#i'm not trying to sound ungrateful or anything just

[campingwiththecharmings]

so over the last week or so i've noticed several people liking almost every fic on my masterlist and, while i am appreciative of the interaction, i just wanted to take a second and ask: if you read something i wrote and enjoyed it, would you maybe at least consider reblogging it? it only takes a couple of extra seconds and is really so helpful and appreciated ❤️

[flying-cat]

Preparing myself to read a Persona 5 fic because it sounds super interesting but Maruki is a tagged character which means there's like a 70% chance that he's being mischaracterized

[rollercoasterwords]

i am once again asking people not to share my writing if u aren't going to credit me!

this is gonna be a bit of a rant i think. sorry but also i'm just fed up at this point lol

i've already. mentioned this or talked about it a few times on my blog but like. here's the ~official post~ i guess because over the past year i have lost count of the amount of times i have come across a post--usually on twitter or tiktok--that is quite literally just a direct quote from one of my stories copied and pasted without a single reference to where it came from or who wrote it.

so like, quick reminder:

this is not a quote.

"adding quotation marks to it does not make a quote."

"a quote is only a quote if you QUOTE THE PERSON WHO IT CAME FROM." - rae, @rollercoasterwords tumblr blog

does that make sense???? PLEASE tell me that makes sense. to make it even clearer:

if you are going to quote my writing in a tweet, please include AT LEAST my ao3 username (rollercoasterwords) and also, ideally, the fic title that you are quoting from. if you want to throw a link to whatever ur quoting from, great! but like. at the very least, all i am asking is that you add "quote" - @rollercoasterwords on ao3

if you are going to quote my writing in a tiktok, please include AT LEAST my ao3 username either clearly in the video itself or clearly at the very beginning of the caption, where anyone looking at the video will be able to see it immediately. please don't just put credit in a tag at the very end of a long caption where it isn't clear which tag is the fic title the quote is coming from; please don't just put it in a comment that not everyone will open and find; please don't just put it in a response to someone else's comment asking you what fic the quote is from. and please don't put no credit at all--i've seen tiktoks of my own writing without even quotation marks to let people know that it's a quote! like...at that point you're just plagiarizing my writing for...what? tiktok views? like. ok.

other writers might feel differently about how you credit them when quoting them, but for me--this is what i'm asking. just. at the very least, clearly include my ao3 username, so that people know who wrote the thing that you're sharing.

and like. i think there's this idea that you're doing me a favor by sharing my writing, in any capacity, on the internet. and at the risk of sounding harsh, i want to be very clear: that isn't true. if you are sharing my writing without any indication that it is even mine, then you are not doing me a favor. you are taking something that i worked very hard on and using it to get a few likes for yourself. i know that it's fanfiction, and i know that once i post something on the internet it is, to a certain extent, outside of my control. but like...this isn't something i'm profiting off of. it's not something i'm trying to get the most views possible on. the only reason i'm sharing it on ao3 is so that people who appreciate it can find it, and so that i can connect with those people who take the time out of their day to leave a comment or send a message saying "hey, i loved this, thanks for sharing it!" i would rather have only 5 people see my writing and like it and genuinely connect with me over it than have 5000 people see my writing and like it and never have a single one of them know who actually wrote it.

anyway. i'm not trying to sound ungrateful, y'know? i do truly, sincerely appreciate that there are people out there who have been moved enough by my writing to want to share it with others. but this isn't a numbers thing for me, ok? the amount of people looking at a thing i wrote is not what makes writing worth it to me, and i would truly, genuinely, just rather not have a single person share my writing on twitter or tiktok than have like. fifty people share it without crediting me.

[running-with-kn1ves]

Desperation

A/N: I wrote something very similar to this with the Belsire previously but I couldn't help myself 🙏

Belsire: male equivalent to the Beldam (Coraline)

CW: kidnapping, manipulation, sewing needles

A beautiful lullaby hummed against your ear, fog-like breath both chilly and thick caressed against its shell.

You never imagined that he could sew; sure, he was keen to cook you extravagant dinners, you never saw him clean despite the crooked house always spotless, and the clothes that were put in your drawers were consistently washed-- but such delicate needlework? You didn't think the creature had it in him. His fingers seemed made for it though, long and spindly and black at the tips, they held the needle at a fine point, without having to lick the end of the thread before putting it through the eye.

"Stab the needle through the eye....wrap two knots around the tongue, and pull it out the mouth."

His low, rasped voice was unlike anything you've heard from the men in the "real" world. Its croaky demure made sound as if his vocal chords were on the brink of snapping. It was very few and far between that his voice resounded throughout the house in a thunder-like boom.

Tonight, was not one of those nights. Not unless you made an effort to wrangle out of between his stick-like forearms in the wooden chair and began yelling ungrateful spiels whilst staying in HIS house. He said it was yours-- your "other home," but since the gateway tunnel back to your original 1-bedroom apartment became nothing but sturdy drywall with a key hole, its been his. It was always his, you were just too blind to see past the beautiful illusions built for you.

"Just like that... mending is simple work."

You feel his left hand, the one once holding your torn cardigan steady, reach up to lay a cold finger beneath your chin. It rubs back and forth, relishing in the warmth of your throat, the soft flesh between your jaw and jugular.

The Belsire seemed to enjoy running his smooth, icy digits along your naked skin, brushing from side to side, up and down to dip against your collar bone. He relished your warm-bloodedness from how often he took advantage of it. It was a wild contrast to his ever-frozen, rigid body draped in fine blacks and bruised shadows.

"C-can you show me again?" You plead, hoping the end of this activity wouldn't be the finale before your demise. Each time you have one of these "bonding" sessions the Belsire encourages you to entertain him with, you anticipate it being your last.

Each day you wait and wait... wondering if he's hungry again, if it'll hurt, if you'll make one more frustrated comment away that'll make him snap and pick your bones clean.

"Again..?" He tapped thrice on your neck, a twitching habit that sent cold shocks through you. "Why don't you try it yourself this time, dear?"

The sweet, affectionate name oozing from his lips was unnatural-- and yet, perfectly normal for the creature of love seduction. How many had fallen for that same adoring title, only to find themselves now locked in his stomach?

You couldn't tell anymore what was genuine adoration, or a disturbing method at getting you to put your guard down. When he was angry with you, for hiding or attempting another escapade to get back home,  'dear' transformed to spits of "insolent one" and "maddening human", at the very least. On his worst days you were a bewitching, dimwitted little creature too stupid to be let free- better off in his hands if not crunched between his teeth.

"I'm not too sure, I might..accidentally stab myself with the needle, you know?"

You shrug in feigned helplessness, hoping your lack of enthusiasm wouldn't tick him closer to the dark side.

"If you do, then I'll lick your wound and we can start again. Give it a try, won't you? I've seen your work on my coats," he mumbles lowly at the rest of his comments, "and that damned quilt you seem keen to keep."

He muses at the mention of your skilled handiwork you sneak to do when he's gone away at "none of your concern" events. However he knew of your activities in this prison cell while he was out didn't surprise you; the house had eyes, in places you'd rather not think of.

You took the needle from within his delicate grasp, mahogany red thread swinging loose and ready to be tightly wound in your wine colored cardigan.

You copy the movements he had done a million times, though you really weren't watching when he had. It was hard to concentrate with your body shivering, waiting for a sharp dagger or set of teeth to find it's way buried in your back.

The Belsire seems to ease up as you begin to complete the torn cardigan hole, placing two abnormally long hands upon the sides of your shoulders.

"Don't move," he grumbles, almost annoyed at the idea. "Smooth and quite warm... I never understood the pleasure of keeping food around longer than it's due date. But you, little button... why, you're almost opening a soft spot inside of me.."

You didn't like the sound of that. A soft spot within him would certainly be something he sought to squash.

"Are you sure you want a soft spot? I'm not even sure where that would be."

You almost laugh at your own joke, imagining his crisp limbs deflated. If you were making a soft spot, you best keep at making it grow.

"It seems you force it in me, whether I like it or not. I enjoy having you to myself, to come home to... even if the idea that you're taking part of me, is... infuriating."

The Belsire leans deeper into you, pressing the inside of his thighs against yours, craning his neck downward.

"The unfortunate part is, I think I may fall apart if you disappear."

You see the looks he gives from the corner of your eye; dark, empty buttons staring into you, awaiting your reaction. Was this another attempt to swoon you?

"Then I guess that means you can't eat me."

You sigh, hoping he'd agree. And oddly enough, he cracks a grin.

"I guess not. Though, don't hold your breath. I can't make any promises as to what my temper will lead to." The bridge of his nose is uncharacteristically pressed against your cheek, black dots boring holes into you. "On the topic, I'd be less inclined to eat you if you accepted my present..."

You round off the last bit of stitching, only to see an all too familiar velvet box on your left. It was open, music box playing a soft melody as a range of colors and sizes in buttons were available to view.

"I... I still can't, give you an answer." You go back to tying an end to the thread, praying for the Belsire's eerily calm mood to stay uninterrupted.

He goes quiet, habitually running a thumb down the shell of your ear. The chill was almost welcoming, soft flesh touching your heated one. It felt... genuine, a form of physical affection that was done for his pleasure more than your own. It would be comforting, if you weren't waiting for him to explode.

"I expected as much," he calmly huffs, shutting the box with a single finger. Its harsh snap made you drop the thread. "But you can't expect me to wait forever; you aren't going home. You will remain here, either as my slave, or my spouse. The difference is whether I have to force these buttons on you, or you take them willingly."

"I.. I just need a little more time. I haven't-- I'm not-- done adjusting. I'm not used to this world, like you."

You've given up pleading; for all you knew, there was no way back home that either of you could conjure. This was your fate.

Like a doll he dressed and cleaned and made a perfect dollhouse for, you were to sit here and provide him the comfort he could not create on his own. Like a god, creating his creatures of free will, he relished in the uniqueness you offered without him having to fabricate it first, the obedience you gave from fear in your own desire rather than a direct command.

A long silence left the air hanging stagnant, your patchwork sitting in front of you, finished and yet not quite the same as it once was. Why couldn't you go to the store and buy a new one, spend frivolous money and speak to the miserable cashier that reminded you humanity was still alive?

"...Fine. But not much longer, my sweet button...this-- mortal flesh still tying you to your world, has kept me at a distance I do not wish to stand at." A soft kiss, from creased, inexperienced lips touched the top of your cheekbone. "I want you for myself... I don't like not getting the things I want. And, I want you far more desperately than I imagined."

His voice was stoic, gentle and logical despite the romantic lines that were fed to you. Spindly fingers pulled back pieces of your hair, caressing the skin on your face with soft strokes. Like a human would do to an animal, running his knuckles against your cheek and his fingertips along your jaw.

Just a simple touch and turn of your chin was all it took to make you look at him.

"Don't make me wait. I will have you, and I want it to be because you will it. Please, don't make me do what neither of us want."

His tongue was warmer than his touch, somehow. Maybe it led to his even warmer heart, but you doubted it. Even with the way both his large, balmy palms were gripping beside your ears, pulling your face to touch his in a dance of lips and stolen breath, you wondered if this was just another web of lies spun to create your damnation.

But the desperation in how he swallowed you whole, pulling your hands away from the touchy needlework he was once keen on making you finish-- there was something human about it all, something touchy and irritable and obsessive. If he wanted you desperately then, you could only imagine how horribly ridden he was now, feeling your warmth as he made you colder with his hands and wrists, him never changing.

You peeked an eye open, wondering if those buttons stayed all-seeing, all watching, even when you kissed.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

oooh 70 on the prompts list with shane would be so angstyyyyy plz i need to see ur thoughts on this -galaxy

This one's got a little kick to it ough

70) "After everything we've been through, you still don't think that I love you?"

......

"Honey..wh..what is this?"

"Can't you read? God, and I thought Alex was the only illiterate man in town-"

"I know what it says! But..I don't understand. Did I do something wrong?"

"Besides being a leech on my income for the past year and not doing a damn thing to make up for it....no."

"..are you crazy? I HAVE been doing my part! Just..take these back to Lewis and tell him you changed your mind. I'm not signing them."

"I don't need your signature. Just mine is enough to finalize it. I've already gotten everything packed for you..since you're too goddamn lazy to do it yourself."

"....what?" Tears stung Shane's eyes as he shakily set the stack of papers on the table, his vision blurring. He stared at you, seeing not an ounce of remorse on your face..but instead pure hatred. "Why would you do this behind my back? I-I thought...you-"

"What? You thought I loved you? Hah." The brief laugh that left your lips was cold. "Who could love a messed-up lowlife like you, Shane? I have a farm to take care of, a community center to restore..I can't have you slowing me down. It was a fun little fling, but now you bore me. I gotta get serious about my work."

"That's...all I was to you? A "fling"?!" A hurtful scowl formed on his face, hands shaking. "What about everything we've-?!"

"I only pitied you. And y'know, if I didn't care about Jas growing up without a father figure..I would've left you in the forest that night. I only stayed and married you to make them happy. But you blew your chance to get your act together..they're gonna be so disappointed in you."

As much as he wanted to respond with a snarky "I didn't know there was a time limit"...he was frozen on the spot, unable to say anything.

What could he say?

This was all so sudden...and just when he thought you two were doing so well and he was starting to have a genuinely positive outlook on life..

He made the horrid mistake of checking the mailbox and finding the dreaded papers.

"I'll say this was 50,000 gold well-spent." You grabbed the papers off the table, looking at the broken man before holding out your hand. "Give me that necklace. I'm gonna sell it."

"No..." Shane shook his head and clutched the mermaid pendant, tears streaking his face as he backed into the corner. "I...I-I'm so sorry, I'll try to be better! Just tell me what I can fix, a-and I'll-!!"

Suddenly you pulled out a dagger and swiped at him, causing him to flinch and shield himself, eyes squeezing shut in anticipation-

Yet he wasn't injured, but when he saw his pendant in your hands now...he felt as though you actually twisted that dagger deep into his heart.

He collapsed to his knees, devastated as you sheathed your weapon and pocketed the amulet you once tied around his neck at your wedding.

By your hands, you two were bonded in matrimony...

And by your hands, that bond was severed.

"There's nothing to talk about. I'm sick of pretending that I care for some lazy ungrateful fuck. Goodbye, Shane."

And with that, you stormed out of the house..and he was left there on the floor, his sobs filling the silence in the now empty cabin.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

It was already late when you returned from your mining trip, and once you finished putting the spoils of your expedition into the shipping bin, you yawned and stretched.

The time was 1:10 AM...and your energy was super drained.

You figured Shane was already sound asleep. The idea of crawling into that cozy bed and cuddling with the man you loved had you eager to take off your boots and put your tools away.

However upon opening the door..you immediately caught a faint whiff of beer, and it left a sinking pit in your stomach.

He did bring home a six-pack case today, and he promised to have it in moderation.

But the kitchen trash showed clear evidence of recently-opened cans.

Four out of the six, in fact.

'Oh man..it happened again..'

You knew that he wasn't gonna be able to quit cold turkey just like that. It wasn't a habit he could flip off like a lightswitch, and that's a fact you've come to accept.

Although he had a few beers from time to time, it was nothing like before. And he would always let you know if he was having some....so to realize he drank over half the case tonight alone was alarming.

Why? You were only gone for a few hours..

You entered the bedroom, finding Shane still awake, hunched over on the bed's edge with his face in his hands. He looked completely torn up, and you've never seen him this bad since..

"Shane, sweetheart?"

Startled, he looked up at you, revealing his eyes to be puffy and red from crying. "O-Oh..hi. You..y-you came back?" He hoarsely asked.

"Of course I did..without having to visit Harvey, thank god." You walked over and sat beside him, frowning. "But more importantly are you okay? What's wrong?"

He tried to respond, but the memories of that nightmare made him physically incapable of doing so...and fresh tears welled in his eyes.

A choked sob came out, and as quickly as he tried covering it up--it failed as similar heartbreaking noises followed.

You didn't waste any time pulling him into a hug.

Leaning against you, he sobbed into your neck, soaking the collar of your shirt in tears. But you just hushed him and rubbed his back. He didn't smell too heavily of beer, although it made you wonder what happened tonight that was bad enough to make him relapse.

Was it...you?

Was you being away stressing him out?

Did he think you wouldn't come back-

"[Y/n]...you sure you..really love me? And all of this isn't...a-a joke?" He hiccupped softly.

Those questions made your heart sink, and you briefly pulled away to gaze at him in sadness. You knew he was still struggling with his self-confidence and self-image, often comparing himself to a "squishy bag of flesh" and feeling "too old", but for him to doubt your love?

Even after talking him off a cliff?

Even after going to the gridball game where you shared that first kiss?

Even after giving him the bouquet and mermaid pendant?

"After everything we've been through, you still don't think that I love you?" You asked softly, not with anger, but with worry.

"Just look at me, and look at every other guy in this town. You could'a had a doctor, someone who can still play gridball, a writer who lives by the sea...even that emo guy seems cool. But you chose me..."

With a sniffle, he clutched the mermaid pendant with trembling fingers. "...this pathetic..l-lowlife who doesn't do shit on this farm. I swear I'd change and get my act together, but I'm letting you down again...j-just like everyone else. And I'm so sorry...I'm such a failure." He sobbed harder.

"Wha..that's nonsense. You do more for me and this farm than you could possibly know." You cupped his face, feeling his cheeks grow wet with fresh tears. "You feed the animals, you water any crops my sprinklers could've missed...and those pepper poppers you give me help keep my energy up in the mines so I can come home safely."

"But..I can't even microwave them right." He whined. "I wanna have the energy to cook like you do-"

"What do you mean?" You frowned. "Last week, you made me a killer omelet when I went to bed angry over a Pepper Rex burning my favorite cardigan."

Shane blinked, searching his foggy brain for that memory, before it dawned on him that he actually DID wake up extra early to surprise you with an omelet he cooked on the stove. Made from Charlie's eggs, of course.

"Ah, that's right..well...I guess I'm good at some things.." He sniffled, slowly calming down.

You chuckled softly, thumbing away the rest of his tears, your fingers brushing over his scruff. He recently shaved it, but it grew back rather quickly--like a crop infused with deluxe growth fertilizer.

"You're good at being my partner, and keeping me company after a long day." You kissed him in the lips. "I love you, Shane. Nothing will change that, even if you have relapses."

"I love you, too..and 'm sorry. I just had this really bad nightmare, and I couldn't fight the urge tonight."

"I understand, I'm not angry." Bringing him back into a hug, you sighed as he squeezed you tightly. "Did you wanna talk about it? I know it's late but..I'm sure it'll help us both."

"...you promise not to laugh?"

"I promise."

"I..had a nightmare you divorced me."

"Huh..really?"

"Yeah, you filed the papers behind my back and said some...pretty hurtful stuff, like how it's "the best 50,000 gold you've ever spent", how what we had was just "a fling", and...how I'm leeching off of you." The longer he went on, the more he struggled to swallow back further tears. "And..you took the pendant back by force. With that dagger you always keep on you."

"....."

"I-It's stupid, but it...just felt so real. And when I woke up and you didn't come back from the mines yet, I thought maybe..it actually happened."

"Shane." You shook your head, leaning back again to bring his face into your hands. "No way would I EVER put that much gold towards something that stupid. This farmwork..it's so much to one person to handle, and I'm forever grateful you're here to help me. You're doing your best, and that's all I could ever ask for."

"Thank you.." He nodded, finally realizing that what he dreamed was nothing more than a ridiculous nightmare.

You smiled and kissed him again, making this one last a bit longer before you pulled away. "I'll get you some water, okay? I don't want my baby to have a hangover in the morning."

Shane sheepishly returned the smile, allowing you to get up and go to the kitchen, while he got comfortable in bed and patiently waited for your return. His hand went to the pendant on his chest, relieved it was still there.

Even though you were probably dead-tired from the mines..you still took the time to care for him when he hit another low. You didn't see him as a chore or a leech on your life.

You saw him as your husband, your soulmate..someone you were willing to love through thick and thin even when some days were harder than others.

Of course, his depression might tell him otherwise, and manifest those insecurities into nightmares.

But you'll still be here for him no matter what.

[atimeofyourlife]

Sharing a night in a shitty apartment

written for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt: only one bed | rating: t | wc: 756 | tags: pre-steddie Steve offered to let Eddie stay at his place in the aftermath of Vecna. But forgets to mention its a shitty apartment with only one bed.

For the first time since moving, Steve was thankful that the communal areas of the apartment block were poorly lit. It was something that he, and his neighbors, had raised to the landlord multiple times, but it never got fixed. But now, the darkness gave the perfect cover for him to smuggle Eddie into his apartment, for a place to lay low until Dr Owens and his band of government goons swept into town to clean up the mess caused by the Upside Down. Something that didn't help, was that they were both injured and he had a fourth floor walk up.

He fumbled for his keys to unlock the door, and they both made their way in to collapse on the couch, not even caring that they hadn't changed since coming out of the Upside Down. When Steve could think a little more clearly, he would be happy that he had an old and ugly couch that he kept covered with a blanket.

"I don't want to sound ungrateful or anything, it's really cool of you to let me stay with you. But when you said I could hide out at your place, I thought you meant Loch Nora. Not this... cozy set up you have with far too many fucking stairs." Eddie said after he'd had a chance to catch his breath.

"My parents sold up the place in Loch Nora, five, six months ago. And didn't extend an offer for me to move with them. This is what I could get on short notice, and on my Family Video salary." Steve explained.

"Shit, your parents suck." Eddie replied, stretching out. "Any chance of a shower, I feel gross after a week on the run."

"Yeah. Bathroom's over there, the door on the left. Just try not to take too long, the hot water is temperamental, and I need to shower off the Upside Down too."

"I get it, dude. I live in a trailer. Sometimes we're lucky if we get five minutes before the hot water shuts off." Eddie said, pulling himself to his feet. "At least the bats didn't get me as much as they could have."

"Let me just wash the dirt off my hands, and I'll find you a towel and some clothes." Steve went into the bathroom first, spending much longer than usual scrubbing his hands clean. Once he was done, he pulled a towel out of the closet. "Feel free to use any of the soap and shampoo and conditioner. I'll leave some clothes outside for you. Just don't lock the door, it sticks."

Steve went into his bedroom, pulling out sweatpants, t-shirts, and underwear for each of them. He knocked on the bathroom door as the shower cut out. "Eddie, I've got some clothes for you."

A few seconds later, the door opened and Eddie stuck his hand out. "Thanks Harrington."

Once Eddie was done with the bathroom, Steve took his chance to shower off the Upside Down. He then gathered their clothes, towels, and the blanket off the couch into a pile, ready to take to the laundromat. Or burn, maybe.

He found Eddie in the bedroom, trying to look like he hadn't just been snooping.

"I think I'm going to turn in. The most sleep I've got this week was in an armchair in the Wheeler's basement. I doubt you feel much better." Steve said as he pulled back the covers on his bed.

"Yeah. Um, do you have a spare pillow and blanket or something? I can go set up on the couch." Eddie offered, looking uncomfortable.

"Oh, shit. No, you're not sleeping on the couch. It's way too small and uncomfortable. We can share the bed, as long as you don't steal the covers." Steve replied, patting the space next to him.

Eddie looked at him hesitantly for a long moment, before climbing in next to Steve.

The next morning, Steve woke to Eddie practically on top of him. Something about the weight was calming to him, holding off the state of panic he usually found himself in for weeks after an encounter with the Upside Down. And he'd slept much better too, the nightmares that he always got in the aftermath not making their appearance yet. He knew they should get up, to be ready to regroup and face whatever happened next. But he felt too at peace to let the world bother him in the moment. So, instead, he snuggled deeper into Eddie's embrace, and allowed himself to doze back off.

[sunnytotherescue]

Obey me boys with chubby! Reader w/ the most thickest fat ass who is definitely a power bottom

(My English is not my first language)

Ouh lawd anon save me from the sweltering pits of hell I'm going to start BARKING..

cw: dom!bot mc

nnngrhhmgngfjfh

Thinking about Lucifer desperately thrusting up into the air and gaining nothing from it. Lucifer who loves getting suffocated and crushed as he eats you out, swollen cock twitching with every slow grind against his tongue. The feeling of losing all control of the situation for once makes him painfully hard. His mind is already a haze, drooling mouth trying to keep up with you whenever you move but he's grown sluggish with the lack of oxygen. Of course, he wouldn't have it any other way, obnoxious slurping filling up the room while the lucky demon silently begs for you to stay there forever.

Thinking about Mammon who's quickly turned into your very own dog. He'd lick the sweat off your chest, squeeze and grope every inch you allowed him access to, decorate you in jewels and treasures only he could snatch. Put that mutt on a leash and have him fuck you, desperate pleads spilling from his mouth the second he slams in. Let him drool over how every golden chain and shiny diamond he's decorated you with jingles with every thrust. Tug on pup's collar hard enough and he'll cum from that alone, sobbing when he spills deep inside your hole. But even then he won't stop, not until you let him, not until you've had your fill and he's passing out! But how could such a greedy demon be ungrateful when every ripple of skin and shiny glint of gold is just for him?

Thinking about Leviathan who has trouble just approaching you because of the threatening (in his words) aura you give off. You're so scary he knows you'll bully him- you gave him a look at lunch he's never going to recover- he's rocking back in forth in his tub bed to try and forget how much you must hate him- he gets out his laptop to watch his favorites to help the process- he's never jerked off to that much porn in his life. ..It's not long after he gets the real thing. Or, at least, as much as he's allowed. Levi sits at the end of your bed, panting feverishly while one hand massages your ass and the other fists his dick like his life depends on it. It a mess, milky white cum already staining your skin, but he just can't stop. Not when he's so good at imagining how you'd use him like a toy.. but don't actually!! he doesn't deserve it...yet.

Thinking of Satan who's on the verge of sobbing. His poor sensitive cock so overstimulated it almost hurts, but he's taking it like a good boy. The night started out in a fight and ended with you bouncing on his dick like an animal, taking all you could want while he curls sharp claws into the sheets, trying desperately to muffle his sounds. He's usually so clever, but underneath of you? He turns into such a dumb little kitty. Moans get punched from his mouth with every harsh slam of your hips, a sticky slick mess squelching with every movement. He can't feel anything else besides burning, painful pleasure. Not like he would want to anyway.

Thinking of Asmodeus who begs you to let him play dress-up. He has so many ideas that he's never gotten to try out because none of the outfits look right on him. but you? they look perfect. By the end of it, you're dressed in a silky-smooth robe, the color matching your eyes almost exactly. it's perfect, drapes over your curves just right and has Asmo at your knees with a drunk look in his eyes. He kisses the inside of your thighs like you're the finest diamond in all of Devildom. Asmodeus, the prized and loved avatar of lust, at your feet and pulling every trick in the book to try n seduce you. Telling you how pretty you look, how good he'll make you feel, how he well he can worship you.

Thinking about Beelzebub who can't help but look at you and get hungry. It absolutely sinful and he feels guilty about it, but who else could satisfy him? He fucks into you like a bull, lips wrapped firmly around you chest and sucking like you'd actually be able to produce milk.. he's so hungry :( Poor starving Beel has no idea how fucked out you are, choking out praises while your eyes roll back into your head. He plays with your chest in a way that should be embarrassing, but you'll let him believe it's just like a pair of tits if he keeps fucking you like this.

Thinking of Belphegor who uses your ass n thighs like pillows every chance he gets. Sitting on the couch? He's there. Late for breakfast and sitting alone? He's under the table with his head on your lap. Settling down in bed for the night? Idiot's whining until you let him climb under your sheets and sleep between your thighs. But don't worry, he repays you kindly. Jerking you off in the dead of knight, humping the curve of your ass while using his own spit to slick up ur cock.. he promises not to cum. to put your pleasure above his own, edging himself until your thick spend is soaking his fist and he can't take it anymore. Too bad he always passes out right after... hopefully he'll make up for it in the morning..

_

hiiiiiii I hate how this turned out ok baiiiii

[crafty-butch]

Embalmed

A short story by me (tw: body horror, self-harm kinda)

Did you know embalming isn't actually that common, worldwide? I didn't. Sure, there are some famous exceptions–looking at you, pharaohs–but embalming random schlubs is mostly a US thing. Plenty of religions ban it outright. Islam, Judaism, several branches of Christianity…

Bear with me. I promise I have a point.

Anyway, I've got no opinion on what God wants us to do with our corpses. I've never been religious. I'm still not, weird as that sounds. But I'm with Islam, Judaism, and several branches of Christianity on this one. Just skip the embalming and bury the body before it starts to rot. It'll be easier for everyone, on the off chance someone decides to bring them back.

No, this isn't a joke. Look, I'm not saying it's likely, okay? I know the stats. Less than twenty confirmed resurrections in the last half-century. Maybe twice that many ambiguous cases. Actually ambiguous, that is. Just because someone is flaired “unconfirmed” on r/Resurrected doesn't mean there's a chance in Hell they're legit. So, yeah, I get it's unlikely. But let's jump back to embalming real quick.

You know how it works, right? At least vaguely? Blood goes out, formaldehyde goes in. Well, that's step one. Step two is sucking all the non-blood fluids out of your body cavity and swapping those for embalming fluid too. They also sew your mouth shut, stuff some cotton in you to stop any leaking–I could go on, but I won't. Like I said, I don't have any issue with embalming from a treatment-of-the-dead-body standpoint. I'm not trying to make anyone feel bad for embalming Great-Aunt Edith, here. I'm just saying, if the dead body becomes an alive body, you can see why there might be some issues.

Yeah, yeah, I know what you're going to say: “It's magic, dumbass.” And, yes, it is. That's why waking up with your mouth sewn shut and your body stuffed full of formaldehyde doesn't immediately kill you again. Doesn't make it fun, though.

Okay, maybe I shouldn't focus on the mouth thing. I'm sure it's happened to someone, but my sister cut the stitches out before she brought me back. She was thorough like that. I just feel like it's easier to picture, you know? Mouth won't open and hurts when you try. The rest of it's harder.

I don't blame my sister for not dealing with the formaldehyde. I know there wasn't much she could do about it. If she'd had more time, I'm sure she could've come up with something, but once you've dug up a body, you're kind of on a (ha) deadline. If someone sees you, you're done. So I get it. I've had a lot of time to think it over, and I'm still not sure what she could've done better. Other than just letting me stay dead.

I don't want to sound ungrateful, but…maybe I am? A little bit? I know that's an awful thing to say. It's not like I wanted to die. That's not what this is about. It's also not about how super amazingly great the afterlife is. Sorry to disappoint, but I have no idea. I don't remember anything between the hospital and waking up on the grass with a chest full of embalming fluid. Does that mean there's nothing after? Or did coming back just give me amnesia? No idea. I leave that one to the philosophers.

My sister probably would've had an opinion.

She was always…

Let me tell you about my sister.

She was great. I'm not saying this because of what happened. She really was incredible. Almost perfect. One of those people who's so smart and so kind and so beautiful and so goddamn humble but not so humble you can even accuse them of humblebragging, to the point where you can't help but hate them a little for making you look so fucking shitty in comparison and then you feel like the biggest bitch in the world and that just makes you hate them more.

Okay, maybe she wasn't quite as perfect as all that. After I came back, I learned some things. Turns out she was just as much of a fuckup as me, in her own way. She was just better at hiding it. But I never met that version of her. In my memories, she's still just Little Miss Impossibly Perfect. I wish she'd told me about any of it. Maybe…

No, that isn't fair. Why would she tell me anything that could get her in trouble? Maybe I would've hated her less, or maybe I would've just gone and told our parents. Even once we grew up. Would I really have been able to resist knocking her off that pedestal? I'd like to think I would, but come on. Look how I'm talking about her. And that's after she sold her soul for me.

If you're thinking right now that the world probably would've been better off with her instead of me, you're not the only one. Don't worry, I won't take it personally. Or maybe you're not thinking that at all. I've been told I project onto other people.

Maybe you're just confused about why I'm talking about her in the past tense. After all, it's not like selling your soul kills you, and you've probably never met someone unensouled. Or maybe you have, and you know exactly why I'm talking like this. Probably not, though. There are a lot more unensouled than there are people who were resurrected–people sell their souls for all sorts of reasons–but there are a lot more fakers too. Pro tip: if someone claiming they sold their soul gives any sign of caring about literally anything, including whether you believe them, they're lying to you.

So, yeah, she's still here. I know I keep saying it, but I'm not religious. I don't think my sister is burning in Hell while her empty husk sits up here, and if you ask me, that's just a real convenient excuse not to help the person who's still right there in front of you. Whatever a “soul” actually is, there's clearly someone here.

Sorry, I might be preaching to the choir here. And I don't want to sound like I think every religious person thinks that way. I just made the mistake of talking to my parents this weekend, and I'm still a little mad. Or a lot mad. Look, I know I'm getting off topic. Just, real quick, I want to explain.

She's still my sister. I'm not denying that. I keep saying she was this or she was that because she's not really any of those things anymore. She's not cruel, but she doesn't care enough to be kind. I'm sure she's still smart, but she doesn't actually want to use her smarts for anything. She barely eats if I don't pester her into it. I don't think she'd have an opinion on what my lack of memory says about the afterlife anymore. But, hey, maybe she would. Maybe I should ask.

Anyway. None of this is really my point. My point is, waking up next to your own open grave is freaky enough when you're not choking on formaldehyde. It took weeks before I was mostly bleeding blood again. (Yeah, I checked. Don't judge. You'd be curious too.) I coughed up embalming fluid for months. My insides still don't feel quite right. I could get them checked out, but I'll be honest with you. I don't want to know. I haven't been anywhere near a doctor since I got back.

I know, you don't think this will happen to you. No one you know is the right combination of smart enough to wade through all the bullshit to figure out how to revive you and stupid enough to go through with it. And you're probably right. But I thought that too.

[bl0odyh3art]

MISS ME?

warnings: incest, dad Leon, Leon being a creep, daughter reader, divorce, forced p in v, cunnilingus.

this is dead dove/dark content. if are uncomfortable with this kind of content or don't like it, then do not interact.

a/n: I FUCKING HATE THIS FIC 😭

Your dad worked hard. Every day, he came home and had to deal with you. The mess you left, cooking dinner, helping you clean, and the laundry. Then he had to do it again the next day, and the next, and the next. Tonight, he came home around 8 pm. He said a quick "hey, sweetheart", pressed a kiss on the top of your head and went to his bedroom to shower and change. After an hour or so, he came back to the living room and sat beside him. He was too tired to do anything. He placed his rough hand on your thigh. "Do anything today?" his voice was raspy, and his hand squeezed your thigh, he's always been touchy with you. "Yeah." you sighed, keeping your eyes on the TV. "What'd you do, huh?" he looked over at you. His thumb softly rubbing your outer thigh. "I made lunch and cleaned up last night. You can eat the leftovers." you didn't look at him once, you didn't know why, but you just wanted to watch the show that was playing. "Baby, look at me." he grabbed your jaw, making you look at him. You looked at him, he's never been this touchy with you. Ever. His right hand was on your upper thigh and his fingers were so close to your core. His left hand on the side of your face. It felt so weird. You got his hands off your body. "What?" your eyes looking into his eyes. What the fuck was his problem? "Honey, I'm just lonely….you know that….your mom and everything…no one wants me baby….but you're here…my precious girl…my sweet little baby girl…" his big arms coming to wrap around your shoulders. Smelling your hair and softly groaning. You softly pushed on his shoulders, but he held you tighter, placing you on his lap. "Look so much like your fuck'n mom, you know?" he whispered to you, his hand snaking to your ass. You didn't like that, but he's your dad. How could you say no? He let go of you before you know it. "Sorry, sweetheart….fuck I'm sorry…just-....go to bed." he grumbled, rubbing his eyes. You went up to your room, to think and just try to sleep after that.

You weren't even wet, dry as a desert. He took off you panties and moved down on the bed, spreading your ass cheeks open and flatting his tounge against your pussy, licking a stripe up your cunt to your asshole. You didn't even make a sound or movement. Good girl. He flicked his tongue over your clit multiple times, pressing kisses to your hole, and sticking his tongue in there, feeling your slick get mixed up with his saliva. He flipped you over carefully and pulled down his sweats, pulling his dick out and spreading your legs open. He lined up his tip to your hole and dropped his head down onto your shoulder as he forced himself in you, sucking in a sharp breath as he plumped into you. Grabbing onto your tits as he groaned and moaned. He reached his hand down to your clit to rub it on like you were awake and need the pleasure. "Goooddd…soo fucking good, baby….uh-huh mhh take your daddy's dick for me….hmm" You started to wake up, eye's fluttering open to see your dad on top you. Pounding into you. Rubbing your clit as he was slobbering all over the nape of your neck like a dog in heat. His neck snapped up from hearing your cries for him to stop, his eyes blown wide and mouth open. "I'm sorry, baby….just-...just take it, sweetheart….just take it…." he whispered in-between his heavy breathing and moans. You cried softly and quietly. So ungrateful, huh? He quickly put your legs over his shoulders and he picked up the pace, groaning as you clamped around his dick, trying to push him out. "Stop being so ungrateful…you …hmm…you should be fucking….happy that I'm doing this….no more little useless boys….who don't know what their doing….this is my fucking pussy…..you owe me your whole little life…. Risked my life for you every day…." he slapped your clit as you sobbed. As soon as he finished, filling you up, he wiped your tears and started crying himself. "I'm sorry, baby…. I'm so sorry…. fuck…. I'm sorry…." he cried into your shoulder, holding you tightly. He was sobbing. You've never seen your dad cry like this before. Full on sobbing like someone died. You just wrap your arms around his neck and let him cry. Patting his back as he kept apologizing. What the hell, he raped you and he starts crying?

[octarinecat]

Raphael and love (aka silent treatment)

Author notes: 607 words, SFW, angst & fluff, Raphael x female Tav, soft Raphael; since poll said that Raphael is 60% capable of love, then have this little fic in memory of the poll; thanks for @dark-and-kawaii for beta reading and @mist1e for inspiration 💜 update: I changed the inappropriate word, thank you for info 🫡

"I brought fresh, fragrant flowers for you. I bought you jewellery that no mortal queen would be ashamed of...!" Raphael thundered and threw the bouquet on the floor. Tav lifted herself up from the book and set it down carefully beside her on the sofa. The large red roses, interspersed with purple eustoms, were crushed as they hit the floor.

"You have everything you've ever wanted and still not enough! Ungrateful wench!" He shouted to himself rather than at her, his restless stride carrying with his voice throughout the House of Hope. Her watchful gaze followed his every move, ready for anything, especially an escape from the boudoir.

Raphael at one point banged his fist on the vanity table, which collapsed with a clatter. Unfortunately, this did not make him sober up; on the contrary, one flick of his wrist and her favourite piece of furniture went up in flames.

"The wild mongrels would eat you up and that would be too little punishment for you...!" He roared louder until the window panes rattled.

"And what are you so silent about? Won't you say anything?!" He growled at her, thirsting for any kind of response. An outburst of anger, throwing a book at him, or hitting him with her fragile fists.

She looked at him meaningfully, her gaze cool and uncomfortably calm. She took a deep breath and let it out louder than usual, maintained a worried look.

The one muscle on his face trembled with concern. His body responded with a delayed mirroring and after a moment he also sighed. Then with a heavy but nimble step he approached her.

She saw, oh she saw, his hand was itching for a strike. At the last moment he turned and sat down impetuously beside her, until the sofa creaked with accusation. "What is it this time?" He growled through his teeth and crossed his arms over his chest, which rippled with heavy breaths.

And she remained silent. Perhaps under the strain of emotion, perhaps... she felt pleasure at his dissatisfaction. Unfortunately, he was not given a response to this.

A grunt from her side.

"Go on." He muttered.

She sighed.

"Just because you're pressing gifts into me doesn't mean everything's fine. Nothing is fine." She began her monologue, and Raphael huffed and slid down to lay his head in on her lap. A small smile crept across her face and her fingers travelled between his brown hair.

She mused. How to explain to him so he would understand? Is there any point in explaining at all?

"Listen. You can't just shut people out like that... And then, on top of that, not take consequences from your behaviour." She noticed his hand clench into a fist and she stopped stroking his head.

"I did it for your own good...!" He growled and tugged at the material of her dress.

"You didn't even say anything before just shut me out like I was a child! I'm not saying I wanted to be there and fight or die, but...!" She raised her voice. "Have you heard of FEELINGS, Raphael?"

At the word "feelings" he snorted loudly, which pricked her significantly. She became silent again.

The silence began to drag. The standing clock chimed twelve o'clock and they both shook their ears at the sound.

"I will try to..." he began slowly "...take your opinion into consideration."

Sighing on her part; it sounded almost like an apology. For him, that was undeniably great progress.

"... and I'll fix your vanity table..." she added for him.

"That'll do. You are a misery, little mouse. A nuisance. A burdensome creature... my conscience."

[punkshort]

Recovery

Summary: You care for Joel while he is on the mend from his injury. (Part two of Three Days)

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!reader, established relationship, set in the TWWW universe, no use of Y/N.

Warnings: language, discussion of injury, soft!Joel, smut (18+ MDNI), fingering, handjob, dirty talk, oral (m receiving)

Word Count: 4.5K

A/N: I didn't expect part one to be so well received, thank you everyone who liked/commented and wanted to be tagged in this story! I'm a little nervous about this one and I don't know if I like it now, I hope I did it justice.

Part Two

"C'mon, it ain't that far, I just wanna stretch my legs a bit," Joel said to you from the couch. You shook your head and gave him a stern look.

"Bill said you need to stay off that leg at least another week, you're just going to have to wait," you said as you finished making lunch. You placed his sandwich with a small salad on a tray and brought it over to the living room, where Joel had taken up residence for almost the past month while he healed. Under strict orders not to put unnecessary weight on his leg, he had been stuck on the couch during the warmest stretch of summer yet, and it was causing him to be a difficult patient.

"I'm losin' my mind here," he grumbled as he took a bite of sandwich. You rolled your eyes and bit your tongue as you went to go clean up the kitchen. You were doing your best to take care of him, and he was very agreeable in the beginning, but as his strength built up, so did his boredom.

"You're not invincible, you know. All you need to do is sit there and let us take care of you," you said over your shoulder. "Then you can do whatever you want."

"I feel fine, I don't need you hoverin' over me all the damn time," he said sharply. Shocked, you looked over at him from the kitchen. His eyes were cast down and focused on his food, completely unphased by how hurtful he was being. You turned away without saying anything in return as tears sprung to your eyes.

His recovery wasn't easy on you, either. You had to learn how to be a nurse in just a few short hours so he could have the comforts of home as soon as the doctor cleared him. At the time, you had been so exhausted from sleeping on a lumpy cot on the floor, but you put all your energy into paying close attention to what Bill, Jackson's resident doctor, and Carrie, his nurse, were telling you. They taught you how to take his blood pressure, change and clean his dressings, and a few physical therapy exercises you had to help him with daily. Not to mention the handful of medications you had to keep straight and the long list of "red flag" signs you had to remember. But you didn't mind, because it meant he was going to come home, and he was going to be okay. So, to hear him sound so ungrateful more than hurt your feelings.

You sniffled quietly before turning back around. He had finished eating and picked up a crossword, oblivious to your reaction. Taking a shaky breath in, you strode over to the living room to pick up his tray.

"Tommy's going to be here soon, I have to work this afternoon," you mumbled. Joel huffed and kept working on his crossword.

"Don't need him hoverin' over me, either. I'll be fine by myself. Could use the peace and quiet, anyway," he said, the last part mostly under his breath, but you still heard it.

You angrily dropped the dishes into the sink, making him jump and look up from across the living room.

"What the hell?" he yelled, his brows furrowed.

"Yeah, 'what the hell' is right, Joel," you replied with your hand on your hip and your lower lip trembling. "Maybe try showing a little gratitude for the people who are taking time out of their day to help you."

"I didn't ask for any help, I can take care of myself!" he shouted.

"No, you can't! You could have died, you asshole!" you yelled right back. One tear slid down your cheek, but he was too far away to notice it.

"Whoa! What's with all the yellin'?" Tommy said as he entered the kitchen. He looked back and forth between you and Joel, the two of you glaring at the other. He did a double take when he noticed you turn and subtly wipe the tears from your cheek.

"It's nothin'," Joel finally said, his voice quieter but still strained, and turned back to his crossword. Tommy took a step toward you and was about to speak, but you cut him off.

"I gotta go. Thanks for coming by, Tommy," you said quietly, and hurriedly made your way out the front door.

Tommy ticked his jaw to the side as he stared at the closed door for a moment before turning around, eyeing up Joel warily as he joined him in the living room.

"What the hell's the matter with you?" Tommy asked with a sigh as he crossed his legs, his ankle coming to rest on the top of his knee.

"I didn't do anythin'," Joel muttered, tossing the crossword down angrily before he continued. "I'm sick of bein' cooped up, I just wanted to take a short walk."

"Didn't Bill say you can't do that til next week?"

"Yeah, but c'mon, Tommy. I know my body, I know what I can do. I just wanted her help with this one thing-"

"One thing?" Tommy repeated, cutting Joel off. "One thing?! That girl's been killin' herself for you for a goddamn month, takin' care of everythin' around here and you think you're only askin' her for 'one thing'?"

Joel scoffed and crossed his arms, averting his gaze to look outside.

"This ain't none of your business, anyway," Joel replied, still avoiding his brother's glare.

"The hell it ain't," Tommy said bitterly, dropping his foot to the ground so he could lean closer to Joel, hoping to make his next words stick.

"I watched that girl fall apart that night. She wouldn't eat. She wouldn't sleep. She was fuckin' scared, Joel. I never saw her like that, ever," Tommy said firmly, watching as Joel's mouth twitched but kept his gaze directed out the window. "You ever think about that? 'Bout what she went through? She nearly tore the place down tryin' to get to you. Never left your side. She woulda cut her arms wide open so you could take her blood had Holly taken any longer to get there."

Joel's eyes dropped to the floor and he pursed his lips as he absorbed what Tommy said.

"That right?" Joel asked softly.

"Yeah, that's right. What the hell you think, Joel? For some reason, she loves you and would do anythin' for you. So maybe quit thinkin' about yourself for once," Tommy snapped, leaning back in his chair.

"I just feel so goddamn useless, Tommy," Joel said quietly, still looking at the ground. "I hate sittin' around like this."

Tommy sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Think of it like a vacation, because I'm gonna have your ass back on patrol as soon as possible, and you'll miss havin' your own personal nurse around, waitin' on you hand and foot."

Tommy picked up an old magazine and began leafing through it.

"You wanna watch a movie or somethin'?" Tommy asked, his eyes still glued to the magazine.

"Sure, yeah, pick whatever you want," Joel mumbled, lost in thought.

You came home from work, feeling guilty that you enjoyed the break away from the house, but you couldn't deny that a few hours helped quell your anger. Sighing, you walked into the kitchen to find Tommy doing the dishes.

"Oh, Tommy, you don't have to do that," you said as you walked up next to him and leaned against the counter, your back to the living room and Joel.

"It's no trouble, darlin'," Tommy said with a grin as he finished the last plate. "I fed the beast, so you try to take it easy tonight, yeah?"

You smirked at his nickname for Joel and nodded.

"Sure. Thanks again for sitting with him while I worked, we both appreciate it," you told him while he dried his hands and gave Joel a quick wave as you walked him to the front door.

"Anytime. I also set him straight for you," he said quietly with a wink. You scoffed and rolled your eyes. As if that man could ever be reasoned with.

"Good night, Tommy," you said as you shut the door. You took a deep breath, digging deep to find the patience to deal with Joel for the rest of the night. You really hoped he wasn't going to continue your argument from earlier. Between his round the clock care and your job, you were barely getting any sleep, and you just didn't have the energy to fight any more.

"Hey," you said tiredly as you made your way into the living room. Joel looked up from the TV when you spoke and reached for the remote to turn it down. You were about to collapse into the loveseat across from him when he stopped you.

"Why don't you come sit by me?" he asked softly. You gave him a look before you nodded and sat down on his left, leaning on the arm of the couch as you tucked your legs under you.

"What are you watching?" you asked with a yawn, trying to place the movie playing on the screen.

"Tired?" he asked, ignoring your question. You nodded, your eyes still on the TV. He reached out to place a hand on your thigh and gave it a gentle squeeze, finally drawing your attention onto him.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," he said as he absentmindedly rubbed your leg. "I shouldn't've said all that to you, I didn't mean it. I appreciate everythin' you're doin' for me, I'm just... restless, or somethin'. And I took it out on you."

Your eyebrows shot up, surprised, as you stared into his deep, brown eyes. Eyes that were filled with shame and regret. You rested one of your hands on top of his, your thumb rubbing small circles over his knuckles.

"It's alright," you told him with a small smile. "I'm sorry, too."

"What are you sorry for?" Joel asked. You paused for a moment, opening your mouth to answer, but he cut you off.

"Are you sorry for spendin' all your time takin' care of some old, ungrateful jackass?"

The corner of your mouth twitched before you replied.

"You're not that old," you teased, and he smirked. "I just let all the stress get to me. It's fine, really. Maybe I'll go to bed early tonight, or something."

"Hm," he said, turning back to the TV.

"What?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Nothin'. Just was thinkin' maybe I can help you relax, considerin' how much you do for me," he said lowly, looking down as his fingers inched up your leg and brushed underneath the hem of your shorts.

"You have a broken pelvis, remember?" you said with a laugh.

"Yeah, but my fingers work just fine," he said, looking up at you and leaning over. His gaze darkened as he let his hand slide down between your legs, running his finger up the seam of your denim shorts and pressing gently against your clothed heat. You gasped and gripped his wrist.

"Joel," you whispered in a poor attempt to stop him as heat immediately bloomed between your legs. "You don't have to."

"I know. I wanna take care of you for once, please let me," he begged, leaning closer and wrapping his arm around your shoulders, tugging you towards him so he could slot his lips against yours while his other hand made its way to your hip, squeezing you there before he reached for the button of your jeans.

"Take these off," he whispered against your mouth after he pulled your zipper all the way down. You eagerly lifted your hips to pull down your underwear and shorts in one go, then brought your arms up to wrap around his neck as his tongue slid past your lips.

You were still sitting next to each other, the cast on his leg prohibiting him from doing much except sitting and laying on his back. You frowned when you realized this and pulled back, his mouth falling to your neck instead.

"How?" you asked him breathily. You slid your eyes shut and tilted your head back so he could gain better access to the underside of your jaw, letting out a low moan when he located your pulse point, his scratchy beard rubbing on your delicate skin.

"Sit on my lap," he mumbled against you before tipping his head in the other direction so he could pay the same mind to the other side of your throat.

"But, your -" you began, about to point out his many injuries were still healing before he cut you off.

"Sit on my fuckin' lap," he growled impatiently, his hands falling to your hips and giving you a forceful tug towards him. You decided to compromise, swinging your leg over to straddle him while you hovered above his hips, being mindful of applying too much weight. You brought your hands up to cup his face and crushed his lips with a bruising kiss, feverishly licking inside his mouth as you realized just how much you missed him, and that it had been so long since he last touched you. Even before the accident, his patrol route was exhausting him to the point where he was falling asleep before the sun set.

"Look at you," he whispered as he tipped his head back, breaking the kiss and looking you up and down, his eyes lingering at the way you were spread open for him. "I'm the luckiest son of a bitch in the world."

You felt your cheeks flush at the compliment, still taken aback at the change in him from just a few hours ago.

"Wow, what happened here when I was gone?" you asked him teasingly as you raked your fingers through his dark curls. Your breath hitched as he ran both his palms slowly up your bare thighs, squeezing gently as he made his way closer to the ache between your legs.

"Me and Tommy had a talk," he said, watching your face closely as his finger slid along your folds, causing you to jump.

"Easy," Joel murmured softly while pressing a warm kiss against your collarbone. You sighed and rolled your shoulders, trying to relax.

"It's been so long, Joel," you whimpered, trying to explain your reaction.

"I know, sweetheart," he cooed, bringing his middle finger back up to trace your seam again while his other hand held your hip steady this time. "Should be a fuckin' crime. You deserve to be worshipped every single day."

Joel sunk his middle finger inside you right as he finished his sentence, making you toss your head back with a moan. He smirked, always pleased he could pull those sounds out of you while he looked up to admire your face. Your eyes were squeezed shut, brows pinched, and your mouth hung open as you focused on the sensation of his thick finger stretching you out for the first time in weeks.

"So tight," he grunted, his eyes glazed over as he watched you struggle to find your breath while his finger slowly pumped in and out of your pulsing cunt. "Gotta relax."

You swallowed roughly and nodded, opening your eyes and softening your brow as you sucked air in through your parted lips. Once you felt yourself adjust, you began to bounce lightly on his hand, trying to match his rhythm, your fingertips digging into his shoulders for leverage.

"More," you whispered, licking your lips. Joel couldn't help the smug grin that spread across his face as he pulled his middle finger out of your pussy and popped it into his mouth, along with his pointer finger. You groaned when he gave you a satisfied wink at the taste. He brought his fingers back between your legs and pushed them both inside, your cunt immediately gripping his digits at the intrusion.

"Shit, that's it," Joel groaned, curling his fingers against your warm walls while he watched you bounce up and down on his hand again, this time with more force. You dropped your head to rest on his shoulder, your fingers digging harder into his arms.

"Remind me to thank Tommy tomorrow," you panted in his ear as a familiar pressure began building in your lower abdomen and warmth crawled up your chest and neck.

"He told me. 'Bout that night," he said through clenched teeth, trying to ignore his painfully hard cock. His other hand was held firmly on your hip, guiding you up and down to match the rhythm of his flicking wrist. He felt your hips stutter as you processed what he said, then you slowed down and leaned back to look at him.

"What about it?" you asked him quietly. He could sense your demeanor changing, so he lifted his thumb up to press against your clit, earning a sharp gasp from your throat before you reached down to stop him.

"What about it?" you asked again, firmly this time, staring down at him. He removed his hand from your hip so he could wrap it around the back of your neck, his thumb rubbing gently against your jaw.

"Told me how tore up you were, tryin' to see me," he whispered, his fingers pumping in and out of you painfully slow as he spoke. "How you couldn't eat or sleep, wouldn't leave my side." He swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he felt his eyes begin to water. He blinked quickly before asking, "all that true?"

You sniffed and nodded before you began to roll your hips against his hand again. His thumb stroked along your jaw as you gazed at each other, the atmosphere in the room shifting to one more serious.

"I was so scared, Joel," you admitted quietly, your voice small. "I thought you were going to die."

Your lower lip trembled for a moment as you reached up to run your finger gently down his stubbled cheek and then again down the length of his nose as if to remind yourself he was real, that he lived and he was going to be okay. You let out a soft whimper when he pressed his thumb back against your clit, circling the bundle of nerves.

"It's okay, I'm right here," he whispered, pulling you down so he could press his lips against your mouth quickly before resting his forehead on yours. He dropped his hand back to your hip and urged you to go faster, curling his fingers inside you again until he found that spot that made your back arch.

"I can't lose you," you gasped as two tears slid down your cheeks. You pressed your forehead into his harder now, the muscles in your stomach tightening as his fingers expertly began to pull an orgasm out of you. "I love you so much."

"I love you, too, sweetheart," he said, leaning forward to suck a bruise into the delicate skin on your throat. His chest ached for causing you so much pain, wishing desperately he could take it all away.

You felt yourself clamp down on his fingers as his thumb slid back and forth across your clit, quickly bringing you to the edge.

"Shit, I'm -" you gasped and tilted your head back, unable to finish your sentence as you felt your orgasm begin to wash over you, a filthy moan erupting from your throat. Your legs shook and your vision went spotty as you felt your neck and face flush from the intensity.

"Ohmygod, Joel - fuck - " you cried out, swinging your head forward to rest on his shoulder as you tried to catch your breath.

"You're so fuckin' beautiful, I love makin' you feel good," he mumbled against you, gently biting at your earlobe. His fingers slowed inside you, waiting until he felt your body relax before he pulled them out to palm his erection through his sweatpants. You hissed at the loss, your cunt clenching around nothing, already missing his touch.

Forehead still resting on his shoulder, you panted lightly for breath, and glancing down, watched as he ran his hand aggressively up and down his clothed cock, trying to find some relief. A lazy smirk spread across your face.

You reached down to swat his hand away and dipped your fingers below his waistband. Your other hand gripped the sweatpants you cut a pantleg off so he could fit his casted leg through, and, giving them a little tug down, watched as his hard length bobbed up and slapped against his stomach.

Wrapping your hand gently around his cock, you slowly began to drag your fist up and down, your thumb brushing over his slit and collecting the wetness there.

"Fuck, sweetheart, you - ouch," he gasped with a wince. You froze and lifted your hips up even higher, glancing down to make sure you didn't accidentally sit on him.

"I'm sorry, are you okay?" you asked, letting him go as you were about to swing your leg back over, but his hand shot up to stop you, gripping your thigh firmly to hold you in place.

"You're fine, wasn't you," he rasped, opening his eyes to look at you. "I moved my hips. When you touched me, I - nevermind, keep goin'," he said with a shake of his head and reached for your hand, placing it back around his erection.

"Are you sure?" you asked, but began to slowly move your fist up and down anyway. He nodded, his eyes sliding shut while he leaned his head back on the couch cushion.

"Yeah. Fuck, that's it - faster," he mumbled, one eye peering open so he could find your wrist to show you the pace he preferred.

"So impatient," you teased with a smirk, and he huffed. "But that's okay," you whispered, leaning forward as you twisted your wrist up and down his cock, feeling it pulse under your fingertips. "I'll give you whatever you want, baby."

"Don't say shit like that to me, gonna make me come way too fast" he said with a groan, his fingers releasing their death grip on your leg to press firmly against your overly sensitive clit again, making you cry out.

"Oh god, Joel," you whined, your head falling forward on his shoulder again. You could feel the tears pricking the corners of your eyes as your thighs shook, your body still too sensitive from your first orgasm.

"Can't wait til I can fuck you again," he gasped, another dribble of precum trickling over his tip as your fist continued to work him up and down. "I'm gonna spend the whole day inside this perfect little pussy, you hear me?"

You nodded, your head still resting on his shoulder, your eyes closed and your mouth agape as his fingers pressed quick circles over your clit. The pain from the overstimulation quickly subsided as your stomach began to tighten again, your breaths coming in short drags.

"Whole town's gonna hear you screamin' my name," he continued to ramble, squeezing his eyes shut as he felt the white-hot flames begin to burn in his lower abdomen. "All fuckin' day. Gonna be filled with my cock, or my fingers, or my tongue. You ain't gonna be able to walk the next day, I can promise you that."

You gasped his name, cunt pulsing around nothing as you felt a trickle of your release drip down your leg, his filthy words taking you right over the edge of your second orgasm. Your hand only paused for a second on his cock before you continued to jerk him up and down, faster now, wanting him to join you.

"Shit, I'm gonna come," Joel groaned, his hand falling from your center and his head leaning back so he could watch your fist work him.

"Wait," you said, shakily lifting your hips so you could bring your feet to the ground between his legs. Gently, you nudged his good leg to the side so he would give you more room to sink to your knees before him. You looked up at him through your eyelashes and opened your mouth, sticking out your tongue before wrapping your fingers around his cock again. You tapped the underside of his tip on the warm surface of your tongue, letting him know where you wanted it. With a low moan and his fingers clutching your hair, he watched, entranced, as his hot, white ropes of cum covered your tongue, his gaze darkening as you stared him right in the eye and swallowed with a smirk.

"I mean it, sweetheart," he panted, unblinking with a shake of his head. "All day. All fuckin' day."

"Don't make promises you can't keep, Mr. Miller," you told him, standing up and bracing yourself with your arms planted on either side of his head. You leaned down to give him a soft kiss before you twisted your body, collapsing on the couch next to him and tiredly pulling your clothes back on.

You laid there for a while, the side of your head resting on his good leg as you both caught your breath and stared mindlessly at the TV, not absorbing any of the dialogue while his fingers drew lazy circles on your back.

"I'm sorry I put you through all this," he said, breaking the silence. You turned your head so you could look up at him while he spoke. "Shoulda been more careful. That place was fallin' apart, I don't know what the hell I was thinkin'."

He looked down to meet your gaze, his eyes flitting across your face before he tucked a loose piece of hair behind your ear.

"You were thinking you had a town to help protect," you told him, sitting up. "That's what you do. You keep us safe, and you find things to bring back to help us survive." You reached a hand out to cup his face. "All that matters is you're going to be okay."

"No," he said, his hand coming up to cover the one you had pressed against his cheek. "You are all that matters." He pulled your hand away, giving it a quick kiss before holding it in his lap. "You are all I care about keepin' safe."

His eyes fluttered shut a moment before he sighed and opened them again.

"I've been lookin' for you my whole damn life. I ain't gonna fuck it up now," he said, his voice pained. "I promise you, I'll be more careful."

You scooted closer to him, leaning in to press your mouth against his, your lips pulling at his lower lip tenderly before leaning back. His hand came up to grip your chin, his thumb running gently over your lip.

"Will you sleep down here with me tonight?" he asked you earnestly. You nodded right away.

"Of course," you said with a small smile. "I was already planning on it."

The couch wasn't very big, so since his injury, you've been sleeping alone in bed. But after the emotional day, you each felt the urge to remain close. So, you gathered your pillows and an extra blanket and made yourself a bed on the loveseat, but somehow ended up squeezed onto the couch with Joel, curled up at his side, right where you both belonged.

Tag List: @chiogarza, @sparklejumpropequeen-777, @shotgun-shelby @partyofone3413 @nana90azevedo @ninaminaromina @amyispxnk @untamedheart81 @taz-97 @ilovemybrown-eyedbabygirl @orcasoul

[theblackestswan]

Silent Desires | #3

Synopsis — There was a time when you pondered how you'd ever let it be known how much you desired Jungkook. But now? He's back. And he's not being silent with his desires anymore.

• Jungkook × F!Reader

• Brothers best friend, childhood friends to somewhat strangers to lovers, smut, fluff, and a bit of angst

• explicit language

• word count: 1.4k+

previous chapter

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The smell of coffee swarmed your nose.

Seven am. Time to wake up.

"Another day, another dollar." You needed that dollar more than anything. It was the dreaded Monday morning, and you honestly thought about calling in sick, telling Jimin to tell Jungkook to not stop by, and just pretend like this never happened.

But you couldn't. You needed money.

You got up and headed for the shower. After you were done, you went to your closet and picked out your outfit. Thankfully, your work was very chill in terms of how you get to express yourself. You decided to go for a pair of black leggings, a graphic band tee, and your favorite Converse. You couldn't be bothered to do much to your hair so you threw it up in a messy bun.

You grabbed your phone, and your bag and headed to the kitchen.

Breakfast was not your thing. Never has been, never will be. So you settled on a couple granola bars, and a cup of coffee. It was now about 7:45am, and you knew Jungkook would be here at 8.

"Good morning my beautiful sister." Jimin grabbed himself his own cup of coffee and sat down next to you. "How you feel this morning?"

That's a great question. You didn't even have an answer for yourself. "I'm alright. Not pleased that Kook has to take me to work, but, here I am."

Jimin sighed and rolled his eyes "Y/N, it's okay. Trust me, he wouldn't have offered if he didn't want to."

But why does he want to? Why did he suddenly want to move closer to 'you guys'? Why does he suddenly want to be the Knight in shining armor in every situation?

"I'm not trying to sound ungrateful, I'm just confused I guess." Which is true. You were so confused.

"Confused about what?"

"Confused as to why he is doing all of this for me, I'm not his friend. You are, Chim. Not me." You tried to say this as softly as you could. You never talked to Jimin about how you felt towards his friendship with Jungkook.

You weren't mad at Jimin. At one point, yes, you were. But now? No. Jungkook and Jimin are best friends. They were made for each other. At one point you thought they could be romantic soulmates even. That was squashed when you overheard them talking about the head they had got in the bathroom of a club but...they have a friendship like no other.

But, you'd be lying if you said that having Jungkook here, brought back up all those feelings you once had. The feeling of being friends with Jungkook first, and him just disposing of you for your cool, older brother. Again, you weren't mad at Jimin. But why did it take Jungkook, all these years to suddenly want to start being friendly with you. He had the time before.

"Y/N, Jungkook was your friend first. And sure, maybe him and I hit it off even more, but maybe, with him being back down here, he wants to pick up your guy's friendship again. Just let it happen. He's a good guy who wants to help."

Jimin's right. He is a good guy, who obviously wants to help. But why? No one seems to be able to answer that.

Before you can dive more into the thought, your doorbell rang and it's surely no other than Jeon Jungkook.

"Hey man! How's your morning?" Jimin greeted him as he let him in.

"Going pretty good, and you?" Jungkook didn't take off his jacket or shoes, you guys will be leaving soon anyways, so no need.

"Just fighting with that one," Jimin motioned his head towards you in the kitchen, "about you. But, it is what it is." He smiled.

"What about me?" Jungkook was curious now.

"Well, she just doesn't understand what you're motive is for doing all this for her. Helping with her car, and taking her to work. She says that your my friend, and not hers." He shrugged.

Jungkook just nodded as he stared at the floor, "I see. I'll talk to her about it." He flashed your brother a soft smile.

You looked through your bag one more time to make sure you had everything. "Ready if you are."

Jungkook let out a small smirk, barely noticeable, "I'm more than ready."

~•~

Why couldn't you have picked a job closer to home? You were sure you were gonna pull your hair out of your scalp. There was so much tension in this car. You could feel it.

It was like both of you wanted to say something, but neither of you could find the words. The low sound of the music wasn't doing anything for you guys. This felt awkward. This felt weird.

Was there any oxygen in here?

Just as you were trying to figure out whether you hated the the man in the seat next you to, or you wanted to fuck him, he spoke.

"Y/N, I want you to know I'm doing all this for you because I care. No one is forcing me. So, please stop thinking that."

Fucking Jimin and his big mouth. Of course he told Jungkook.

All you could do was sigh. "Look, I'm grateful you're doing all this. So grateful. And I know I'm being a brat right now, but I can't figure you out. You are my brothers friend, not-"

"Stop saying that. I hate when you say that." His grip on the steering wheel tightened.

"Stop saying what Jungkook? The truth? You haven't spoken to me besides a few Facebook comments here and there, over the last 5 years. But you talked to Jimin every single day. You hang out with him almost every single weekend. And now you decide you want to come back down here and be friends with me again?" You were trying to not get too riled up seeing as you have to go to work soon.

Jungkook let out a deep breath he didn't even know he was holding in. "Y/N, it wasn't like that. Trust me, I had a reason for distancing myself. And you have every right to be mad at me. I shouldn't have just left you like you didn't matter to me, but trust me when I say, I always asked your brother about you. I always asked how you were doing, I always asked to see pictures of you, when you didn't post much online, I texted your brother to ask if you were okay. I care Y/N. Even if you can't see it, and damnit I didn't do a very good job at showing you, but I care."

You don't think you've ever seen Jungkook this vulnerable. He looked like he was about to cry, honestly. That softened your heart. You knew you shouldn't have been mad at him.

If you're being truthful with yourself, you too could also blame yourself. The phone goes both ways. Conversations involve two people. Yeah, him being better friends with Jimin, may have been the start of your divide, but you could have easily reached out too.

You could have asked Jimin to take you with to see him. You could have asked Jimin for his number, so you could send him a 'How are you?' text every once in a while. But you didn't.

And neither did he. But at least he asked about you. Did you ever ask your brother about Jungkook? No. Not once. You'd ask if they had a good time as they hung out, but nothing about him directly.

You were just as big of an idiot as he was, in all of this. Maybe even more so.

"Kook... I'm sorry." You couldn't even look at him right now. "I didn't know all of that. I'm sure you had your reasons for distancing, and that's none of my business, but I'm just as much to blame. I didn't try for our friendship just as much, actually... even less than you. At least, you asked about me, right?" You lightly chuckled.

Finally, turning his head to you as you were at a stop light, he gave you a soft smile. "Don't blame yourself. This was all me."

It wasn't. It truly wasn't.

"Kook, I think this should just be water under the bridge. If you're not mad, I'm not mad."

With an even bigger bunny smile, "I could never be mad at you."

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Taglist: @darkuni63

A note from our sponsor: Hiiiii *crickets* okay I know I said I would be updating frequently… but school has been crazy, and then the holidays and yeahhhh. But I’m going to try and get you guys caught up to Wattpad. Enjoy friends!!!

[piinksdoll]

→ [Victimology | Aaron Hotchner]

Pairing~ Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Bau!Reader

Genre~ fluff/angst/slightly suggestive

Word Count~ 2.3k

Warnings~ typical criminal minds gore, slight sa

a/n~ k so this part has slight sa and unwanted touching so if youre sensitive for that PLEASE DNI aldo MINORS DNI!!!! also this is not proofread so pls dont come for me!

part 1! part 2!

At the hotel

(Hotch’s Pov)

I watched her leave, a sudden sting of nervousness crawling up my spine. It wasn't like me to worry like this, to feel this unsettled, but something about the lack of her presence made it impossible to ignore. I clenched my jaw, forcing myself to remain composed, but the gnawing concern wouldn’t relent. Every instinct I had was screaming that letting her out of my sight was a mistake, and I hated that I couldn’t shake the feeling that this time, something was different, something was wrong.

I rushed out of our shared room, heart beating twice as fast, to JJ and Emily’s. I knocked softly on the hotel room door, my hand trembling at the thought of anything happening to Y/n. “Hey Hotch, what's happening?” Emily opened the door, the sound of her voice distant as I tried to voice my concern. 

“Is Y/n here? She said she was coming to get something from you guys and it's been a while. I just wanted to check in.” The furrow of JJ’s brows made my heart sink. “Hotch, she's not here.” I shook my head, not wanting to believe their words.

“I'm going to get Morgan, Reid and Rossi. Hotch. We will find her.” I heard Emily’s voice reassure me but still I couldn't shake the feeling in my gut. 

At the Unsubs house

(Narrator Pov)

Y/N's eyes fluttered open, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she struggled to lift her head and make sense of her surroundings. Her legs felt weak, almost as if they might give out beneath her, but she pushed herself to stand, forcing her body to cooperate. She scanned the room, desperate for any clue that might tell her where she was.

(Y/n’s Pov)

I scanned the room in front of me, taking in the elegant details. The floor-to-ceiling windows, the marble dining table, the white kitchen. It was the kind of place that seemed untouchable, the last place you’d expect to find a killer. ‘How could someone who lives like this be capable of such things?’ I thought.

A voice broke my trance. “Finally awake, are we?” It came from down the hall, and I turned to see a tall man emerging from the shadows, a slow smile spreading across his face. “I’ve waited far too long for this moment.”

My heart pounded as confusion washed over me. “What...what's going on? Who are you?”

He let out a quiet laugh, gaze dropping to the floor for a moment before meeting mine. “Who I am isn’t important. But you… you are exactly who I’ve been waiting for.”

“No,” I stammered, squeezing my eyes shut, willing myself to wake up from this nightmare. “No, I’m not. Why are you doing this? What did those other women ever do to you?”

He moved closer, sitting down on the couch across from me, his expression hardening. “Those women… they weren’t you. They didn’t understand, didn’t appreciate everything I was offering. They were defiant, ungrateful.” He leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. “But enough about them. This is about us now.”

He leaned forward, his gaze fixated on me with an unsettling intensity. “You, though... I knew the moment I saw you that you were different,” he murmured, almost reverently. I took a step back, trying to maintain distance, but there was nowhere to go, nowhere to hide.

“You don’t have to do this,” I pleaded, my voice barely above a whisper. “I’m not who you think I am.”

His expression hardened, a flicker of anger crossing his eyes. “Don’t say that,” he snapped, voice low and dangerous. “You’re exactly who I’ve been waiting for. You just need to believe it.” He reached out as if to touch my face, and I flinched away, heart pounding in my ears.

“Please,” I tried again, desperate to find some semblance of reason in his eyes. “This isn’t love. It’s not real.”

He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “You’ll understand soon enough.” He stood up, towering over me, I felt my breath catch. “But first, we need to make sure you don’t end up like the others.”

At the precinct

(Narrator POV)

The team all assembled at the precinct after discovering that Y/n’s missing. "Earlier, we asked Garcia to look into any males who recently went through a divorce, but what if we're looking at this the wrong way? What if, instead of a divorce, the unsub's wife or girlfriend passed away? It would explain a similar sense of loss but with an entirely different emotional catalyst." Aaron nodded at Spencer's words

“Alright Garcia, get me names of every male ages 25-35 who's recently had a death of a wife or girlfriend.” Aaron’s voice rang through the phone “Yes sir I've got a few. James Sterling lost his wife last mo- oh wait nevermind his wife was blonde.” 

Aaron let out a frustrated groan, raking a hand through his hair. “Hotch, don’t worry. We’ll find her,” Derek said, echoing Emily’s earlier reassurance. Just then, Penelope’s voice crackled through the phone. “I got a hit!”

The team snapped to attention, every ounce of their focus now on the speaker. A sudden wave of relief washed over Aaron, his shoulders dropping as the tension he’d been holding onto began to melt away.

“Alright Thomas Peters, a 27 year old male recently lost his fiance. They were together for 4 years. He proposed to her in Central park, they had their first date at the cafe in Greenwich Village, and she lived in Brooklyn.” Garcia rattled off, “Alright baby girl what's the address.” Derek cut her off “Yes, 5468 9th Avenue!” Penelope’s voice rang out with urgency, and just like that, the team sprang into action. Before they burst through the door, Rossi placed a hand on Aaron’s shoulder, stopping him. “We’ll find her, Aaron,” he said, his voice steady and reassuring. “And when we get her back, do me a favour, take your girl on a date. You both want to. Just do it.”

Aaron’s eyes flickered with surprise, a brief moment of hesitation in his expression before he nodded, the weight of their situation still heavy on his shoulders. But there was a flicker of hope there, too, a glimpse of what could be if they succeeded. Rossi's words hung in the air, a promise and a challenge, pushing him forward with a renewed determination.

At the Unsubs house

(Y/n POV)

"You're so beautiful. The things I want to do to you," he murmured, his voice dripping with a twisted sense of desire. A shiver ran down my spine, every word making my skin crawl. I took a step back, but he matched it, inching closer with every retreat I made, trapping me in this terrifying dance. My back hit the wall, and I froze as he caged me in with his arms.

“No. Please don’t,” I squeaked out, my voice barely above a whisper, but he only smiled, an unsettling gleam in his eyes. His hand slid up my thigh, and I could feel the warmth of his touch seeping through the fabric, my heart racing in pure panic. He leaned in closer, his breath hot against my ear.

“Shh, don’t fight it. This is what you were meant for,” he whispered, and I felt a surge of desperation rise within me, every instinct screaming to push him away.

He took my wrists into one hand trapping them. I moved my face away avoiding his lips. I felt hot tears rolling down my cheeks as I shook my head. Aaron please get here “Don't worry darling, you’ll learn to love it.”

I let out a scream, the sound tearing through the silence, but it was cut short by a sudden, searing pain. My head snapped to the side, and I tasted the sharp tang of copper on my tongue, warm blood filling my mouth. Dazed, I blinked through the tears stinging my eyes, trying to gather my thoughts, but the pain was all-consuming, grounding me in this horrifying reality. “You whore, I'm giving you everything and you're still an ungrateful bitch!” his voice ripped out in anger. 

(Narrator POV)

“Alright Prentiss, Reid sides of the house. Rossi, JJ back door. Me and Morgan will go in through the front.” Aaron felt his voice shake as they entered. Derek kicked down the door allowing the swat to head into the house first.

(Y/n POV)

Just as the last sliver of hope slipped away, I heard a loud crash and the front door burst open. "No!" Thomas roared, his grip tightening painfully around my hair as he yanked me up, forcing me to my feet. I gasped, the room spinning, but through the haze, I saw them, Aaron and Derek, weapons drawn, eyes wide with a mix of urgency and fear.

"Let her go," Aaron commanded, his voice steady but edged with a fury I’d never heard before. Derek took a cautious step forward, hands raised in a calming gesture.

“You don’t want to do this,” Derek said carefully, his eyes locked on Thomas. “It doesn’t have to end this way. Just let her go, and we can talk about this.”

I felt the cold press of a blade against my throat, and I stiffened, a small cry escaping me. “Don’t come any closer!” Thomas warned, his voice cracking. I could feel his entire body trembling behind me, the grip on the knife unsteady. “I’ll kill her! I swear I will!”

“Thomas, look at me,” Aaron said, his tone softer now, soothing yet commanding. “You don’t want to hurt her. She’s not her. You have a chance to stop this, right now.”

For a moment, I thought it might work. Thomas’s hand wavered, his breathing ragged, and I could feel the tension easing, just slightly. But then his grip tightened again, the knife digging in a little deeper, and I winced, feeling the sting of the blade bite into my skin.

“No!” he screamed, shaking his head violently. “No one else understands! No one else-”

The shot rang out before I even registered Aaron moving. One second, Thomas was there, holding me captive, and the next, his body jerked, the knife slipping from his grasp as he collapsed to the floor. I stood there, frozen, my knees buckling as I felt the warmth of Aaron’s arms wrapping around me, pulling me to safety.

“It’s over,” Aaron whispered, his voice steady even as I felt him shaking. “You’re safe now.” I glanced up at him “I was so scared Aaron. I'm sorry. I should've stayed in the hotel room.” I cried out. He shook his head as he brought me to the ambulance. “No, don't you dare apologise for what that monster did to you.” I sobbed on his shoulder.

On the jet home

(Narrator POV)

The team made their way onto the jet, Aaron helping Y/n every step of the way. He mulled over Dave’s previous words. Seeing her leaning on his shoulder, asleep beside him, her hair fell beautifully in front of her face. Her glossed lips parted softly as she let out soft breaths. Seeing her so peaceful made his heart swell with comfort. 

At Quantico

(Narrator POV) The team landed and without wasting any time, they made their way home leaving Aaron and Y/n alone at the office. 

“Hotch I can drive myself home, it's not a big deal.” Y/n tried to reassure Aaron, her tone light but persistent.

“No,” Aaron replied firmly, his eyes never leaving hers. “I don’t care. I’m taking you home, and you’re taking the next week off.”

Y/N scoffed, a defiant smile tugging at her lips. “Hotch, are you serious? I need one day, two at most.”

Aaron shook his head, stepping closer until there was barely any space between them. He took her hands in his, holding them with a care that made her heart skip a beat, as if any tighter grip would break her. He met her eyes, and for a moment, he was lost in the warm amber depths, his own expression softening.

“Y/N, please,” he began, his voice thick with emotion. “The moment I realised you were missing, I felt the same helplessness I felt when Haley-” His voice broke at the mention of his late wife, and he closed his eyes for a second, trying to regain his composure.

“Aaron, you don’t have to,” Y/N interrupted, her voice gentle, her hands squeezing his, offering comfort even in her own fragile state.

“No, I- I want to.” He thickly swallowed, gaining his voice to speak once more “When I thought I lost you, I felt something I hadn't felt in a long time. I didn't think I'd feel this way for anyone else in my life.” His confession hung in the air, raw and unguarded, and Y/N could see the vulnerability in his eyes, the way he was silently pleading for her to understand.

A smile tugged at Y/N's lips, her heart swelling with every word. Aaron took a deep breath, his voice trembling slightly as he continued, “Y/N, I love you. I know this is a lot, and I don’t expect you to feel the same way, but-”

She didn’t let him finish. In one quick move, Y/N reached up, pressing her lips to his, silencing his doubts with the kiss she’d been holding back for so long. For a moment, Aaron froze, stunned, but then he melted into her, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her closer, as if afraid she’d disappear if he let go.

The two pulled apart, both breathless, and Aaron’s eyes softened as he whispered, “Y/N, will you-” But she interrupted him again, a playful smirk dancing on her lips. “Yes, Aaron. Now shut up and let me kiss you.” Without giving him a chance to respond, she pulled him back in, capturing his lips with hers, feeling his smile against her mouth as he wrapped her up in his arms once more. 

As the two made their way home Aaron kept glancing over at Y/N, a soft smile tugging at his lips every time their eyes met, as if making sure she was still there, still real.

tag list~ @yourfavoritefangirl

[honey-on-your-tongue]

can you do a jake x reader smut where we have a huge argument and hes js so mad that he js fucks the anger out of the both of us? idk what else to say that js sounds hot as shit

😩😩😩😩😩😩

Sex as a solution to arguments? Yes please.

(irl it's not tho, babes. Keep that in mind 🙃)

-----

He's never back this late. He's never this late. Something must've happened. Something's wrong...

You chew on your nails as you pace your tent, heart racing, your thoughts eating away at you.

Where is he?

This isn't the first time Jake has gone on patrol at night. And it's the first time he's not back when he's supposed to be. But he's over two hours late...what could have possibly happened?

You're aching to hop on your ikran and find him, but you know the rules. You can't go out, you have to wait for him to come back.

It feels like years have passed by the time he finally shows up.

“Jake!” you gasp as he walks into your tent. You look him over, ensuring he's unhurt, finding a few bruises and a few scratches, but nothing major. “What happened?”

He gives you a sheepish look. “I, uh...Tsu'tey and I kinda got caught up 'cause we were chasing these palulukan off, and it sorta led us astray so it took a while to get back.”

You exhale sharply. “Again? You know your job isn't to mess around with the forest creatures, Jake. You're supposed to just keep a lookout for the Sky People.”

He shrugs slightly. “Well, yeah, but it's also fun sometimes.”

You can feel anger spark within you. “Fun?” you echo, crossing your arms. “I've been sitting here worried for the past two hours! And you're out having fun?”

He sighs softly. “I didn't mean to make you worry, I just—”

You scoff, cutting him off. “You never mean to make me worry. You always say so, and yet you keep doing it over and over again!” you snap.

“Hey, I've the right to go out there and have some fun. There's nothing wrong with that,” he replies, raising his voice. His amber eyes flash with frustration, his tail swishing uneasily.

“Maybe you could keep in mind the fact that I'm here waiting for you!” you yell back. “You're so self-centered, only thinking about having fun while I'm here wondering whether you're even fucking alive!”

He sighs. “You think it's intentional? That I leave you here to scare you?”

“I'm not saying that. I'm just saying you could be a little more mindful about me and maybe at least tell me beforehand that you're going to be late because you're going to be messing around with the forest creatures.”

“So now I have to report my every move to you?” he scoffs. “You want me to inform you of everything I fucking do?”

You exclaim, “That's not what I fucking mean and you know it. I'm just saying that it's not fair for you to leave me here, waiting for you without you telling me you might be late.”

“Even if I fucking told you, you'd make a big deal about it,” he snaps. “If I'm back late, you're upset. If I got distracted during patrol, you get upset. And apparently, if I don't tell you everything I'm going to do, you get upset.”

You exhale sharply. “You make it sound like I'm controlling you when you damn well know I'm worried for you.”

“Maybe you shouldn't worry. I think I'm old enough to take care of myself.”

“I'm just trying to help you!” you yell.

“Maybe you're only a burden instead of help!” he yells back.

You laugh bitterly. “That's it, then. You don't need me for anything else than to cook and have dinner waiting when you come home.” You sneer, but tears of anger and pain are welling in your eyes. “I see how it is, then.”

He narrows his eyes at you. “Don't you dare get that way with me, you know you're more than that.”

“How should I fucking believe you?” you yell. “All you have to show for how you feel are your empty words!”

“Just my empty words?” he scoffs. “I'm making sure this village is safe—that you're safe, and you complain?”

“Complain?!” you snap. “I'm worrying about you and you're being the ungrateful ass that you are!”

“I am not ungrateful, I just don't understand why you're so upset about this! It's my life, I don't have to keep you updated about everything, you know. I can take care of myself.”

You throw him a deadly glare. “I guess you'll always be human in that way, then. Because us Na'vi actually take care of one another.”

And that's it. The final straw for him. He loses it, anger flashing in his eyes as he grabs you by the throat and pulls you to him, roughly pressing his lips to yours.

“You—!” you exclaim, pushing him off you. He doesn't get to treat you that way and kiss it all away.

But he's stronger than you. He grabs you tight, holding you close, his lips forcing yours open and sliding his tongue into your mouth.

You gasp softly, hating how much you're enjoying this, wishing you had the willpower to move away. But you don't.

One of his hands starts going south, tracing over your torso, down your abdomen, to your pussy. He touches you through your loincloth, fingers pressing against your clit through the thin fabric.

You feel what he's doing and a semblance of sense pops back into your head. He can't treat me like that and fuck me and expect me to forgive him.

You bite his lip, making him grunt softly, but he holds you close, kissing you even though the taste of his blood invades your tongue.

He tugs you to him, holding onto your hip, his other hand undoing your loincloth before caressing your cunt, spreading your folds and touching you just the way he knows will make you wet.

You try not to, hope it doesn't get to you, but you find yourself whining, nails digging into his skin. “Jake—”

He shuts you up with another kiss before leading you to the ground. You're pissed, you want to keep fucking yelling and crying and making him angry. Instead, you let him. You let him take you to the floor, let him undress you, and in turn, you tug his loincloth off.

He chuckles darkly when he realizes that you're as eager as he is.

He runs the thick head of his cock between your folds, gathering the wetness at your entrance before sliding into you.

You whine softly, pussy throbbing around his long, thick cock.

“There you go,” Jake groans when his hips meet yours. “Oh, fuck.”

You grab onto his shoulders and he gives no warning as he starts rutting into you, the tip of his cock bruising your delicate cervix, each thrust knocking the breath from your lungs.

“Asshole,” you seethe between heavy breaths and little whimpers. “You're an asshole.”

“Shut up,” Jake says, pressing his lips to yours, kissing you like he's starving, like he's trying to tell you everything without saying a word.

You wrap your legs around his waist, your eyes fluttering shut, your body trembling as he fucks you.

You kiss Jake back with everything you have, all the anger, all the fear, all the love—all of it. You pour it onto his lips, your sharp canines dragging over his tongue when it slides inside your mouth, and he shudders softly.

He groans lowly as he breaks the kiss, moving his mouth to your neck. You mewl as he increases his pace, making your legs jerk with each hard thrust.

He bites on the skin of your neck, sucking on it, and you gasp. You already know the hickey you're going to have in the morning.

“This what you fuckin' needed, hm?” he says, biting you again. “You just needed me to teach you some fucking manners.”

You sink your nails into his back, making him grunt. “Stop fucking talking,” you seethe, your voice a mere whine as he continues to rut into you.

The sound of your soaked pussy is loud in your tent, the slap of Jake's hips against yours making you blush with the obscenity of it all.

Jake bites down on your shoulder, hard, and you fold your ears back, hissing softly. But the pain only adds to the pleasure. It makes you gasp and tremble, a heat spreading in your womb as he keeps fucking you.

You want to complain. You want to bite him and punch him and kiss him and tell him you love him. He's so infuriating, so fucking annoying. You hate that you can never stay angry at him, hate that he always finds the way to get your heart to soften for him. You wish you were immune to his charms, but it's damn near impossible for you.

You tangle your hands in his hair and pull, drawing his face to yours so you can kiss his lips. You feel him grin slightly as you do, his soft lips smirking into the kiss as you moan.

The pleasure within you is spreading, reaching across your skin like vines, taking root and making you see stars behind your eyelids.

You begin bucking your hips up, gasping as you feel yourself closer to the edge. You try to match Jake's pace, but he's going too hard for you to keep up. Besides, he's already fucked you half dumb, there's not much you can do but take it.

Jake can tell when you're going to come. He can feel the way your pussy grows tight around him, sucking him in, making it harder for him to fuck you. Still, he keeps going, relishing in the sensation of your slick dropping down his balls. He grunts with each thrust, ensuring he fucks you as deep as he can and in return, he receives your little whimpers and moans. He watches your face as your eyes roll into the back of your head, and he knows you're right there.

And still, the stubborn little thing you are, you bite your lip, trying to keep quiet as you come, but Jake fucks you harder, forcing you to let out a gasp followed by a loud moan that has his own orgasm nearing.

He continues to rut into you, again and again, groaning and gasping until he comes. His load fills you, making you shiver, and he's left caging you under him, your body trembling.

He pulls out of you, leaning on his knees to see the way his cum drips out of your swollen, raw pussy.

His eyes scan up your body until he meets your gaze, and something within him softens.

He crawls beside you, laying down at your side and spooning you. You cross your arms, obviously still upset, and he presses a few soft kisses on your shoulder.

“I'm sorry,” he tells you, his voice quiet and gentle. “I'm sorry. You're right, you're only worrying about me, and I'm being an asshole. I didn't mean to scare you, baby. I never do. Sometimes I just get carried away by the excitement when we're out in the field. But I promise it won't happen again. Truly.” He kisses the side of your neck, one of his hands caressing your hip. “I'm sorry, baby. I'm truly sorry. I'll let you know beforehand when I plan on taking a little longer out during patrol.” He kisses your cheek gently. “I love you. So much. And I don't want you to think that all I need you for is to take care of the house. You know you're everything to me. You're my sun and my moon and my stars. You're everything. Without you, I'd be empty. You know that. Please, baby, don't ever think that you're nothing but an asset to me. Because you're not. You're my woman, my wife, my baby. You're everything to me, love. I don't know what I'd do without you.”

You turn around to face him, your eyes softened.

“Do you forgive me?” he asks softly.

You smile gently at him. “You're forgiven,” you say.

Relieved, Jake leans towards you and places a soft kiss to your lips. He doesn't know what he'd ever do without you.

-----

@kamcrazy123 @yagirlheree @sweetllamaparadise @neytirishottie @crazy4books1

-----

Blog masterlist

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for telling my mom to either get me what I've asked for, or to just get me gift cards?

This probably makes me sound horrible and ungrateful, but this is an issue I've had for about the last ten years of my life. I love my mother dearly, and I am so insanely grateful that we are in a financial position where we can receive gifts at all. I'd genuinely be happy with just a card and a cozy day in, but my mom always insists it isn't Christmas without at least one or two things under the tree.

I always ask her routinely as we inch toward the later months of the year what she'd like, and I do my best to get her exactly what she wants. I'll get her one or two other things too, like some skincare or chocolates or shoes or something, but I always stick to what she actually asks for.

If she asks me for a specific dress, she'll get it. If she asks me for a certain type of perfume, she'll get it.

The same....Cannot be said for her.

I've begged her over the years to just stick to getting me what I ask for. I don't ask for anything expensive. I think the most expensive thing I've ever asked for were concert tickets, and I offered to pay half. I just more or less wanted help actually getting them, because as we all know, concert tickets sell so fast its like you blink and they're gone, and the more people you have trying to get them the more chances of success.

Usually I'll ask for something like a particular poster I saw online, or a bedding set, a new phone case, ect. Small, easy to get things because honestly, I don't need that much.

What I actually end up with is a bunch of random stuff I will never use and clothing I'd never wear and once or twice, tickets to do things I hate doing.

Its like she asks me what I want then goes out of her way to get me the exact opposite of what I've asked for. She always pouts at me and berates me for 'looking disappointed' or never using anything she gets me (I hold onto it for a few months then quietly give it away to a friend or thrift store).

It makes me feel guilty, but this is a conversation we have every. Single. Christmas.

(For example I'll ask for, say, a pair of white shoes. What I'll actually get is a box of wind up toys from the dollar store, expensive paint brushes when I've never touched paint in my life, and a box of chocolates from a brand I don't like.)

This year, once again, she asked me for my list, and I just gave her some stores and told her I'd like gift cards to those places. She gave me a weird look and dropped it, but asked again a few times, and each time I just reiterated what stores I wanted gift cards to.

Well lo behold, I come home from college and there's packages under the tree. Proper packages, not just envelopes or anything else that a gift card would realistically be in.

I guess I was staring at the tree with a weird/sour expression, because it wound up starting an argument between us. Her argument was she's getting me gifts, I should be grateful, and she tries really hard but I'm just 'impossible to please.'

My argument is I tell her repeatedly exactly what I want and not once have I ever gotten what's actually on my list. In which case, why the fuck should I bother writing a list? I'd rather have the gift cards so I can buy exactly what I wanted in the first place.

She said I ask for clothes, I get clothes. I said I ask for specific clothes and she gets me ones that I wouldn't even look at in the store, let alone buy.

The whole argument ended up with her calling me an ungrateful asshole and confiscating my gifts to return them all after the New Year. She told me I can just have the money from returning them and 'be fucking happy for once.'

Its Christmas Eve and she's still not speaking to me. I feel terrible, but I'm also relieved. Either this means from now on she won't get me anything, or from now on if she asks for my list she'll actually get me what's on it.

My dad is staying in the middle. He said I'm right, and over the years he's tried to convince her not to buy all that stuff, but he also said I should've just done what I always do, fake a smile, and get rid of it later.

Is he right or was this fight a blessing in disguise? Am I the asshole for ruining Christmas or am I justified in voicing what I have for the last ten years running?

What are these acronyms?

[macsimagines]

Could I ask for Kisaki, Rindou, and Draken with partners that are insecure? Like they truly believe that their boyfriend/husband could do so much better than them

I've done this one already for Kisaki and Draken here but I can def do one for Rindou!! this is kind of like a part two to my EX! Ran Haitani headcanon set!! also idk why text colors are being weird i'll try to fix it later on

TW: YANDERE BEHAVIOR, MINORS DNI,

Yandere!Rindou Haitani

He loves you, adores you even. You're so soft and kind compared to his hard and mean. Rindou has always taken pride in being who he is. He's a Haitani brother, feared allover Tokyo and a ruler in charge of Roppongi.

But for you? Just you- He's Rin. Your loving boyfriend that is never too busy to spend time with you and never lacking in affection. He'll hold your hand gladly or throw a reassuring arm over your shoulder.

All the love in the world can't stop the thoughts in your head though. He's so much more than you'll ever be. You've seen him in action and his strength and overwhelming capabilities compared to your...to your anything just made you feel so dull in comparison.

Rin is beautiful, he catches the eye of every woman you walk past on the street. Rin is strong, he can beat men without breaking a sweat. Rin is powerful, he has people that flock to him at his beck and call and you are nothing.

"I just... I just think I'm holding you back," you tell him, over the phone because you're too much of coward to say it to his face, "I want... I want what's best for you-!" "What the fuck are you talkin' about, you're what's best for me! Baby-please-!" "I can't! I'm not enough, I'm sorry Rin."

And you hang up the phone, block his number. Its better this way, you're sure by this time next week he'll have moved onto someone else, someone better that could keep up with someone as amazing as him.

But then something unexpected happens. His brother comes looking for you. Rin warned you about him once, said that after a bad breakup with his girlfriend he hadn't been the same.

"I thought they got back together though?" you had asked him confused after he had told you. He never answered you back, just got this weird look on his face before giving you a warning; "Try not to get too close. And try not to piss him off."

Yet here he was, at your doorstep staring you down like you were the scum of the earth. Apparently you hadn't heeded the warning.

"Havin' fun?" he asks, not even blinking while he towers over you, and your voice is caught in your throat, too scared to even make a sound at the older Haitani. "Cause I'm sure fuckin' not."

And suddenly he's grabbing you by the hair so tight you're scared he's going to rip it from your skull, but no, he's dragging you out the door and down the steps of your apartment ignoring your cries and screams for help.

Muttering something the whole way to his car. Something like "...You bitches and the games you like to play. Fuck with our heads, you and my girl always got make fuckin' problems for us-"

Then he's shoving you into the passenger seat making sure you can't get out. One moment you feel like you've found your voice again and then the next it leaves you because Ran has a gun pointed right at you only seconds later.

"Your gonna fix this you ungrateful bitch," he spits, eyes so full of hate it makes you want to curl in on yourself, "Put my baby brother back together and act like you like it. Like you fuckin' love it. Or I'll kill you my damn self and make you regret makin' a fool out of the Haitanis. Do you understand, Y/N?"

You're not sure if you say yes or if you even or in affirmation before he's pulling out of the parking lot and speeding dangeroulsy to some unknown destination.

And you are crying, silently shaking and sobbing because you're so scared of what he's going to do and he's still holding the gun right at your head, muttering to himself yet again.

"I'll make it right- I'll fix him and he'll be ok- fuckin' women making us loose our goddamn minds-,"

Finally you pull into a warehouse, abandoned by the looks of it and new found fear arises in you- Is this where Ran is going to kill you? But no.... This is where Rin is.

You see him first, his eyes are dark and he looks so tired from his usual self, and his expression is so empty, so emotionless that you're worried for a split second but then you see...the man. At least that's what he used to be.

His face is beaten in, and his body is contorted in such a mangled way you're sure his limbs had been broken, and Rin is on top of him. Pummeling away at the already red and mangled face.

You can't help the small gasp that leaves you and you probably would've ran out there screaming had Ran not been holding you by the neck.

But your scream was enough to alert the younger Haitani, and he turns to look at you with eyes wild like an animals. "Y-Y/N?" he whispers standing on shaking legs, "B-baby is that you?"

It didn't matter how hard you tried you couldn't make out a single sound, too shocked by the scenes unfolding around you. Thankfully, Ran wasn't short on words....

"Ya, I brought Y/N here 'cause she has somethin' to say," Ran shoves you forward, making sure that the gun at his side is always within your view. A silent reminder of what he made you promise...

Rin doesn't let you get any words our before he's embracing you with bloodied hands, smearing another persons bodily fluid all over you... "Oh baby, please tell me you're back, please? Its been hell, I can't do this without you, I'm loosin' my fuckin' mind."

Its like your brain suddenly catches up with you. You have to say yes or else... "I-I'm back," you nod, hugging him back with shaking hands, "I'm... I'm sorry Rin."

And suddenly he's sobbing, pulling you away only so he could hold your face in his bloody hands to look into your eyes, "How could you do this to me, I love you so much,"

Ran once again, speaks. "You need to keep her in line," he tells his younger brother, much to your dismay, "Like I keep my girl. Don't worry. I'll teach you."

You could never leave Rin Haitani. Shame on you for even trying.