doesn’t give you the day off after this case, but when you walk into the bullpen the next morning, you wish he had. For no particular reason other than you weren’t able to sleep, and dread seems to have made a home in your bones overnight.

And, of course, everyone notices.

“Oh,” Penelope’s frown looks out of place among her bright outfit. You hate that you’re making her frown. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” you reply instantly, flashing her a smile. “Just exhausted.”

She doesn’t seem too satisfied with your answer, but wraps you in a hug all the same. “If you need anything, come see me. Okay?”

You squeeze her tightly. “Thanks, Pen.”

She pulls back and lightly pats your cheek. “Anytime.”

Morgan comes sauntering over with his coffee, eyeing you both cautiously. “Am I interrupting something?”

“Nope,” Garcia saves you the grief, turning to rest her hand on Morgan’s shoulder. “Just telling her to come bug me when you guys start boring her to death.”

Derek laughs. “Riiight.”

Garcia heads back to her office with a flourish, something about needing to do her own paperwork to justify all the hacking she did for this last case. You dump your things down at your desk with a sigh.

You try to discreetly look up into Hotch’s office to see if he’s here. When you glance back at Morgan, you see he’s caught you red-handed. 

“Looking for someone?” he smirks.

You roll your eyes, busying yourself with putting your things away. “Is Hotch in yet?”

“Not yet, we’re the early birds today,” Morgan says, propping himself on your desk like he belongs there. “Why?”

I’m trying to avoid him at all costs, why else? “Just curious.”

Morgan hums. “Alright. Well, no, he said he was taking Jack to school this morning, so he’d be in late. You would know that if you didn’t put yourself in time out on the jet yesterday.”

You roll your eyes.

“I’m gonna start up that tally again,” Morgan jokes.

“Be my guest,” you mutter through a small smile.

Morgan goes quiet and that scares you, because you know exactly what’s coming next. Goodbye Joking Friend Morgan, hello Serious Big Brother Derek.

“Hey,” he says, leaning toward you. “You know you can talk to me, right?”

You nod. If only everyone who says that knew that you can’t. “Yeah. I know.”

“‘Kay. Good.” Derek nods as he slides off your desk, returning to his own and leaving you alone.

Reid whirls into the BAU next, nose in a book, nearly taking himself out when he stumbles into Morgan’s desk. So, a typical morning for him.

JJ and Emily come in next, coffees in hand, having run into each other again on their morning commute.

Rossi next, stopping by your desk to ask how you’re doing. He doesn’t press when you say you’re fine and heads up to his office, leaving you alone.

Then, there’s Hotch, who comes in with his phone pressed to his ear, a frown on his face. He doesn’t even glance toward the center of the bullpen as he practically floats up the stairs into his office, shutting the door.

You share looks with the rest of the team. Reid grimaces. He must’ve read his lips through the office window. He goes back to his book without saying anything.

You return to your paperwork, scanning the text. It’s necessary, and you know why you have to do it, but that doesn’t make any of it less boring.

Next to you, Emily leans back in her chair. “You should join us for coffee tomorrow before work.”

You lift your head, your eyes slowly trailing over to her to make sure she’s talking to you. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she smiles. “JJ and I always end up at the same place, we should get there a little early and have breakfast.”

“Uh, hello?” Morgan pipes up, pointing his pencil between himself and Reid. “What about us?”

Emily inhales sharply through her grin. “Sorry, girls only.”

“Alright, I see how it is,” Morgan laughs. He turns to Reid. “Hey kid, wanna get coffee tomorrow?”

“Why?” Reid asks without looking up. “The BAU has free coffee.”

Morgan sighs. “You’re not helping.”

Reid still doesn’t look up, but his lips stretch in that little smirk he always gets when he pushes Morgan’s buttons just for fun.

You turn back to Emily. “I’d love to. Where?”

She lists off the name of the cafe and then pauses, “Oh my god, I need to add you to the group chat.”

“Group chat?” Reid looks up this time. “You guys have a group chat?”

“Girls only,” Emily says again, looking down at her phone.

“Is Garcia in it?” Morgan asks.

“Duh,” Emily replies. “There.”

Your phone buzzes. Emily added you to Women Only. You snort. “Thanks.”

Garcia sends a few hearts and other emojis when she sees you’ve been added to the chat. You laugh quietly before returning to your paperwork, even though you’ve read the same line probably fifty times by now. 

The conversation carries on around you, with Reid even chiming in here and there, but you’re mostly silent. You know it’s unlike you, so you figure it’s a matter of time before one of the profilers calls you out for it.

But they don’t, because they don’t get a chance to.

Hotch calls your name from the second level. You lift your head, eyebrows raising. You find him standing just in the doorway to his office, nodding his head for you to come up.

Just great. Great.

You’re too tired to offer any protests, so you stand immediately, taking your lukewarm coffee with you as you head up the stairs. You don’t need to glance down at the bullpen to know the team’s eyes are on you.

Hotch seems to notice, too, because when you walk into his office, he draws the blinds.

You freeze in the doorway. This can’t be good, if he’s purposefully trying to prevent Reid from lipreading. He normally doesn’t bother.

“Come in,” he says quietly, rounding his desk. “Sit, please.”

You’re being fired. You’re sure of it.

Still, you shut the door, eyeing him warily as you sit across from him. You place your coffee on his desk so you can clasp your hands together.

“So?”

Hotch tilts his head. “So?”

“What’s the reasoning?” you ask. “I’m assuming I’m being transferred or terminated, whatever we’re calling it these days.”

If you aren’t mistaken, his expression seems to soften. Just barely. “I’m not firing you.”

You sit back. “Oh.”

“Why would you think I’m firing you?”

“Why would I not?” you shrug. “We don’t get along, I’ve done nothing but cause problems — that I will admit—”

“Stop,” Hotch almost looks pained as he cuts you off. “Stop. You’re not causing problems by being here.”

You stare at him tiredly. “You know I hate it when you lie to my face.”

“I’ve never lied to you,” he replies, just as tired. “And I’m not lying now.”

You’re not convinced of either of those things. “Okay.”

He sighs, leaning onto his elbows on his desk. “I know we don’t…get along, as you said, but you are a valuable asset to this team.”

“Hotch, my first two cases, both unsubs have gotten away.”

“Is that what this is about?”

You don’t know. You don’t know what any of this is about. “I guess. Look— I’m just not on top of it today. I’m tired.”

“Do you need to go home?”

You glare at him. “No. I said I’m tired, not that I can’t work.”

“Just clarifying,” he mutters, leaning back in his chair to study you. 

It makes you shift uncomfortably in your seat. You hate the way he looks at you, like he knows something about you that you don’t know yet — or that you don’t want to know. Because knowing him, he’ll say it out loud, and then you’ll have to deal with it, and you don’t want to.

You think for a fleeting, terrifying moment that maybe Rossi told him about your father, but Rossi wouldn’t. Right?

“It’s not your fault,” he starts, but he keeps his eyes trained on his desk. “That the unsubs have gotten away. We got Lila back home safely, and that counts for something.”

You hum, uncertain.

“We don’t always catch the unsub,” Hotch continues. “We help where we can, and sometimes that has to be enough.”

“It’s not, though,” you shake your head slowly. “It’s not enough.” You look over at him, that anger still simmering like always. You’re tired, but it doesn’t take much for it to spike again. “I still don’t think we should’ve left them.”

“I did what I thought was right and I stand by—”

“What if it was wrong?”

“I’m not going to sit here and argue what if’s with you,” Hotch snaps, voice firm and tone final. “I don’t have to explain my decisions to you.”

“No,” you reply, pushing yourself to stand up. “But you could at least act like you care about your team’s opinion of you.”

You get to the door before you pause, eyeing the closed blinds. You turn around as you cross your arms over your chest.

“What was it you actually called me in here for?”

Hotch barely shrugs. “I just wanted to check in with you after the conversation we had yesterday.”

You roll your eyes. Highly unlikely that that’s the only thing, but fine. “Sure.”

Hotch sighs tiredly. “Here we go,” he says under his breath.

Might as well tease him. “Just saying,” you give him a wicked look.“You better be careful. Kinda starting to make me think you like me or something.”

He scowls at you. “Go back to work.”

You’re laughing as you leave his office.

+++

Hotch stares at your coffee on the edge of his desk. You forgot to take it with you. He could call you back in here to get it. Or let it get cold and get rid of it later. Or he could take it to you.

He needs a fresh cup anyway.

He grabs his mug in one hand, yours in the other, and heads out of his office. You’re already back at your desk, laughing at something Prentiss said. Hotch feels the corners of his lips trying to tug upward, listening to your laughter. He doesn’t hear it often, especially not like this. Carefree and light. He’s used to the sarcastic, condescending laughter that you usually give him. 

His frown returns with that thought. He’ll never be the cause of this kind of laughter from you. Not as long as you seem to have him at the top of your shit list. It’s been a decade, so he doesn’t expect that to change.

Shaking the thoughts away, he heads down the stairs to drop your mug off on your desk with a silent, “You left this,” like he did with your jacket just over a week ago.

He doesn’t hear you say anything as he strides past you and everyone else to the coffee machine at the edge of the bullpen. 

Hotch loves his team for many things. Their subtlety is not one of them.

He can hear them whispering, all trying to figure out what you and him discussed and why the blinds had to be drawn. None of them believe you when you say it was nothing.

For what Hotch had originally planned, yes, the blinds needed to be drawn. He wanted privacy to ask you about your father.

But how was he supposed to bring up your father when your first thought was that you were being fired? When your first thought is that you’re doing more harm than good by being here?

Regardless of how much pleasure you seem to find in pushing his buttons, he couldn’t let a member of his team go without addressing those kinds of thoughts. You’re a valuable addition to this team. If you weren’t, you never would’ve been hired by Strauss, let alone by him.

It’s bad luck, sure, that these last two cases haven’t ended the way they’d like. But that’s no one’s fault, and certainly not yours alone. It just happens. They can’t save everyone, solve every case quickly and easily. Nothing is neat and tied in a bow in this field. He needs you to understand that. Because if you don’t, you won’t survive. 

And he needs you to survive.

Hotch turns around to head back to his office, pausing to raise an eyebrow when his team scrambles cartoon-style to “act natural” — as if he has no clue they weren’t watching him.

He loves this team, he does. He shakes his head as he walks around them.

He feels your eyes on him, though, as he ascends the stairs. He glances down at you and you avert your eyes masterfully. If he didn’t know you so well, he wouldn’t have known you were watching him.

Hotch is too busy looking at you to notice Rossi has stepped out of his own office, and the older man gives Hotch an equally skeptical look when Hotch nearly crashes into him.

Rossi follows Hotch into his office, shutting the door behind him.

“What’s with all the secrecy today?” Rossi asks, gesturing to the closed blinds, tugging one down with a smirk as he makes eye contact with Prentiss. He lets it snap back into place.

“Nothing,” Hotch replies, settling back down at his desk. “You can open them.”

Rossi doesn’t.

Instead, he stands in front of Aaron’s desk, hands shoved in his pockets. “Did you tell her?”

“She’s still here, so obviously I didn’t,” Hotch mutters, looking up at his friend. “Why?”

“Just curious,” Rossi says, turning to open the blinds.

Unsurprisingly, the entire team, except for you, is caught in their attempted eavesdropping. Rossi laughs as he turns back around to face Aaron.

“Warn me before you do? I’d like some time to prepare to get out of here before you get a chair thrown in your face,” Rossi says.

Hotch stares at him. A chair will be the least of his worries when he eventually confronts you.

His eyes flick to you down in the bullpen, focused and content, swatting Morgan away when he tries to toss balls of paper at your head. Hotch doesn’t want to ruin this, the joy you’ve found here. 

But ever since the first day you met, that’s all Hotch has known how to do. Say the wrong thing and make you hate him. Over and over. 

It’s no wonder you push his buttons so much and fight so hard to get under his skin. It’s not like he can’t understand. It’s a vicious cycle with the two of you, and there’s no way out.

At least not one where no one gets hurt.

[slippinninque]

🖇️From over the Cubicle Wall🖇️

In which a coworker ships it

Terry Richmond x black reader

Warnings: none really, short fic, had to get this out so it may need some edits

“You know what…I ship it.”

“What, the slides? You got the label printed out?”

“Girl, no! I’m talking about Robin and Starfire over there!”

Emma looked blankly at her cubicle mate for a moment, the other scoffing and returning to her silent watch in the meanwhile. Now, it was clear that her coworker didn't take her HBO Max binges seriously but there was something more pressing at hand.

Terry was guarding the last muffin for you.

So far Heather, Mike, and Cameron have been fended off. The craziest part was that Terry wasn’t sweating them at all. He only politely moved away the platter as he told them that you went to the restroom. It was a lie. You were being held up in the meeting that was already 5 minutes over–

Emma’s voice was suddenly beside her ear, “Mia–

Mia jumped so hard that she jostled her desk, sending her hard-ass water bottle clattering onto her decoratives and stapler. She suppressed a squeal as the sound echoed through the office, Emma abandoning her to find refuge on the other side of the cubicle.

Neither one of them moved.

Emma put her head into her hands, aimlessly moving her mouse in case they could track that shit. The urge to laugh nearly strangled her, but they had to recover. She looked over to Emma and saw her back was turned, shoulders shaking as she thumbed through a near-fresh legal pad.

A few minutes passed and Mia swore she could hear the douche before he appeared. Kyle sauntered down the way with the click of his knock-off designer shoes peering over suspiciously at their cubicle before going towards the kitchen.

This time, Mia could hear Emma’s stealthy behind coming, “Now what were you trying to say?”

“I sai–”

The sound of ceramic slamming caught their attention. Emma peeked over her wall in time to see Terry’s arm moving from where he pulled the muffin platter closer to himself to block it from Kyle. Kyle put his hands onto his hips, flapping out his stupid little jacket like it meant something.

“It’s her muffin.”

Kyle waved his hand in the air, “Sunshine isn’t going to mind it–

“I mind it. You’ve already eaten the other two. This one is Sunshine’s.”

Emma matched Mia’s dropped mouth, the two of them flapping their hands at each other. Terry Richmond called everyone by their names. Last names mostly, aside from those who he could tolerate.

“Terry, if you want to be Sunshine’s favorite–you should probably try being a little nicer. Like me, for example! Did she ever tell you that she was a mentee of mine?”

Mia and Emma exchanged glances. That was around the time the two of them were hired in, long enough to be trained and sent off before their juniors were hired a few weeks later. They were told that Kyle had a nasty habit of rock throwing when nobody was watching, so it was best to stay out of his way. It didn't take long for them to figure out that something happened between the two of you.

Terry’s voice was all ice and snow, “She’s told me all of it, be assured I’m aware of your…work ethic.”

“Oh, she has? Erm, is that right?”

Terry simply stared at him.

Kyle wilted a bit, chuckling awkwardly before he rubbed the back of his neck and Emma distractedly moved her mouse, eyes fixed in the floor to listen as hard as she could.

“Man, I wish someone would have told me it was. Zoom meeting—oh, good morning, Kyle.”

Mia watched raptly as Terry, without breaking eye contact with Kyle, handed you the muffin. You smiled down at the pastry and Mia’s heart sang for you, Emma cooed softly next to her.

“Oh, man, this is the perfect start to the second half–thank you, Terry!”

With your prize, you went further into the kitchen to grab your lunch from the fridge. Mia hurried to sit back down as Kyle stomped off. She turned and met Emma’s eye who was holding a hand over her heart, as she nearly whispered.

“Oh no…”

“What’s wrong?”

“I ship them too…”

----------------

✨Ending notes:✨ This has been rattling in my head for a while and I needed to make room 🥹 I had to get this out of I was gonna go crazy tbh😗 I'm trying to get back into the swing of things creative but it's been a challenge. Thank you to all who still check in, it means the world to me! TYSM for reading and ilysm💕💖✨

💖Taglist:💖@megamindsecretlair @sageispunk @blackerthings @notapradagurl7 @theereina

@brattyfics @chaithetics @kindofaintrovert @educatorsareslutstoo @miyuhpapayuh

@kindofaintrovert @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @ms-angiealsina @flydotty @hunnishive

@mysecertdiaryofableedingheart @blowmymbackout

[folkwhoreberry]

Heyyy! I hope ur feeling well, and that you have fun on ur holiday! If you write for women, I would really appreciate a Piper McLean x reader but if not, maybe a fluffy enemies to lovers Percy Jackson x reader?

Thin White Line

percy jackson x reader

or... the one where the eros children live up to their name

word count : 963

warning : mm none as far as I remember, english is not my first language!!

on the radio : don’t blame me by taylor swift

🔱🌊

valentine’s day at camp half-blood.

what a stupid idea.

and the worst thing?

everyone were paired with someone else randomly.

stupid eros kids.

so, here you were, with all the rest of the children at camp, sitting in the arena that’s currently being used as an assembly hall, wishing that the ground beneath you would swallow you.

because there is no way that percy, the arrogant, irritating, hero-like, bastard, poseidon’s son, somehow was paired up with you, his enemy, someone he’s despised from the beginning, just to keep chiron and mr. d happy?

you glanced at percy after your names were announced, who was already looking at you with a raised eyebrow, a smirk pulling at his lips. great. just great.

you both approached each other reluctantly, standing side by side as the rest of the names were read out. “guess we’re stuck together,” percy said, his tone light but his eyes challenging.

“looks like it,” you muttered, crossing your arms. the thought of spending the whole week with him, doing these ridiculous games, was enough to make you groan.

——————

the first game was a simple scavenger hunt, where each pair had to find various objects hidden around camp. you and percy had barely spoken since you were paired up, but the silence wasn’t exactly comfortable.

“I’ll take the woods, you check the cabins,” percy suggested, already turning to leave.

“wow, team spirit,” you shot back sarcastically.

he paused, glancing over his shoulder. “look, we both know we’re not thrilled about this, but we might as well try. unless you want to spend the whole week arguing.”

you gritted your teeth. “fine. let’s just get this over with.”

the scavenger hunt wasn’t as bad as you expected. you and percy split up the tasks and, surprisingly, worked pretty efficiently. when you met back up at the big house, he had a couple of objects tucked under his arm, and you had the rest in your hands. you didn’t acknowledge it, but it felt… easy, in a way. you weren’t used to things being easy with percy.

the rest of the week went on like that. each day brought a new game - three-legged races, obstacle courses, even a baking competition (which ended in a flour fight). and though you both started off awkwardly, with each passing day, it got a little better. the sarcastic comments didn’t sting as much. the silence between tasks wasn’t as heavy. you caught yourself laughing once when percy made a particularly bad joke, and you quickly tried to hide it, but you knew he’d noticed.

“was that a smile, y/n?” percy teased as you walked back to your cabin one evening after yet another camp game.

“it was a grimace,” you said, trying to keep your voice flat, but there was no real bite to your words.

he grinned. “right. of course.”

you couldn’t deny it anymore - spending time with percy wasn’t the worst thing in the world. in fact, the more time you spent with him, the more you realized that the things that used to irritate you about him weren’t as bad as you’d thought. sure, he was still a little too cocky for your liking, but there was something else there, too. beneath the arrogance, percy was… kind. he was patient, even when you snapped at him, and he had this way of making you feel like you could do anything. you hated to admit it, but maybe you’d misjudged him.

by the last day of the week, the tension between you and percy had shifted into something else - something unspoken but definitely there. the final game was a camp-wide capture the flag, and you and percy were, once again, on the same team. this time, though, you didn’t mind it as much.

“you ready for this?” percy asked as you both crouched behind a tree, waiting for the right moment to make your move.

“as ready as I’ll ever be,” you replied, glancing at him. his face was serious, focused, but there was a softness in his eyes when he looked at you.

“I’ve got your back,” he said quietly.

and you believed him.

the game was intense, but you and percy worked together like a well-oiled machine. it was almost funny, considering how much you used to argue. by the time the game ended, you were both breathless, laughing, and standing victorious with the flag in your hands.

“we did it,” percy said, grinning at you, and for once, you couldn’t help but smile back.

“yeah, we did.”

as the sun set over camp, you found yourselves walking by the lake, the air warm and quiet. neither of you spoke for a while, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. it was… nice.

“this week wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be,” percy said after a long pause, his voice soft.

“yeah, same,” you admitted, kicking a rock by your feet.

he glanced at you, his expression serious but gentle. “you know, I always thought you hated me.”

“I thought you hated me too,” you replied, meeting his gaze.

“maybe we were both wrong,” he said, a small smile playing at his lips.

you felt your heart skip a beat, and for the first time, you realized just how close you were standing to him. you didn’t hate him. not even a little bit.

“yeah,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “maybe.”

and in that moment, with the setting sun casting a golden glow over the lake, you knew that the line between love and hate was thinner than you’d ever imagined. because as percy leaned in and pressed his lips to yours, you realized that somewhere along the way, you’d fallen for him.

and, honestly, you didn’t mind one bit.

————————————————————————————

a/n : sorry for not writing for piper ml:((, on the other hand you’ve been blessed with one hell of a hamilton reference !!

[eternalbuckley]

Risked Reputation. — lorenzo berkshire

SUMMARY: You and Lord Berkshire have found yourselves in a rather improper and intimate situation while trying not to get to caught because it could ruin your reputations.

word count: 2,197

genre: smut | fem!/afab!reader, queer!reader, bipoc!reader and plus-size!reader friendly

warnings/tropes: 18+ MDNI, a part of my lady!reader au, might contain slight dubcon elements (i guess), fingering, kissing, you're outside at a ball (in public but alone), it‘s probably not completely time accurate but who cares!, english is not my first language, briefly proofread — if I forgot something, please let me know!

a/n: i‘m so happy to publish my first work for this reader au and for enzo!! enjoy reading my loves 💓 reblogs, feedback and comments are highly appreciated and welcomed! ♡

disclaimer: please do not repost or try and take ownership of my work or post this anywhere without my consent. i don’t give you my permission to use my writing for any ai related things, don’t do it. do not translate my work and post it anywhere — i give you no permission to do that. i only post my stories here, so if you find my work anywhere else please let me know!

divider by cafekitsune

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ navigation | harry potter masterlist | my taglist

“Lord Berkshire, are you truly implying that I lack the courage to take such a risk?” You raised your eyebrows with a gasp while walking beside your companion. Your hands were clasped over your chest as you scoffed playfully.

He hummed and nodded, “I speak solely in truth, my Lady. Am I not?” A grin appeared on his lips as he continued to walk next to you. His hand brushed against your arm for a short moment – which gave both of you slight goosebumps but neither of you commented on it.

You turned your head towards him and stopped in your tracks, which caused him to stand still as well and look you up and down for a brief moment. This did not go unnoticed by you. A smile graced Lord Berkshire’s lips, prompting you to look down with a small smile of your own. The pearls of your gown sparkled in the moonlight, while a gentle breeze rustled through the trees.

You playfully rolled your eyes and continued to walk on the path of the gardens you walked together. “Well, I do recall that it would be quite improper if we were to be discovered alone in these gardens. Or am I wrong? Should we be seen in this moment, it might already be presumed that we are acting inappropriately. Is that not risk enough, my Lord?” You stepped closer and raised your chin while you let your hands drop to the side of your body. “If I take one more step closer and someone happens to watch us from the wrong perspective…”

“It might be assumed that our lips have touched, though, in truth, they have not,” Lord Berkshire finished your sentence with a sudden hoarse voice, but his confidence and cockiness were still present. His gaze dropped down to your lips before it found your piercing eyes again. “What a scandal it would be.”

“Indeed, it would,” you whispered and parted your lips. A familiar ache between your legs made its presence known. Whenever you were in his presence your thoughts weren’t proper.

With a shaky breath, you stepped away from him, but you wished you could just feel his lips on yours for once. You wished to feel his hands on your body while they caressed your skin. Or to feel his lips travelling down to your jaw and neck. A fantasy that filled your mind too many times, especially at night while you lie wide awake in your bed and hands between your thighs. As you imagined him with you.

Your cheeks grew hot as your mind travelled to those thoughts. With a clearing of your throat, you turned around to continue your walk with the Lord and he immediately followed you. Only if you knew that he had the same thoughts as you.

The music from the ball inside the building became quieter as you continued to walk further away. Your hands brushed against each other as you walked closer to each other the more you walked away. In privacy, you were able to be closer, even if you were still in public. It was still a risk, even more so now that you were completely alone as you walked between the trees at the lake's edge. It may be less likely to get caught by someone else, but the risk was still there.

With every step you took and every brushed hand, your breath caught in your throat even more. Your breaths became deeper as you tried to listen to his words. But the moment you stopped at a gazebo and stood close to each other; all you could focus on was the way his lips moved as he talked. Lord Berkshire looked even more handsome in the mixed light of the moonlight and lanterns of the gazebo. His voice was soft as always, but you wished he’d stop talking and kiss you. He may just be courting you, but you wished for nothing else at that very moment.

“My Lady? Is there any matter that troubles your mind?” His question brought you back to your senses.

You cleared your throat and blinked quickly. “Y-yeah, uhm... No everything is well, my Lord.” You looked away from him for a moment to calm yourself down, but the same thoughts troubled your mind again as soon as your eyes met his.

“What are you thinking about?” Lord Berkshire asked you and stepped closer. He noticed how your breath hitched and how your eyes had been focused on his lips rather than anything else. He tried to bite back a smirk as you shook your head. “I should not tell you, my Lord.”

You gasped lightly when you suddenly felt the pillar at your back. You felt the warmth of his body as he stepped closer – one more step and you would feel his body against yours. You knew you should stop him right away, but you couldn’t.

“My Lord… We…” You shook your head and closed your eyes when he leaned down to your ear. “You may call me Lorenzo, my Lady.”

You inhaled shakily and slowly nodded. “If someone sees us, we…” You placed your gloved hand on his chest and pushed him slightly away from you – unsure if you should let it happen or not.

“I know of the possible consequences, my dear. But would you take the risk?” His question caught you off guard. “Do you wish that we stop or that we continue? The decision is yours. However, I do not believe you would be so bold to take such a risk.”

Lorenzo exactly knew what he was doing, and it seemed to work. Over the time he courted you, he got to know how to get you worked up through little allusions and every time it worked. He may have been already planning to propose but he wanted to feel the thrill. The thrill of possibly getting caught in such an improper situation between two unmarried people who shared such affection.

You narrowed your eyes and looked up to him, you stopped pushing him away and scoffed. “I already told you, I do not shy away from risks, my Lord.” The use of his title rather than his first name was intentional by you.

“Are you speaking the truth, my Lady?” He raised one eyebrow and brushed his hand over your arm.

You had each other where you wanted, but would you truly take the risk to possibly get caught?

Without thinking you pulled him in and kissed his lips. Both of you hummed in sync as you explored each other’s mouths and hands travelled over your bodies. A light moan escaped your lips when he pulled you closer by your waist and deepened the kiss. His lips travelled to your jaw and placed tiny kisses up to your ear. The feelings you felt in that moment were much more exciting than your fantasies.

“Have you ever thought about this? How my lips would feel on your skin?” Lorenzo whispered in your ear and traced his fingers down your arm — leaving you in shivers. Your breath hitched when you felt his hot breath against your skin and kept eye contact with him while he spoke. “How my hands would feel on your exposed skin? Did you ever think about these fantasies?”

You slowly nodded as you let him continue and your mind began to blur slightly – you wanted this. He continued to place kisses on your jaw, and a few landed on the side of your neck. You closed your eyes and wished for more. You slowly grew impatient but appreciated that he took his time. All you wished for was that nobody would see you in the dim light of the gazebo – your life would be over otherwise. Seen with another person? A gentleman? Alone? In such an intimate moment? Yeah, your life would be over immediately. But the thrill only heightened your excitement.

“Do you want me to continue?” Although he may have done it intentionally to provoke you, he didn’t wish to act against your will.

You were unsure if you should continue, as you were still in public, but your mind grew hazier with each kiss and the closer you were to each other. As soon as you nodded slowly, he let one hand glide down your gown and gently pushed up the layers of fabrics of your gown and underclothes. You raised your left leg and shivered at the contrast between the fresh air and his bare hand against the heated skin of your thigh. He gently brushed his fingers over it, teased the hem of your stockings and eventually drew small patterns on your skin that gave you goosebumps.

A soft gasp left your lips when his hand cupped your heat – your arousal coated his palm. You steadied yourself and grabbed one of his arms with one hand and with your other hand, you grabbed the railing of the gazebo while he explored your wet folds and teased your entrance – you only got wetter the more he continued.

Your gaze found his – you shared your breath and dilated pupils met each other while his fingers circled over your clit and brought you close to your climax. You were already familiar with the feeling from past explorations with yourself but feeling this because of him felt even better and you didn’t want him to stop. Even if you weren’t completely sure for how long you should continue. Your gasps grew louder and turned into soft moans and whimpers as he eventually pushed a finger slowly into you. Your head fell back as he started to move his finger inside you – your grip on his arm and railing got tighter. He enjoyed the view of you way too much.

“Oh god,” you gasped softly and quickly removed your hand from the railing to put it over your mouth to quieten yourself. His grip on your waist was tight while he held you close against him. The feeling of his lips against your neck brought you almost over the edge – it was an overwhelming but beautiful feeling.

Lorenzo felt his trousers getting tighter around his cock, he gulped and tried not to moan at your sight and sounds, but you looked and sounded so heavenly. But a moan escaped his lips, nevertheless. You were like an angel brought to him while he pleasured you with his hand. He already loved to hear your voice and even more, to hear you laugh but your gasps and moans were just as beautiful, and he wanted to hear them again all his life. He could only imagine how you would sound like if he could feel your walls around his cock.

“You sound so beautiful, my dear,” he whispered with a hoarse voice in your ear. His breath was hot on your skin.

Lorenzo increased the movements of his hand after he added another finger – stretching you slowly. Your grip on his arm tightened with the increased movements and a soft gasp left your lips while you moved your hips against his hand. Which caused you to whimper as the added friction unknowingly gave you more pleasure.

Lorenzo gently removed your hand from your mouth and placed a kiss on your lips while he circled his thumb over your clit and curled his fingers inside you – hitting the sweet spot inside you that made you arch your back against him. Eventually, his movements made you come around his fingers and moan into his mouth – your legs shook slightly from the intense pleasure. You felt like you were floating while he fingered you through your orgasm. Lorenzo licked his lips as he watched you coming down from it and how your chest moved quickly with every shaky breath you took. The risk was worth any price.

“That was...” You whispered with a shy smile, “Amazing.” Your chest was still heaving from the moment you just shared with Lorenzo.

He smiled in return and placed another small kiss on your lips before he eventually slowly pulled his fingers out of you, which caused another whimper to leave your lips. In the dim light of the moon and lantern, you could see your arousal coating his fingers – the skin of your cheeks heated up again with the sight of it.

“My Lady… You’re indeed full of surprises,” he chuckled, which caused you to playfully hit his chest. “There are many things left to discover. And… You may call me by my first name as well, Lorenzo.”

“As you wish Y/N, it’s an honour for me to call you by your first name,” he smirked before he looked around for a brief moment. “We should head back to the ball,” Lorenzo whispered with a soft voice while he helped to fix your clothes, “Not that anyone misses us,” he grinned mischievously.

Lorenzo was careful not to use his hand which he used to pleasure you. He didn’t want to ruin your gown, although he slightly did wish someone would notice what you and he had done. But what if you both weren’t careful enough and someone had seen everything you did?

[boxoftheskyking]

What Is Up With The NEA

There's a lot happening the US, and it's fine if the things in my specific corner have not caught your attention. But I want to let Tumblr know a bit about this in particular since a lot of folks I know here are artists.

Honestly I'm also getting annoyed with random people telling me and my coworkers what to do without actually knowing the deal. I'm not a grant specialist but I know more than the average citizen about this

What's the NEA: The National Endowment for the Arts gives money to arts organizations and projects in the US. It is federally funded (meaning the money is allocated on behalf of the American people). I work for an org that has received NEA funding for many years.

Very few orgs get the majority of their budget from the NEA, but if you do get NEA funding it gives you a certain level of "legitimacy" that makes it easier to get other funding.

(there's other arts funding that comes from federal $$ in different ways, but I'm not talking about that right now)

What happened: NEA announced everyone who is receiving 2025 grants from them back in December 2024. We have not signed a contract or received any of the money yet, but the information was made public (and went into our budget planning)

A few weeks ago, in response to various Executive Orders, the NEA has changed their rules and directives. Now, anyone who receives any amount of NEA funding cannot engage in programming or activities that "promote diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI)" or "gender ideology."

But if it's not a large percentage of your budget, can't you take their money and use it for "approved" activities while doing DEI stuff with different money?: No. If you sign a contract and take NEA money, you are saying that none of your activities as an org support DEI or "gender ideology," whether or not NEA money goes to them. Even more sinister than that, it's required that any sub-contractors (anyone you pay) also fit their new criteria. So we couldn't pay any artists, contractors, staff, etc who "do a DEI or do a gender" either.

Can't you just use different terms and still do equitable work?: No, I wish it was that easy. We don't define what these things mean, the NEA and federal government will determine if you are in or out of compliance. If you take the money, they require that you come up with new reporting systems to "prove" that you are in compliance.

Now, who is going to be checking up on things since they are firing all the people in every department? Who fuckin' knows. It is all intentionally vague and threatening. Apparently Julianne Moore's book about freckles is "too DEI" so genuinely anything can fit their new criteria.

So you're just at risk of paying the money back? Be brave and try taking it anyway!: If someone at my org signs the paperwork and takes the money (and you can't get the money without an individual signing), we must comply with these rules on penalty of perjury. So a staff member at my job could get arrested and charged with perjury if we take this money and the federal government sees an actor we hire "do a gender" or thinks that a performance that happens in our building is "too DEI." For us, the money is not impactful enough to risk this.

Additionally, all of our non-profit status comes from the government, so if we agree to government rules and then "commit perjury," they could potentially come after our nonprofit status. We cannot exist without that, there is no easy way for a non-profit to just magically become a viable for-profit company at the snap of a finger.

Why would they do this: I mean they suck and want to silence anything but their own right-wing propaganda. But also if no one applies for this funding (even if they created the conditions where most orgs can't receive funding), they can get rid of the entire NEA and any federal arts funding because "no one wants it"

Wow this sucks what do I do: If you have the funds, contribute to arts orgs that are standing up and turning down NEA funding. If you don't, sign up for their newsletters, engage with their programming, share it with your friends, let your artist friends know which organizations are protecting their right to free speech

Jay are you losing your job?: right now, no. In the good news, many arts orgs that are taking a stand and publicly rejecting these funds and the strings that come with them have gotten some really great support from individuals. Does it make up the full gap in funds? Not yet, but $5 from an artist who believes in our values means more than any $30,000 that means we have to betray our fundamental purpose for existing.

We will have to cut and shrink some programming. I don't get paid a lot and that's not about to change. But we have plans to keep existing

If you specifically want to support my org, DM me and I'll give you info. I love my org but I also live my tumblr anonymity lol

The end

Thanks for reading this long post. I'm getting real tired of a bunch of armchair quarterbacks in my work email telling me "It's not that bad, just do this [incredibly basic thing that you would know is not possible if you just READ THE FREAKING INSTRUCTIONS]!" I appreciate your patience.

[ihaznoclue]

Hiiiiiii can I request a movie shadow x reader? Where the reader one day comes home pretty injured due to a run in with something. And we get to see shadow perhaps play nurse? And help to bandage and calm the reader down?

That would be so cute to see Shadow taking care of us

Pairings -> Shadow the Hedgehog x Reader

Warnings -> Injuries, Violence, Toxic Ex, swearing

Note -> Reader seemed to run into their toxic Ex while on a evening walk, they come back home to be completely injured and Shadow didn't like that so he heals you back to health

Genre -> Angst to Fluff

Shadow The Hedgehog

Today was not a good day to go out to go shopping

You just wanted to shop for some groceries

But instead you accidentally bumped into your toxic Ex that would abuse you from the smallest mistakes

You thought you got away from him

You thought you were safe from him and his actions

You tried to run when you first spotted him but he instantly saw you and he yelled out to you

"OI Name come over here right now!"

Oh no what do you do?

Run? no he's too fast for you

Find someone? No he would lie about the whole situation

What if he changed, what if he wanted to apologise to you after everything he did

You turned around as you noticed him walking over to you with a innocent smile of his face

He always did that when you guys were out in public so no-one knew

Oh God you wished Shadow came with you

You prayed that he wasn't going to do anything

You hoped he wasn't going to do anything, you body healed from those injuries you got from him and you hoped you wouldn't gain new ones

In a instant, he roughly grabbed onto you as he started to drag you away

You struggled, your voice was too caught up in your throat that you didn't have enough time to yell out for help

He then slammed your body into a wall where no-one could see you both

"You thought you could run away from me you little shit"

"n-no"

"Answer me when I'm talking to you!"

You knew you were going to get a bruise on your arm by how tight he was grabbing you

"No!"

"Oh so you think you're safe huh?"

You didn't want anything to happen but it did

You suddenly now had blood dripping from your lip, some bruises of your arm and some on your legs

You also did want to see the bruise on your neck

Before anything else could happen, someone saw what was happening and yelled out

"HEY WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING TO THAT POOR THING?!"

That's when he ran away

The lady was kind enough to stay by your side until you got home, see told you to rest as much as you could

You thanked her as you opened the door

You hoped Shadow wasn't going to freak out about all this but it was for the best

"Shadow, I'm home!" Your voice cracked

You heard his footsteps coming, then you heard a thump

Looking at him as you saw that he dropped something on the floor

You were about to say something until he spoke up

"What the fuck happened to you!?"

"Run into my Ex, don't worry a kind lady helped me walk home"

That's where you are right now, in bed while he patched you right up

Placing some ice on the bruises to heal a little bit quicker and hoping it helped

Shadow was now going to stay by your side form now on

Whenever you were gonna go out, he was now going to come with you even on the slightest trips

Now you were resting, as shadow sat beside you as he watched you sleep

Brushing some hair away from your face as you inhaled a little

His ear flicked as his nose twitched

"I'm so sorry for not coming, but for now on I'm going to protect you as much as I can"

Sorry if It's a little too Angsty

-A<3

[pumpkinsplicedlatte]

I’m so totally over this semester😭😭😭, between the interpersonal relationships and the academics I can’t handle it anymore

[purplepixel]

You like Casey Jones a lot. What do you think of her being shipped with April?

Yes.

It's prob the only ship I care about in rise. I like to believe if the show had like 7 seasons then this is where we'd end up. Casey/April is a TMNT classic. And rise's version is enemies to lovers + GAY? My recipe for an OTP.

Having said that, I am a little weary of capril in the fandom simply bc Casey is a VERY underrated character, and I HARDLY see her but when I do, it's shipping art/fics (I will say this is changing). But I fear sometimes that people only like her to ship but don't care outside of her being with april. The fandom hasn't even scratched the surface with casey's character post show/movie and I'm more interested in exploring that rn than the romantic side of things.

[moeblob]

Deacon loves two things: Ymber and digging himself a grave.

Fulj hates one thing: Deacon.

[mad-hunts]

it's tuesday, and today, i am thinking about posting about completely random things. so who would let barton be an actually semi-good dad friend for once and let him teach their muse how to fish... then, have him be proud of them like this when they do catch something:

[isekyaaa]

Maybe being a clone doesn't scare me because I had to recreate myself at one point in my life. When I was going through major depression (not like lol depression, but it was very bad), I reached a point where I could not differentiate myself from the depression. Depression seeped into every fiber of my being that I essentially lost everything that made me me. Changing for the better meant scrapping everything I knew. I had to start from scratch and build myself back up piece by piece. It was terrifying. Depression, as bad as it was, became a crutch I could always rely on. It was steady and consistent. It was everything I knew. To let it go meant venturing out into a world that I had no clue what was what anymore. I had to go on blind faith that I would make it through.

I've done it once I probably can do it again.