#if youre already like this i think maybe youre beyond threatening

[1800-fight-me]

Begin Again

Rick Grimes x Female!Reader

Rating: M (Mature- As always- MINORS DO NOT INTERACT)

Warnings: Angst, canon level violence, cursing, yearning

Word count: Almost 4k

Synopsis: You have feelings for Rick that you're convinced are unrequited and it's made you irritable with your group. But what if you were wrong?

Author’s note: This is set sometime after the jail but sometime before Alexandria, but I took liberties with the timeline as well. I hope you enjoy!

P.S. I do not have a taglist! Instead if you would like to be notified when I post new fics follow my side blog @jo-writes-fanfic and turn your post notifications on! Comments and reblogs make my day! Main Masterlist

“I need five minutes away from you and your incessant talkin’,” you grumbled as you sheathed your hatchet and walked away from Eugene. 

Of course it was your luck you got paired with the rambling coward in the group’s efforts to clear out the building for a safe place to sleep for the night. 

“Wait! But I-” 

“Don’t wanna hear it,” you snapped as you walked away. You’d already cleared out your designated area and the others would finish soon, you weren’t leaving Eugene in any danger. You just needed some air. 

It wasn’t his fault you were so irritable. It was your own fault for developing unrequited feelings for the leader of your group and then getting your feelings hurt every time he showed zero interest towards you.

You walked out the back of the abandoned warehouse and sat on the steps right outside the door. You took deep breaths as you looked up at the stars. 

It was ridiculous and embarrassing, you knew that. There were far more important things to worry about, to get worked up over- like surviving each day. Killing walkers and any who threatened your group- that was essential, not your stupid crush. 

And Rick, he had so many responsibilities on him- two children (one of whom is a baby), the safety and wellbeing of the entire group (which had been particularly difficult lately), and constant pressure to make life or death decisions (you had admit, he was pretty good at that). You couldn’t, and shouldn’t expect him to notice you or care about your emotions beyond the others in the group. 

But, God - you wish he would. You wish he wanted to be around you. You wished he trusted your capabilities more. But no, he never wanted you right by his side in dangerous situations. That honor was always given to Daryl, or Glen, or Michonne. People he had more trust in. 

You’d been there since the beginning- since the quarry camp and you’d come a long way in terms of fighting, just like so many others. But it seemed like all Rick saw was the scared young woman he’d first met. 

He always grouped you with others in the group he also didn’t trust as much- like Eugene or Gabriel. It was infuriating. 

You also knew that Rick was a man of few words, but you couldn't help but notice that he had even less to say to you than others he was closer with. Despite the fact that you volunteered to help take care of Judith more than anyone else in the group. 

Your feelings for Rick- of affection, of love, of lust, were turning sour and rotten inside of you and twisting into something closer to jealousy and resentment. 

Getting worked up was pointless, Rick would never look at you the way you look at him you realized as you wiped the tears from your eyes and took deep breaths. 

But maybe a few extra minutes alone wouldn't hurt. 

You leaned against the handrail on the side of the stairs and tried to think about anything but Rick. The gorgeous curls of his grey streaked hair, his beard that looked way too good even when coated in blood, his intense blue eyes, the low timbre of his voice, his protectiveness for those he cares about…

You hadn’t even realized you drifted off to sleep until the sound of growling and snarling woke you. The hatchet was in your hand immediately as you jumped up and took a defensive stance. Four walkers were close, one of which nearly grabbed you, but you side stepped it and buried your hatchet in its forehead. 

Its dead weight pitched forward, it was a man twice your size, and landed on top of you. 

“Shit!” you yelled as your head hit the concrete and your vision went momentarily fuzzy. You held tight to your hatchet and swung it with a groan as another walker launched itself and landed on top of the dead one on top of you. 

You heard a deep voice yell your name. 

“Here!” you gasped out as blood sprayed in your face as the second walker died- its dead weight crushed the air out of your lungs. Two more were reaching for you but they couldn’t quite reach you and you couldn’t quite reach them. 

You heard the disgusting sound of a blade slicing into the brains of the walkers before the bodies of the others were hauled off you. 

“Thanks.” 

You took gasping breaths as you sat up and your eyes met Rick’s blazing blue gaze. 

“Are you alright?” he asked- concern evident in his voice and in the tension of his body as he knelt beside you.

He placed his large hand on your shoulder and you looked up at him in surprise.

“Just peachy,” you replied, “not a bite or a scratch on me, I promise.” 

He hung his head in relief as he let out a deep breath and his fingers tightened slightly on your shoulder. 

“What the hell were you thinkin’ bein’ out here alone?” he hissed through gritted teeth. 

You sighed deeply. 

“I didn’t mean to doze off. You stuck me with Eugene again and I needed some alone time,” you grumbled. 

He let out a huff of what might’ve been a laugh as he placed a finger on your chin and tilted it upwards so you would meet his eyes again. 

“I thought you liked Eugene, you’re always laughin’ at him.” 

You blinked in surprise and your mouth opened slightly. 

“Like him? He’s an idiot… that’s why I laugh,” you said with your eyebrows furrowed. 

“Hm. Well I also pair you with him and Gabriel since you’re one of our best fighters and teachers and I was hopin’ they’d learn somethin’,” he hummed as he turned your face back and forth just to double check that you were unharmed. 

“Wait, what? That’s what you think of me?” you blurted out. 

He raised a brow at you and a small smile played on his lips. 

“Of course, what did ya think?” 

You shrugged and looked down as your face flushed with heat. “Thought you stuck me with ‘em cause you thought I was the same as them.” 

This time he did truly chuckle. 

“Wow. I thought you’d think better of my leadership. It wouldn’t make much sense to put the weakest links together, they’d die. Ya wanna put the strongest with the weakest so they learn to be stronger,” he explained while nodding his head. 

“Oh. Yeah. That does make more sense,” you muttered. 

He smirked at you and you swore your heart skipped a beat. 

“Promise me you won’t go sleepin’ outside on your own again and I’ll give you a break from Eugene,” Rick said fervently. 

“Deal,” you agreed all too quickly which caused a rough chuckle to slip past his lips again. 

“C’mon darlin’, let’s go back inside with the others- you can nap in there where it’s safer,” he encouraged as he stood and offered you his hand. 

Your heart fluttered at the affectionate nickname. You slid your hand into his much larger calloused hand and you had to actively stop your mind from wandering down a path of wondering how those hands would feel on the rest of your body. 

You followed him back into the warehouse and then into the big open room everyone had begun to make camp in. He placed a hand on your back as he led you to sit next to him. 

“You hungry?” he asked as he pulled granola bars out of a backpack and started to pass them out to everybody. 

“Yeah, thanks,” you mumbled and his fingers brushed against yours for far longer than necessary  as you took the snack that would count as everyone’s meal for the night from him. It was better than the group’s dinner last night of absolutely nothing. 

Today’s scavenging was more successful, thank God. Your group still needed to find a more permanent living situation, and this warehouse did not seem like the solution. But you weren’t in the habit of borrowing tomorrow’s worries. No, you were just glad you made it through another day alive and without losing anyone you cared about. 

Maggie handed Judith to Rick and he placed a kiss on her forehead before settling her on his lap. She giggled at you as you made silly faces at her. 

Your name was called in a very nervous voice and you looked over as Eugene approached you. 

“I would be remiss if-” 

“I’m sorry Eugene,” you cut him off. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I was an ass.” 

“While I do appreciate that, I also understand that I have a tendency to over-articulate in a way that can be grating on the nerves at times. So, I do apologize for becoming a pain in your rear end lately,” he said with a nod of his head that shook his ridiculous mullet. 

You let out a soft laugh. “It’s fine, dude. We’re good,” you reassured him. 

He nodded again then went back to his spot near Abraham and Rosita. 

You looked over and realized Rick was watching you with raised brows. 

“What?” you asked. 

“I’m not sure I’ve ever seen you be that nice before,” he said in a teasing tone and a playfulness in his light blue eyes. 

You opened your mouth to reply but he said, “To anyone but the kids at least.” 

“I’m plenty nice,” you snapped, “to everyone but you.” 

He laughed and you muttered, “Shut up” as you began to adjust your backpack so you could lay your head on it. 

You quickly turned your body away from him as you laid down so he couldn’t see the smile that adorned your lips. 

You woke the next morning after nearly a full night’s sleep, which was a miracle in the post-apocalyptic world you lived in, to a jacket with a woollen collar laid atop you. You weren’t quite as successful at hiding your smile this time. 

You yawned as you sat up and stretched and the jacket slid to your lap. It was clear you were one of the last to wake as most everyone was quietly moving around as they prepared for the day. 

“You’re up! Finally! Dad said I had to let you sleep, but Judith has been wanting you,” Carl said from across the room. 

You smiled, “I’ll take the little princess.” You reached your hands out and Carl crossed the room and placed Judith in your waiting arms. She giggled at your teasing as you spoke to her in a high voice and tickled her. 

You noticed the granola bar carefully left next to your backpack and your heart warmed before you tore into it and devoured it in a few bites. 

A few minutes later everyone seemed almost packed up and ready to go, you included. You’d gotten good at multitasking- holding and caring for Judith while taking care of other tasks (including sometimes killing walkers) had become a breeze for you. Rick came back inside the building as he holstered his gun and surveyed everyone’s progress. 

“Let’s move out in five. We’ve got a lotta ground to cover today,” he ordered and everyone either nodded or made sounds of agreement. 

He crossed the room as he came towards you and knelt down next to where you sat. He gently held Judith’s hand and the fondness in his gaze as he greeted her made your heart clench. As did the fact that he still had a soft look in his eyes when he looked up from where Judith sat in your arms and said, “Mornin’”. 

“Hey,” you replied with a small smile. “Thanks for letting me sleep in. I feel much less grumpy.” 

“Anythin’ for you, darlin’,” he said with a wink before he stood up and offered you his hand. You allowed him to help you stand and struggled to hide how flustered he made you, especially when he squeezed your hand before letting go. You handed him his jacket back, which he took and promptly put on.

“It’ll also help the overall morale of the group if you’re not snappin’ at everybody,” he teased. 

You scoffed and shoved your shoulder into his as you walked past him, but once again couldn’t stop yourself from smiling. You glared at Maggie when she wiggled her eyebrows at you which only caused her to laugh. 

The day continued on with your group once again hiking under the hot sun in an attempt to find more supplies and better shelter. The routine had become somewhat monotonous, but the constant life threatening situations made it feel a bit less so. 

Today, the group stumbled upon an abandoned superstore. Rick ordered everyone to split up in pairs to explore and scavenge. 

He asked Carl to stay outside with Judith and for Carol to protect them both. 

When he called your name, you expected as usual to be grouped with one of the less combat inclined of your traveling companions but couldn’t stop your expression of surprise as he said, “You’re with me. Alright everyone, be quick and quiet and grab anything that could be potentially useful. Let’s go.” 

The group split into their designated pairs and began to enter the store. Enough scouting had already been done that it seemed abandoned by walkers as well, but still it was always important to be cautious. 

You followed Rick as he made his way to the back of the store to explore your assigned area. Hatchets in hand, you both made your way through the aisles without speaking in order to ensure you didn’t draw any of the dead in case they were hidden out of sight. 

Finally, when everything seemed all clear Rick pulled off his backpack and you helped him to fill it with supplies. 

You quietly searched the shelves and shoved aside anything useless. You tossed a bottle of ibuprofen at Rick- which he caught and dropped in his pack before he turned to search the shelf across from you. 

Your gasp caused him to whip back around towards you with his hatchet raised. 

“Look what I found!” you said excitedly, still cautious enough to keep your voice low. 

Rick sighed deeply as he returned his hatchet to his belt and gave you an annoyed look as he glanced between your face and the unopened bag of mini chocolate donuts. They were most likely still good considering they’re chock full of preservatives. 

You didn’t even know how long it had been since you had chocolate and your mouth was already watering at the thought. 

“What?” you asked. “Y’don’t want any?”

He rolled his eyes and went back to searching for supplies. 

“Fine, suit yourself. I was willin’ to share with you, but I’m not sharin’ with anybody else,” you grumbled as you shoved the donuts into your own backpack. 

You heard him laugh softly and you smirked triumphantly. Your ability to dissuade the grumpiness and bring amusement to one another filled your heart with a light you hadn’t felt in a long time. 

“We should check that back storage room in case there’s extra stuff back there that they never had the chance to put out on the floor,” you whispered after the two of you had cleared several aisles having only found a couple of necessities. 

“Good idea,” he replied and led the way. 

You followed his lead as you kept your hand on your hatchet. 

There didn’t seem to be any walkers in the back, but it was dark. You held a flashlight while Rick ripped open boxes. You looked around the dark room, searching for any kind of movement in the dark as a sinking feeling plagued you.

He looked back at you with a grin on his lips and a twinkle in his eye as he held up a protein bar. 

“I think you might be a genius, this whole box is full of ‘em,” he said as he gestured to the large cardboard box before him. 

Your eyes widened in a look of horror. His brow furrowed but before he could even open his mouth to ask, you threw a knife at him. 

It flew so close to his head that his curls rustled in the wind it created before it buried itself in the forehead of the walker whose teeth were inches away from Rick’s shoulder. 

A look of shock overtook his expression as he looked between you and the walker, but you weren’t done. You yanked out your hatchet and stalked past him and took out the two walkers who were rounding the corner and heading towards the two of you. 

Rick came up behind you with his hatchet in hand as well, but all seemed to be clear. 

You took heaving breaths to calm the adrenaline that ran through your body. 

You both holstered your weapons, including yanking the knife out of the walker’s forehead and wiping it clean, and Rick's hand encircled your wrist as he pulled you to turn to face him. 

His eyes were still wide with surprise. 

“Thanks.” 

You shrugged. “Don’t mention it.” 

“No, I’m gonna. You just saved my ass,” he said fervently as he stepped closer to you. 

It was like he’d just had this realization that you always supported him, always helped him, always had his back.

“Isn’t that what we do for each other? We’ve got each other's backs. That’s why our group works,” you replied. 

He nodded but continued to look at you with such intensity that it made you take a step backwards and your back bumped into the wall behind you. 

“Do you look at Daryl like this when he saves your ass?” 

He shook his head and in a low gravelly tone said, “No.” 

He looked ready to devour you as he took another step closer. Your breath caught in your throat. 

“Rick?”

“Fuck it,” he muttered under his breath. 

He practically lunged forward, one hand landed on the wall next to your head and the other spanned the side of your face to the back of your neck as he tilted your head up. His body pressed against yours, effectively trapping you between his heat and the wall. 

Before you could even breathe, his lips were on yours. The brush of his beard was harsh against your skin as his lips firmly pressed against yours.

Your hands reached up to grip the curls at the base of his head, threading your fingers through the surprisingly soft hair. He took that as encouragement and deepened the kiss. 

With a groan his lips pried yours open and his tongue pillaged your mouth with an intensity that left you whimpering. The heat of him, the taste of him, the fierceness of him was overwhelming and you kissed him back with all the passion he gave you. 

It could’ve gone on for minutes, or maybe hours, you didn’t know but you never wanted it to end. You were ready to give him everything he wanted and more, but the sound of footsteps behind Rick had him yanking back from you. He whipped around, his gun already raised and cocked as he held a hand behind him to protect you and keep you safe behind his back. 

Your lips still tingled from his affection, and as you peered around his shoulder you huffed in annoyance. 

“S-sorry. I was elected to determine the whereabouts of both of you but as I have observed with my own two eyes, your safety is not currently in question. Therefore, I will take my leave, but you should know should this rendezvous continue on that the whole group is ready to move on out and is waiting on your approval and presence to do so. Yours truly will take leave now and report to the others that the waiting will continue for a little while longer,” Eugene rambled. 

Rick sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose as he lowered his weapon. He still didn’t move an inch so you continued to be stuck between him and the wall. It honestly wasn’t a bad place to be, you weren’t complaining. 

“Jesus, Eugene, it’s fine, just tell everyone to come help us carry these supplies,” Rick ordered. 

“Yes sir,” Eugene replied quickly and turned around and left just as quickly. 

You laughed quietly and Rick turned back around- still not giving you an inch of space- and placed both hands on the wall on either side of your head and leaned down so his face was incredibly close to yours. 

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” he murmured before he kissed you again. This kiss was slow, gentle, and full of warmth. The kind of kiss that might’ve been your first kiss if you weren’t living in a time of death and desperation for survival. 

His lips lingered on yours long enough that you worried others would stumble upon the two of you again. You weren’t keen on having an audience, particularly not Eugene- you’d heard a rumor that he was into voyeurism of his friends which you certainly didn’t want to have anything to do with. 

“Then what took you so long?” you asked in a teasing voice as Rick’s lips finally separated from yours and he took a step back as he ran a hand though his grey streaked curls. 

“Well at first I thought you had a thing for Eugene, not me,” he replied. 

You rolled your eyes. “Thought you were smart,” you muttered. 

He grabbed your shirt and yanked you into his body. “Don’t be a smartass,” he reprimanded, but his lips found yours again in a brief kiss that negated all the harshness in his tone. 

“I worried, I worried about too many things. But yesterday almost losin’ you and today with you saving me… I realized all those worries were ridiculous when none of us are guaranteed tomorrow. I couldn’t even think about losing you, especially not without you knowin’ how I feel about you,” he said with such fervency. 

His confession left you breathless. 

“I- I worried too much too. Worried that you’d never feel the same way I did. Worried that if I ever told you I’d lose you,” you said, your voice so quiet it was practically a whisper. 

All of the reasons you’d both withheld yourselves seemed frivolous now as light filtered through the murky window on the other side of the room and bathed Rick in the brightness of new opportunity and fresh start. A chance for new love despite the horrors of the world. 

So you kissed him once more, this kiss but a brief touch of lips, a taste of something more that was to come, a sweetness only utter devotion could bring. 

All too soon, he stepped back far enough that as many in your group came through the swinging doors it would not appear that anything had changed between the two of you. 

To everyone else, finding the stock of food in the back of that abandoned grocery store was the only life altering thing that had occurred. But when you met Rick’s ocean blue eyes you realized you could drown in the affection you found in his gaze. 

All the former awkwardness and miscommunication between the two of you was completely forgotten as you smiled at him and he smiled back- eyes crinkling- and the whole world felt anew with possibility. 

[jia127zen]

Mine to ruin

jungwoo x fem!reader

genre:smut, dacryphillia, jungwoo is a menace to say the least😭

any interactions are very appreciated🤍

Jungwoo knew you were ovulating. He always knew. You were extra touchy tonight, bumping your foot against his under the restaurant table, dragging your fingers along his wrist as you laughed at something he said. And the way you were looking at him? Eyes half-lidded, flicking down to his lips, then back up as you bit your own? Yeah, he knew.

You thought you were being subtle, but Jungwoo noticed everything. The way you leaned into him just a little too much, letting your chest brush against his arm, the way your thigh clenched every time his hand landed on your knee. He could feel the heat radiating off you, could hear those tiny, shaky exhales whenever he shifted closer.

And oh, was he having fun with it.

On the drive home, he let his palm rest on your thigh, rubbing slow, lazy circles over the fabric of your dress. He wasn’t doing much, but it was enough. Enough to make you squeeze your thighs together in frustration, enough to make you let out the tiniest little whimper when his fingers just barely grazed higher. He smirked, glancing at you at a red light—your lips were parted, your eyes hazy.

Oh, you were so worked up.

By the time you got home, you were beyond done. Every little thing about him was making you feral—his broad shoulders, the way his shirt sleeves were rolled up just enough to show off his forearms, his slightly tousled hair. Fuck. You were already thinking about how good he’d look above you, hair falling into his eyes as he fucked you into the mattress.

But Jungwoo? He was dragging this out.

You stomped into the bedroom, stripping off your dress in the bathroom, throwing on a tank top and shorts. When you walked back in, there he was—just sitting on the edge of the bed, scrolling through his phone like he hadn’t spent the whole night making you drip for him.

Fuck that.

You stormed over, snatching his phone from his hands and slamming it onto the nightstand. “Are you acting oblivious, or are you just stupid?” you snapped, arms crossed over your chest.

Jungwoo blinked up at you, and then—that smile. That goddamn smile. “Baby, what are you talking about?” he asked, tilting his head, pretending to be confused.

You clenched your fists. “You know damn well what the fuck I’m talking about.” His smirk widened. “I don’t know, pretty,” he says, leaning back on his hands. “Use your words, maybe?”

Oh, he was such a fucking asshole.

Your eyes burned with frustration, your eyebrows furrowed, glossy sheen threatening to spill over. You bit the inside of your cheek, looking away, trying to blink the tears back—but of course, that only made it more obvious.

Jungwoo loved it. (his dick twitched) He took your chin between his fingers, forcing you to look at him. His eyes were dark, glinting with amusement. “Why are you crying, beautiful?” he cooed, voice dripping with mock sympathy.

You let out a shaky exhale. “I’ve been wanting you the whole night, giving you hints, and yet you still wanna act like you’re fucking clueless.”

Jungwoo hummed, watching you with that insufferable smirk, before leaning in—close enough that his breath fanned against your lips. “Just—fuck me,” you finally broke, your voice barely above a whisper. His smirk deepened. “There,” he murmured. “Was that so hard?”

Then he patted his lap. “Sit.”

You didn’t even hesitate. You climbed onto him, straddling his thighs, immediately rolling your hips against his. The moment you felt the hard press of his cock through his pants, you let out a whimper. “Y/N,” he groaned, voice already strained. His hands found your hips, holding you firmly in place as you moved.

Your fingers fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, desperate to get it off, and he chuckled, watching you struggle. “So needy,” he teased. “Shut up,” you muttered, unbuckling his belt. As soon as your hand brushed against his obvious bulge, he let out a low curse.

“I saw you get aroused when you saw me cry,” you murmured, palming him through his boxers. “Pervert.” Jungwoo smirked, tilting his head. “Only for you.” Then he leaned in, pressing soft, lingering kisses to the dried tear tracks on your cheeks.

His boxers hit the floor, and his cock was throbbing, leaking pre-cum. You wasted no time, pulling your top over your head, unclipping your bra, and sliding your panties to the side. Jungwoo sucked in a breath when he saw the wet patch on your underwear. “What’s this?” he teased, brushing a finger over your clothed clit. “Already?”

You whined, rolling your hips into his touch.

That was all it took. He slid your panties further aside, lined himself up, and sank into you in one fluid motion. You gasped, nails digging into his shoulders. He groaned, the sound low and needy, gripping your hips so hard you were sure there’d be bruises tomorrow. “Fuck, Y/N,” he panted. “So tight—shit.”

You clenched around him, moaning at the stretch, at the way he filled you up so perfectly.

Jungwoo started guiding your movements, lifting you up just enough before slamming you back down. “Just like that, pretty,” he murmured, eyes locked onto where you were connected. “So fucking good for me.” You whined his name, gripping his shoulders. “Faster,” you pleaded.

Something inside him snapped.

His grip tightened, and suddenly, he was pounding into you, thrusting up into you so hard you could barely keep yourself upright. His head fell back, lips parted in a breathless moan. “Y/N—fuck,” he whined, voice breaking as he drove into you over and over.

You buried your face in his neck, nails scratching down his back as pleasure built in your core. He was hitting so deep, so perfectly, and he knew it.

“Drive me fucking crazy,” he panted. “You’re so—shit—so good.” You could feel yourself unraveling, body trembling, moans turning into high-pitched whimpers.

“Jungwoo, I—”

“I got you, baby,” he groaned, thrusts growing erratic. His lips found yours, kissing you sloppy, desperate, swallowing every moan. And then—white-hot pleasure. You shattered, crying out his name as your orgasm crashed over you, body convulsing against him. Jungwoo cursed, grip tightening as he fucked you through it, chasing his own high.

“Fuck, I’m gonna—”

With a final, deep thrust, he spilled inside you, moaning into your mouth as he came undone. His hips stuttered, and he buried his face in your shoulder, panting against your skin.

For a moment, the only sound was your heavy breathing.

Then Jungwoo pulled back, pressing the softest kiss to your temple. “You okay, pretty?” he murmured, brushing damp hair from your face.

You nodded, sighing as he held you close. Jungwoo smirked, voice teasing but so fond.

“Told you I’d take my time.”

♡

[the-real-list-of-ominous-threats]

I'm going to make you unironically want to fuck springtrap

[rafesangelita]

i feel like rafe has a major housewife kink

warnings: mentions of traditional stuff (just for the sake of the kink, please don’t stone me ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১), rafe is kinda misogynistic, fingering, slight dacryphilia, unprotected sex, rough sex, headlock, reader is too fucked out to think about anything else, degradation, slapping, dirty talk, hair pulling, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, baby tapping threats

“i can’t— oh my, god. rafe!” your eyes fluttered shut for what felt like the hundredth time already, your thighs trembling as both pleasure and pain wracked through your body. rafe had no regard, nor did he care about this being your fourth orgasm as he rubbed your clit into overstimulation like his life depended on it. “yes, you fucking can,” he grunted, forcing your thighs open as they threatened to shut around his hand, “m’gonna keep you cumming until i see tears running down those cheeks.” you cried out at his words, your back arching into his chest at the overwhelming sensation.

rafe hadn’t even fucked you yet, and you were already on the verge of tapping out. flipping you over, rafe snaked an arm underneath your tummy before pulling you up, wasting no time in pressing your face into his pillows. stroking the small of your back, rafe groaned at the sight. he could see the body glitter on your skin, the little specs glinting underneath the dim lighting of his room. “fuck, i wish you would just let me have you already.. i’d make sure to slut you out every single day.” you whimpered when he delivered a harsh smack to the globe of your ass. “you just don’t know,” his aching tip prodded at your entrance, “i’d make sure you’d never have to lift a finger ever again.”

wrapping your hair around his fist, rafe slid into you without warning, drawing a shriek to leave your lips. “you shouldn’t be working in that fucking club,” he said through gritted teeth, “you should be here with me, letting me take care of you. i’ll come home and you’ll be waiting for me with a hot plate,” leaning down, rafe yanked your head back so his mouth was next to your ear, “you’ll keep this place spotless and i’ll buy you whatever the fuck you want,” just then, he wrapped a bicep around your neck, your chin tucked between the crease of his elbow and his forearm, “fuck you however you want.”

rafe’s words were punctuated by his thrusts, your acrylics scratching at his skin as you held onto him for dear life. “just picture that; me using you for all that you’re good for.” maybe it was because everyone who knew you, especially your girlfriends at the club, knew you wouldn’t be settling down anytime soon, or at all for that matter, but the idea of locking you away in tanneyhill and never going anywhere without you hanging off of his arm, making you fully reliant on him, financially and emotionally, it turned him on beyond words could describe. “you don’t even know what i’m saying,” he laughed, “you’re too cock drunk to understand.”

you whimpered pathetically, tears running down your face as he planted a slap to your cheek. “gonna fill up this cunt and trap you, maybe then you’ll understand what i’m saying when i put my baby inside of you.”

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Decoy [S. R.]

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

word count: 6.9k

summary: when you go after an unsub who catches students making out, the unit is called upon to resort to desperate measures. Or in other words, where you and Spencer become the decoy to catch a voyeur.

warnings: +16. Making out, mentions of alcohol, mentions of violence, insinuation of smut, sexual tension

Do yourself a favor and imagine Spencer in these clothes during the case

You sighed, completely frustrated, while you looked for the thousandth time at the blackboard with some information from the profile that you had made for the criminal in this case.

You believed that the unsub was a Caucasian man between 30 and 35 years old, whose motive was to spy on and photograph university students who were escaping in their cars to make out at night, then force them to have sex in front of him and finally kill them cold-blooded. You imagined that he was a person with a mediocre job, that he felt insufficient, and that his voyeuristic behavior probably came from sexual frustration, something that could be corroborated by the violence that he inflicted on the genital area of the students whom he stalked using a knife, his mark on all homicides. You also believed that perhaps the rejection or abandonment of his last partner (preceded by a bad streak from his youth) due to his impotence had been the triggering event for all his repressed impulses to come to light.

All the psychological analysis was fine, it wasn't something you hadn't seen before, but the hard part of all this? Because he only threatened and killed people, he didn't rape them, at first it was almost impossible to tell who it was. He already had 20 victims in total and you weren't even close to catching him. In the last scene he had made the mistake of leaving a fingerprint and Garcia had been able to trace his true identity: Oliver Davis, a guy who fits the description perfectly. Unfortunately, this turned out to be useless because beyond the accusations of being a pervert, the man didn’t have much information that would give a clue to his whereabouts, you had even called the job that he had registered and all you had obtained was that he had several months without working there, which coincided with the beginning of the murders. After that Rossi suggested that he probably lived in a trailer (old, due to his lack of employment) where he developed the photographs and kept his trophies. That only made more sense when you thought that it would make it easier to transport or escape in case things got messy.

But words on paper and intelligent conclusions were of absolutely no use to you. You needed a plan to catch him.

"Do you have something, Reid?" Hotch had asked. You had already interviewed some students, you had set up guard duty to look for any suspicious behavior and you had even shared the photograph of the suspect in the media, but nothing had worked; The only thing left was to carry out the geographical profile to know the area in which he was attacking and thus be able to search for possible targets.

“I triangulated the locations we have of his previous homicides and I'm guessing he hits in this specific area,” he muttered, pointing to a space on the map he had on his blackboard with his middle finger. “Considering it's an area frequented by the age group due to its proximity to the universities and that it has several parks that the students told us they use to drink or go out as a couple”

"So what?" Morgan said from his spot. "We just wait until he kills someone else and hopefully we're near the scene to hear the screams?"

“Maybe we can ask the cops to patrol the area for the unsub's car,” JJ suggested.

“He's smart, there's a trailer park right here. It wouldn't be strange to find one on the streets as well.” Reid was visibly frustrated like everyone else and he ran a hand through his hair with some despair.

Your options were running out and frankly you couldn't think of anything else.

“And if we give him a target?” Emily murmured. Noticing that none of you said anything, she went on to explain her plan, “We ask police officers to send any young people they see around to home so we force our unsub to get close to who we want”

"And what are we going to do? Hire a couple of college kids to stalk them?”

“We can use our own team”

"Not to offend you, Prentiss, but we are no longer in the prime of youth"

"We don't, but Y/L/N and Reid do" when you heard your last name you were surprised, but when you heard your friend's you practically froze. First you looked at her and then at the doctor, whose gaze reflected the same stupefaction as you "You two are young, you might look like students"

"Are you saying you want to send us straight into the hands of a sexual predator?" you couldn't be offended, after all, those risks were part of the job, but you did feel somewhat reluctant about the idea.

“Do you have a better suggestion?”

“It doesn't sound so bad” Rossi murmured “It's a smart move”

“Besides, we would be watching around and we would intervene before that madman got close to you. Once we catch him, the photographs and personal items that he probably has in his trailer will be enough evidence, in addition to the fingerprint from the last crime scene” to your surprise, Derek was also pretty convinced of the plan that Emily had just devised.

"Reid, Y/L/N, would you guys be up for it?" Hotch exclaimed with his usual serious tone, looking at you and then at your partner.

Thinking objectively, the suggestion was very good. But thinking about it personally, you felt worried about the danger you two would be running into… oh, God. It wasn't until then that you realized that the plan to catch the suspect involved the two of you making out like a couple of hormonal college kids. 

You knew that the options that remained wouldn’t be as opportune as that and taking into account the temporary nature with which Oliver operated, in addition to the fact that he was already deteriorating as a murderer, it was most likely that he was already looking for new victims, so if you did that same night the chances of success were quite high. You were between a rock and a hard place and all you could do was look at him while the gazes of the rest of the room were divided between the two of you.

“I… I'll only do it if you say yes” you exclaimed in his direction, with a cautious voice and a fearful look. You knew your friend and you didn't want to make him feel uncomfortable in any way, even though you knew that both you and he knew that your personal interests would take precedence against the possibility that another couple of victims would lose their lives if you refused. It was your job, you had to do it. 

"Are you sure you guys are going to catch him before something happens?" Spencer asked your boss. You thought that with his background the last thing he wanted was to end up kidnapped or seriously injured again, even though the truth was that he was caring just as much about himself as he was about you. He had seen the photographs and knew that women were the most affected by the murder weapon… he didn't even want to imagine something like this happening to you.

"Of course. You will have communication with us and if something goes wrong we will get you out of there immediately" Aaron answered and your friend sighed nervously and then looked for your approval. You nodded slightly and he delivered the verdict, to which everyone agreed.

He was still standing, but after that he slumped into the nearest chair as he listened to everyone brainstorming ideas for setting up the scene, distributing the crew, and what they would tell the local police to do to make the decoy effective.

At some point you lost the whole point of the conversation, to start thinking about what was implied by what you were about to do.

The feeling of attraction for your co-worker had been latent in you for a couple of years, but you had never confessed it to anyone to avoid creating tension in the team or suffering the humiliation of certain rejection. Also, you knew that a crush meant distractions from what was truly important and you had tried, in vain, to eliminate it completely. But even if it hadn't completely gone, you had known how to control it, only allowing yourself to look at him with loving eyes from time to time and avoiding being too confident with him during group drinking outings. You even limited physical contact, not because you didn't like it but because you knew your greed would demand more and more of you until it became inevitable to beg for his touch. But now all that good work holding you back was screwed because in a few hours you would have to be passionately making out with him.

Still with the internal crisis, you raised your head to look at him and realized that he too had been submerged in his own tide of thoughts, which you hoped would be more positive than yours. At some point Spencer felt you watching him and when his eyes met yours he gave you that tight-lipped smile that was strangely comforting, to which you responded with the same gesture. After that it didn't take long for everyone to leave the room to fulfill their respective tasks, but you stayed seated because you honestly didn't feel enough energy to move. Besides, you had nothing entrusted to you, you were the bait.

"Hey, are you sure you're okay with this?" Spencer asked you, once everyone else had left. He looked so tired of everything, but at the same time there was a kind tone in his voice about him that made you smile.

“It's just kissing, Spence. I think we'll be fine" you assured him, trying to swallow all your embarrassment and nerves "And you?"

"I agree. I just hope we get lucky today or we'll just have to keep trying” 

"Reid, I need you to tell the cops what area we'll be in," Hotch interrupted you from the door. "You still have time to regret it," he added, looking at the two of you.

You immediately denied and after that Spencer withdrew from there in the company of Aaron. When you were about to drop you exhaled, completely concerned about the last thing your partner had said.

We will just have to keep trying. You didn't know if the idea excited you, or terrified you.

As night fell, Spencer drove the old pickup truck the unit had managed to rent for the two of you to drive into the park, with you in the passenger seat and a six-pack of beer in the backseat.

Although you were sure that it would be cold, you had decided to wear shorts and a button-down shirt that you normally wore for work, but that you had adjusted to make it look more youthful. Spencer was wearing an outfit that Morgan had gotten for him from a department store, simple jeans with a rather baggy cotton shirt and some nice boots that you didn't know where he got from, since in Quantico you had never seen him wear anything like that.

Both of you had showered at the hotel (separately of course) and you had made sure to brush your teeth and put on a good amount of deodorant and perfume before getting in the car. You had paid special attention to your appearance, not because it was necessary, but because you wanted to look perfect for him. Even with all this, you were a nervous wreck next to him, not saying a word along the way and only soft music from the radio filling the air.

When you stopped, the two of you put your headphones on to the channel the team was supposed to be on, and Morgan answered in the affirmative.

"Remember, he doesn't have to see the communicator or your weapon," Rossi spoke, who was also in the van, along with Prentiss and Hotch. "García will be watching with the security cameras and he will warn us if the trailer is coming"

"And meanwhile what do we do?"

"Pretend to be a couple, sit on the tailgate and drink beer, laugh, I don't know"

“Did you ever run away like that in college?” you asked, directly at Reid.

“Do you remember that I was like 16 when I studied at the university, right? I wasn't even old enough to drive, much less a car" he muttered and you gave a short laugh "I guess you did"

“I was too busy being the best in the institution to even think about going out and making out with idiots,” you replied, proud of yourself for that. “I mean, it's not like you're an idiot, but they were. You're very smart," you rambled, still twiddling your fingers, "Hotch, you guys will tell us when we're going to start kissing, will you?"

“When the suspect approaches, yes”

"Okay, well... then we have to go out, huh?" you muttered to him as you reached for the beers and tried to open the door to get out. You turned, expecting to see Spencer do the same as you, but noticed that he had lingered in the car for a moment, checking himself in the mirror and applying his lips with chapstick.

My God, could that man make you more nervous?

When he finally caught up with you, you went to the back of the pickup, where you opened the tailgate to sit down with a little hop. Spencer was tall enough to keep up with you just by leaning over the edge, where you watched him cross his arms. You were silent for a few moments, listening to the sound of crickets and cars in the distance.

"Do you think it's a good idea to drink?"

"Only a little. I'm having a hard time thinking while sober, I don't want to ruin the little reasoning I have left” you exclaimed as a joke. Or maybe you weren't joking so much "Just empty a couple of cans and leave them on the floor so he'll think we're really drunk." Spencer was about to do what you said when you noticed an important detail and called him over to look at you "Come here, let me fix your hair."

"What's wrong with my hair?"

"You're very well combed, it's not the image we expect" you carefully took his hand until it was close enough to pass the other through all his golden locks, messing them up enough to give him that relaxed touch that he should have. He looked so handsome, but not in the style of a fancy FBI agent but just like a young intellectual who went to parties and smoked weed “Like this. Perfect"

“Do you think we have to think of some backstory?” he asked and you looked at him with a frown. “You know, something about us. What degree are we studying, what are our names…”

"This is not a play"

"It's rude to eavesdrop on conversations, Prentiss," you said visibly annoyed, although looking at your partner that expression softened "As you wish, Spencer. Although being honest, I would say that you study… literature”

"Really?" he exclaimed with slight enthusiasm. You knew that his mother had been a teacher in the subject and you wondered if he had ever considered it.

“Morgan wasn’t wrong to choose those clothes for you. It suits you” you complimented him and Morgan whistled from the other end of the line. You felt like you were having too much fun for the situation you were in, but you needed to talk about something else to put off the reminder of what you had come to do for as long as possible. “I think you would have that hopeless philosopher/romantic vibe who flirts by whispering memorized poetry in your ear.”

“I actually know some good ones”

"Sure you do" you smiled gently, suppressing the thought of him sighing close to your neck at Bécquer "I'd probably study science or something."

"The unattainable scientist with whom the captain of the soccer team has a secret crush, but she is completely unaware"

"Where did you get that? From a 90s movie?

Spencer's laugh was one of your favorite sounds and today that was precisely not helping your situation. You felt intoxicated by how handsome he looked, like you'd discovered a side to him that no one else had, and the thought of kissing him made you tremble a little with anticipation.

“Do you want to share a beer?” he murmured, carefully opening the can and offering it to you first. You knew your partner wasn't the most enthusiastic about doing anything that involved germs, so it made you feel good that he took the lead. You took a big gulp of the drink to gather something of value and when it was his turn to drink he kept looking at you intently, you would even say that he seemed entranced.

You had made sure you were in a strategic position, with enough light for the unsub to see you and quite lonely, except for the patrol cars and the van that had been positioned at a safe distance.

“How does voyeurism develop?” you asked quietly, with genuine interest, as you shifted a bit to get closer to him.

“Voyeurism usually begins in adolescence and since during that age it is usually seen with greater tolerance, there are people who continue with these behaviors until adulthood. When voyeurism is pathological, they spend considerable time looking for opportunities to watch, often at the expense of not fulfilling important responsibilities in their lives, and people reach orgasm by masturbating during or after watching. Although if you think about it a bit, everyone is a bit of a voyeur."

"Why you said so?"

“Many men and women enjoy viewing pornography, which can be classified as voyeuristic behavior. It's not a worrying thing, but it's interesting to think about it” he explained, with those expressions on his face that he had every time he shared knowledge with you. He liked that about you, that you were always willing to listen to his data and statistics even at the most inopportune moments.

"I'm still a little scared that Oliver is trying to do something to us."

“I have my gun. If he tries to do something to you, I'll use it" you knew that killing the unsub was always the last option Reid considered, so you widened your eyes a little to show your surprise "All lives are worth, but when that life has already taken so many and it puts you at risk, I would not doubt it. You have nothing to worry about” he assured you and your heart warmed a little at feeling so protected.

"Do you know if Oliver attacks at a specific time?"

"No, he doesn’t. Just as we can be here for ten minutes, we can also be here all night."

You exhaled loudly, before taking another gulp of beer.

“Drink some, boy. I feel kind of selfish around here."

"I am nervous"

"And why do you think I'm drinking?" you exclaimed wryly, still holding out the can to him, and when he finally agreed he drank a little more than you expected “Have you ever…” you started to say, but suddenly remembered that literally the whole team was listening to you. If the answer was embarrassing, you didn't want to hear Morgan and Emily taunting you all week, so you covered your microphone for a moment and spoke again, but so quietly that only he could hear you. "I suppose you kissed someone, did you?"

"Yes," he said quickly and you sighed with relief. It comforted you a little to know that it wasn't his first kiss, because you didn't want him to have such a bad memory “Do I look so inexperienced?"

"No, that's not what I meant" you smiled "You're handsome, I know you've probably kissed a couple of girls"

"You don't need to tell lies, you know I'll kiss you anyway"

"But it's not a lie. I really think you're handsome" you confessed, gathering all the courage in you, while you smiled at him in the most serene way possible "And if we weren't literally waiting for a murderer, you know I'd be happy to do this with you"

"Smooch me?"

"Having this bad date attempt, Reid," you hissed, flushing red, as you slammed your palm into his forehead with just a little bit of force. Spencer seemed quite pleased that he made you nervous, rather than the other way around, so he grinned, “Though I think we should have brought food. I'm starving,” you pouted, swinging your dangling legs back and forth.

"That's not a picnic, Y/N"

You hated for a second that everyone was so intent on the conversation. A part of you wanted a moment alone with the brunette, even if it was in the midst of such a strange situation.

You began to talk pleasantly about things completely unrelated to the case for a couple of minutes, staying where you were, until Hotch's interruption made you jump a bit in place.

"Garcia intercepted an approaching trailer, get ready” your heart immediately sped up and you noticed him tense beside you, too, probably with the same thought flooding his head.

"Okay, come closer," you exclaimed, trying not to panic, as you spread your legs a little to allow the man to step into the space between. He wasted no time and just as you wrapped your hands around his shoulders you heard the sound of another car pulling up.

"Is that our unsub?"

"It is"

You were about to turn your head to peek when Reid grabbed your cheek and stopped you.

"He's smart. If you look at him, he'll realize it” he reminded you with a serious voice. You were so worried about everything that you were forgetting about your training “Okay, so I… Is it okay if I put my hands here?” he asked with a different tone, nervously placing both hands on your waist. You had always admired the size and anatomy of those hands, but until now you had not had the pleasure of feeling them on your body in this way.

“Tonight everything you do is fine. I promise"

"It would be a good time to start, he'll see you" Emily reminded you and you could only sigh shakily.

You two were adults, why were you so scared about kissing?

"Close your eyes" Spencer whispered to you, masking his nerves better than you "I'll kiss you, just close them," he asked you and you did.

You felt his body lean against you a little until his chest almost touched yours and then his lips shakily pressed against yours. You would always remember your first kiss, which in essence was such a brief caress that you didn't even know if it could be counted as one, the one where he wordlessly asked your permission to explore your mouth. Still with your eyes closed, you pulled him by the neck towards you and started a new kiss, a little more confident and deep this time, allowing you to savor the beer mixed with strawberries and that strange flavor that each person has.

“We…” you started to say, once you separated “you have to do it slowly, what he wants is a show” you exclaimed. Spencer felt unable to say any words and your hands caressing him so deliciously wasn't helping at all “Slow,” you repeated.

You arched your back a little to get even closer and when you finally looked up you met his caramel eyes. You needed a moment to recover and you unconsciously licked your lips, as if you needed to pick up and savor his presence in your mouth again, something that didn’t go unnoticed by his attentive look at your movements. 

It didn't take long for you to give up, as beginning the third kiss you felt that you no longer had any control over your body, your heart, or your mind. And while it was true that neither of you were experts on the subject, you guys managed pretty well as the seconds ticked by. Spencer gasped as he simultaneously felt you pull the hair from his neck and caress his lips with the tip of your tongue, while you were taken by surprise when his hands left your waist and lowered to the height of your hip, where his thumbs gripped firmly on the clip of your shorts.

There was a kiss, then another and another; they became too many to count. You didn't want to touch him anywhere and at the same time you wanted to touch him completely, in the grip of the fantasy that this was real and not just a performance. And even if you were aware that it was all fake, that would probably only have encouraged you to enjoy something to the fullest that you knew would never come back. Amid everything you didn’t know which of the two situations would be worse.

The sound of your lips colliding became so obscene that you were embarrassed, but you had no plan to stop. Your hands slid gently down the length of his neck until you reached his chest and cupped the soft cotton of his garment in your fists to make sure he didn't move away from you. The heat of the moment just went up and up, but a voice on the intercom brought you back with a jolt.

“He started the trailer. He's going to go"

Spencer closed his eyes in frustration, and you sighed. From the position he was in it wasn’t possible to get around him without being seen, so keeping all his attention was on you and him.

Maybe you weren't doing it right? You wondered what the hell this man wanted to see if you were practically eating each other, but suddenly you remembered that his motivation was even more sexual than a couple of wet kisses. Maybe he was getting bored because he needed to see that you were about to… well, do it.

"Take off my shirt," you said immediately, still too close to his swollen lips and looking right into eyes that seemed to be pitch black.

"Take... what?"

"Take off my shirt" you repeated, with a tone that made the man shudder completely. With the hands that were still holding his shirt you pulled him to you and he held his breath “And kiss me better. Like you really want me"

But Spencer didn't need to pretend that he wanted you. 

He made you completely dizzy when he began to kiss you so hungrily and you managed to keep enough composure when you felt one of his warm hands travel under your blouse, limiting yourself to letting out sighs that were drowned against his lips. But what finally caused you to let out an indiscreet and unwelcome moan was when he pulled you by the hip until you were on the edge of the tailgate and you could feel the growing bulge in his pants pressing against you. Spencer had almost managed to suppress his, but in the end, you having your own situation down there didn't help one bit. 

His trembling fingers fussed with the buttons on your shirt until it ended up somewhere on the floor at incredible speed, leaving you half-naked before him and the collection of FBI agents standing around. You might have been embarrassed if your brain could connect two coherent thoughts, but you'd lost that from the moment Dr. Reid first dared to kiss you.

You carefully guided his hands to the beginning of the curve of your breasts and now you both sighed in unison, feeling goosebumps on every inch of your skin. You pushed yourself forward just for the satisfaction of hearing that guttural sound again and your prayers were immediately answered, for it was enough for him to feel the slightest friction and he would go crazy. It was inappropriate to need him like that, but you couldn't help it.

Holding your lower back, he leaned over you and at the same time pulled you towards him until your breasts collided with his chest. In that position, your neck was exposed and your partner’s hot lips didn't hesitate to go down there, while you sighed agitated just at the height of his ear. Spencer asked you, between each kiss, to look in the direction of the trailer to see if he was still there and as you could you answered yes, which was victory enough for both of you.

As he could, he maneuvered to lay you down carefully on the cold metal of the truck without stopping kissing your neck, and by inertia you wrapped both legs over his hip. When you were hidden by the panels of the pickup he finally looked at you.

"I hope it's enough to get his attention," he said, sounding as agitated as expected, and although the circumstances meant that you two would be taking a break you flatly refused, pulling him back to kiss him.

That kiss did take Spencer by surprise and it was perhaps the sincerest of the night. It wasn’t as passionate as the previous ones, but rather it was loaded with softness and you would even say that a hint of supplication. You were begging for him not to stop, for the night to get stuck in an infinite loop where the two of you could kiss for eternity. And suddenly you felt how he, who had been so tense the whole time, completely relaxed against you, as if he understood exactly what you wanted to say. His hands came to rest on the sides of your head to be able to kiss you more comfortably and you dared to take him by the waist with the same care that you were kissing him, feeling even above the cloth the softness of his skin. 

And then he broke up with you. You feared you had done something wrong due to the suddenness of the movement and your frightened eyes searched his gaze for a sign of the reason, without finding anything. He just looked at you with something you couldn't describe, but that made you feel butterflies fluttering all over your stomach... and he stayed like that for a few seconds: just looking at you, as if he wanted to memorize all your features.

You opened your mouth to say something, but your words were drowned in a new kiss, totally different from the previous ones. Spencer was taking time with him, trapping your lower lip between his and sucking on it gently, pressing himself a little more against your body, sighing heavily into your mouth.

Your hand was already running up his side to make its way to his cheek just as screams filled the silence and you hugged him reflexively. The screams had come from Morgan, who had already moved across the park to take down the unsub and was now wrestling with him to get the knife out of his hand. Spencer hesitated for a moment if he should come over to help, but he preferred to hold you better against his body to protect you and wait for Emily to place the handcuffs on the man under her partner's knee.

From a distance you saw that he only brought with him, in addition to the knife, his camera, and a small backpack with some other murderous instruments that they managed to confiscate without any problem.

"All clear, we've got him," Hotch spoke over the radio. As you exhaled in relief too many emotions washed over you, combined with the adrenaline coursing through your body and the arousal still flowing into your crotch.

"Are you okay?" Reid's gentle voice called to you, as he pulled away to check with his eyes that everything was in order. His hair was messy and his lips were so swollen that it was almost painful to look at the image without launching yourself to kiss him again "My God, your shirt..." he said, completely embarrassed, as he bent down to pick up the garment. You looked him up and down and blushed when you noticed how tight his pants were, feeling your stomach turn a little. When he got up, he took the opportunity to look at your chest covered only by the black lace bra and a big gulp of saliva went down his throat.

You thanked him quietly and put your shirt back on, feeling the sneaky glances Spencer was giving you, just before Hotch walked up to you.

"How are you?"

"Very good, excellent" you stammered.

You could perfectly feel your swollen lips, the light sheen of sweat on your face, the heat flowing from all the places Reid's fingers had been, and the abundant moisture between your crossed legs.

After Hotch congratulated you on your performance, the two of you walked as best you could toward the rest of the agents, who were already placing Oliver on patrol. Another group was analyzing the trailer and they managed to pull out enough evidence about the murders that would be very useful in prosecuting the man.

"All good?" Emily asked in your direction, once things had settled down and the rest of the team had gathered in a circle by the van. You and Spencer just nodded at the question.

“I honestly think I'm going to need therapy after what I heard,” Dave murmured, so serious that you couldn't help but burst out laughing.

"Don't you even dare make fun of this"

“No, we won't. I'm just saying you guys seemed to be enjoying it there."

"That's supposed to be the plan, right?" Spencer said nervously, finally daring to look at you and looking away almost immediately as he smoothed his hair back.

Once your boss said you could retire you escaped in a patrol car as fast as you could, wanting to get home so you could take a cold shower and soothe what wasn’t satisfied by the man. You could hardly sleep that night, still haunted by the ghost of the kisses you received from your gorgeous coworker, and the next morning you hoped that double coffee would do the trick. But apparently you weren't the only one who thought so, because at the same time that you arrived Spencer Reid crossed your path.

"Hey," he said, in that high-pitched voice that came out when someone caught him off guard, "How are you?" 

"Fine, and you?"

"Fine too"

You knew that the two of you wanted to talk about what happened, but it only took one of you to have the courage to speak first. At the same time your phones rang indicating a message and you mistakenly assumed that it was JJ contacting you to announce a case. What was your surprise when you opened the file and found a collection of photos from the night before. You knew from Spencer's face that he had received the same thing.

"Garcia did you… did she send you the same evidence?"

"That's right," he said nervously. You had to admit that if Oliver had one quality it was that of a photographer: you were sensual and perfectly captured the desire that had existed between you. Well, the one you had pretended to feel… right?

Spencer held his breath as he came to a picture of you topless in which his hand was practically on your breast, immediately remembering how that had felt. He just hoped his memories didn't affect him too much or it would be embarrassing enough to walk into the boardroom with a boner.

"They're good," you said to the air and he suppressed a laugh "But I can delete them if that makes you feel uncomfortable"

“No, no, I… I think I want to keep them too. After all, the bureau will have them in the files as evidence of the case, I prefer to have access too”

"I just hope she doesn't send them to anyone else, I wouldn't want to see my bra photos going around."

“I'll tell Garcia, don't worry,” Spencer murmured, rushing to type something on his phone.

While you waited for him to type you took another look, feeling your whole body heating up again at the memories. A part of you was grateful to have such material in your custody.

"I never thought of being the protagonist of an erotic photo session and here we are," you said ironically.

“Speaking of which…” Spencer started to say, “Not the erotic sessions by any means, don't think I'm planning on inviting you to one or that, because it would be super weird and inappropriate, but I was thinking if… huh…”

“Sell them online? I thought so too, but it depends on how much profit there is. Garcia can help us find the highest bidder and not get charged for tampering with evidence."

"What? No!" he said, completely shocked, and you laughed because you got the reaction you expected with your joke "Why would we do that?"

“Just kidding, Reid. Those photos are something I prefer to keep to myself" you clarified and your smile made him feel shy "Seriously, sorry for interrupting you. What did you want to tell me?"

"What…? huh, yes, right. It's just that this morning I was thinking about what you said yesterday, about how under normal circumstances you would have liked to have a bad date with me, right? and it just kept spinning in my head, so I was asking if you wanted to go for a drink sometime. Not like a date, of course, I'm not saying it is if you don't want to. I can just be like… well, go get a drink. As friends"

Yesterday Spencer had practically eaten your mouth and now he was nervous about asking you out. So adorable.

“You're not doing this just as compensation, are you? because you know that it is not necessary…”

“I do it because I want to. And I want to believe that… that I didn't misunderstand what happened yesterday."

You no longer even cared that it was unethical to date team members, or that if things went wrong, you would probably go into the worst of depressions. What mattered to you was that Spencer was interested in you, even if he had implied it, and that he was asking you out alone with him. Just the two of you, with fun and alcohol involved, without gossipy colleagues or mortal danger.

"Then I'd love to, Reid."

“Wow, excellent then” he smiled, feeling lucky that you agreed “I know a great bar near here, the atmosphere is generally calm, I like it because they don't play loud music. What day is right for you?"

“I'm available any day you want” you responded genuinely, grinning from ear to ear just being around him. That was the effect Reid had on you.

It was stupid to try to deny that you were still attracted to him, especially since now you had a taste of what he could do with you. You wanted to kiss him again, of course, but you were also anxious to earn that completely adoring look you'd received the night before.

“Today?”

"Yeah, why wait?" you responded, more excited than you wanted.

“Hey, I didn't ask you, but I wanted to know if I didn't go overboard with you last night. I mean… did something bother you?”

It was a smart move, you could see it clearly. It was obvious that Spencer cared about you, but you also picked up on his intentions to find out if you were interested in him too. Well, that's how it was from your perspective, because that probably would have been your motivation being in his place.

Even if it wasn't the case, you weren't going to miss the opportunity to take a little advantage of the situation.

"The kisses on the neck were something he definitely didn't expect, but they weren't unpleasant at all," you assured him, feeling your cheeks heat up again. "Did it feel good to you?"

"It did"

"So everything's perfect," you murmured, shrugging off the matter. But you both knew you couldn't see each other in the office and acted as if nothing had happened.

Something had happened. Those kisses had only fueled the tension that had always existed between you but that you wanted to ignore.

"Do you want to go after work, then?"

“Sounds good to me”

Spencer gave you one last smile and then went to prepare his usual cup of sugar with a dash of coffee. All day you were thinking about him and more than once he caught you looking at him, but you didn't even care.

So, at nightfall, with a few drinks on you and more courage in your body, you finally confessed that kissing was something you had wanted to do for a long time. You almost didn't believe it at first, coming from him, but when you finally accepted it, it wasn't hard at all to rush at him and kiss him feverishly. And this time there did not impede for you to give free rein to your desires, which led you to the soft mattress in your friend's house and kept you awake until a few hours before dawn.

[quin-ns]

Knuckle Velvet (Aegon II Targaryen x Reader)

Word count: 1.9K

Summary: Aegon is desperate for the love of the sister he truly wants, even if he has to take it

Tags: (18+), cw: non-con, cw: sibling incest, targaryen!reader, dark themes, choking, fingering, unprotected sex (obvi, it’s hotd times), hair pulling kinda, forced orgasm, aegon is lowkey pathetic but also threatening

A/N: first aegon fic. I’d been wanting to write for him but with the new season and him getting hotter (maybe he looks the same and I just got more into him idk) I had to write him

HotD masterlist + main masterlist

Aegon’s head weighed heavy on your lap, but even as your legs began to grow numb, you let him be. Your fingers lightly carded through his silver hair in the way you knew he wanted.

“I like it when you take care of me,” your brother had told you many times. It had to be the truth, given how often he’d seek you out just to curl up next to you.

Sometimes he’d sit like this, his head in your lap like some kind of dog, wanting his hair stroked and your words of assurance. He could fall asleep like this, or let tears slip down his cheeks. Other times he’d crawl on top of you and take the love he was desperate for. He could kiss away your silent tears, or muffle your cries with his lips.

Either way, he kept returning to you, begging for your attention and affection.

It might’ve been amusing, how weak he could be to you, if he wasn’t so terrifying at the same time.

Tonight, as Aegon muttered about his most recent council meeting, you thought perhaps you’d be spared his touch tonight.

“I should have been wed to you,” he muttered, voice holding onto a bitterness he had yet to let go. “I can stand your company and I already spend more time in your bed. I’ve suffered enough cruelty in my life, being allowed to marry who I please should’ve been a mercy I was granted. It makes no difference to our line.”

You had had this conversation many times to the point you were beyond tired of speaking about it. Helaena was the eldest sister, it had made sense to your mother and grandsire to pair the two together. They couldn’t have known the resentment that would build in the king.

Helaena was the correct choice for queen. You would not have the stomach for it. Helaena had already given birth to two of his children. Aegon was occasionally amused by them, but it was your sister that doted on them. She was a good mother. You didn’t think you could bring yourself to be. You were grateful to the maesters who would bring you tea and turn a blind eye to Aegon’s doings. The rumors that would circulate him would not ruin his future the way they would you. You’d yet to marry and if word got out you lacked virtue, you may never. You didn’t want Aegon to get the satisfaction.

You suspected Aegon no longer laid with his wife, and she was fortunate for that. If he loved you as much as he claimed and still had to kiss bruises in the morning, you didn’t dare to imagine what he could’ve done to her. She had given him a son and a daughter, and perhaps that was enough for him.

Aegon sat up and you flinched, even as he looked at you with tears in his eyes. You wondered if he recognized how insulting it was to hear him whine about his responsibilities, to listen to him say he loved you and list off the things he wanted to give you, only for him to not lift a finger for either. Duties went ignored. His love remained violent. You were tired. So very, very tired.

A hand found your face, fingers pressing into the skin of your cheek. Aegon’s thumb dragged down your lips, pulling the bottom one apart from the top. His gaze pierced yours as he let your lip go in favor of letting his thumb tilt up your chin when you tried to look away.

“Do you love me?” Aegon pleaded.

He stared at your mouth, waiting for you to speak. Your lips remained pressed together. Tears spilled further down his pale cheeks. Aegon’s face twisted as something other than just begging shined through his eyes.

Your lack of response rewarded you with a hand around the throat. Then again, you could’ve said exactly what he desired and received the same. He enjoyed his power over you as you’d never been one to fight back. At least this way you could remain somewhat defiant.

Aegon kissed you like he was trying to bruise your lips. His kiss was all teeth and tongue, forcefully claiming you as he left his mark. Aegon took what he wanted and cared nothing for charm or patience.

Hands fell to your shoulders, gliding over them for only a second before they pressed. Your back hit the mattress with a gasp. Aegon’s teeth found your neck as he crawled on top of you. The weight was already crushing. With each button on your gown he undid, the faster your heart raced.

“You are beautiful, sister,” he said, sounding wrecked already as he admired your naked body. You believed he meant it, but it didn’t spare you. “If only you weren’t being so stubborn with your words.”

Aegon’s hand on your neck was no more welcome than the first time he’d gripped it, but at least you’d grown better at controlling your breathing.

He made himself comfortable between your legs. The hand on your neck remained firm, while the other disappeared inside you.

You hated how he knew to do this. To prepare you for him. Something you were certain he’d learned at a pleasure house. That was the last thing you wanted to feel. At least if it hurt you could remind yourself you did not want this. You did not want Aegon to touch you or kiss you or fuck you. But when a warmth began to form inside you and slick coated his skilled fingers, your mind would always begin to blur and doubt crept in, while a smirk would appear on his lips. It happened every time without fail and this was no exception.

“You’ll have to speak to me sometime,” Aegon goaded, fingers stroking your walls. He leaned down over you, his lips pressing to your ear as he whispered, “Perhaps it’ll be when you scream my name.”

When, not if. Arrogance was a most undesirable feature of your eldest brother.

You tried to shut your thighs when Aegon withdrew his hand, but a harsh slap to your skin reminded you of your place. You grit your teeth and close your eyes as the head of his cock pressed into you. You’d lost count of how many times he’d done this, but it took your breath every time when he slammed into the hilt.

“Look at me,” he grunted. You could feel air hit your face, knowing his face was above you.

You cracked your eyes open when he squeezed your neck. His eyes would’ve been beautiful if they didn’t have such a lifeless quality to them.

Your throat bobbed against his hand as you swallowed, but no words left you. The sole purpose was to frustrate him. Tomorrow you’d speak to him as usual, but tonight, like you did some nights, you wanted to make your resistance known, even if his cock was buried in you.

He kissed you when he began to move. The hand on your throat remained as his lips attached to yours. His other hand groped at you, running over your hips, your waist, your breasts—anything he could touch. He thrust into you with power, forcing your legs apart. All you could do was lie there and take it.

Aegon breathed heavily against your mouth as your body welcomed him. Your mind had no say in the matter. Your warm, wet walls clung to his cock as he fucked you hard. Your legs wrapped around him without your say and that really drove him mad with lust.

His hand finally left your neck as both rose to run through your hair. Aegon’s hands were rough as he held your face in place by your scalp. Your winces of pain went ignored as usual. The sound of skin against skin echoed through the room and your face grew even more heated at the sound of your own slickness that joined. He parted from your lips to watch your face.

“I can see your pleasure, sister. Your body does not lie. Your face does not lie.”

You wanted to turn your head but you could not. You gripped the sheets as he pressed into you harder with each motion, letting you feel the thick length of him inside you even longer. Your legs began to shake as heat throbbed in your belly.

“Ae—” you cut yourself off, but it was too late.

You’d begun to give him the satisfaction of winning but had snatched it away. Aegon wouldn’t have that. He couldn’t.

His eyes looked wild as Aegon fisted your hair. “Say it,” he hissed. “Say anything.”

One would have mistaken his tone for anger, or something else, but you knew what it truly was. The desperation in his voice might’ve conjured pity if he wasn’t busy splitting you open on his cock. His thrusts picked up again and you felt your body beginning to tighten around him.

Your back arched off the bed as his harsh movements forced your legs further apart to make room for him. Aegon was growing frantic, chasing his desires with fervor.

One hand stayed in your hair while the other snaked between your bodies. A moan tore through you when the palm of his hand pressed to the top of your cunt. Another trick you were certain had been taught to him to find the most pleasure. Your hips bucked down against him, the need from your body for the pressure causing it to act on its own.

It was all so overwhelming, the word slipped from your lips before you could think to stop.

“Aegon!” you cried out. You didn’t even know what for. Surely for him to stop, but a blinding pleasure began to rattle you. Your legs locked around him, holding him deep inside you as your body quivered and clenched around him. You could barely breathe as the feeling of release wracked your entire being in a sudden instant.

Aegon cursed above you, his breaths coming out harsh. He gave quick, sharp thrusts, barely able to move with the grip of your legs. You felt his cock throb of you before he spilled inside of you with a deep moan. He shoved his hips forward, encasing himself in your body as he forced you to ride out your pleasure alongside him.

Finally, when your vision began to clear, you forced your legs to drop. You laid limp beneath him as Aegon collapsed on top of you. You shivered as his face pressed to your neck. You clenched your teeth as he nipped at your bruised neck. You even felt a tear stream down your cheek.

“You love me,” Aegon stated. It was not a question this time. He lifted his head, silver hair sticking to his forehead as his eyes searched yours. “You can deny it, or refuse to speak it, but you do.”

Whether he believed that or not, you couldn’t be certain. He spoke with conviction, but as you left him without a response, you noticed the familiar glint of sadness in his eyes as he fought back tears of his own.

With a quiver to his voice he added, “And I love you.”

As much as your body ached and your neck throbbed, deep down, you knew with certainty that he believed he did.

[writeriguess]

Katsuki x f reader one bed trope??? PLEASE????

Frozen Flames

Snow crunched beneath your boots as you trudged up the steep, frost-bitten slope, the icy wind biting at any exposed skin. The mission brief had been clear—track down and neutralize the villain terrorizing the nearby village. But of course, luck had thrown Katsuki Bakugo into your path, turning an already difficult mission into a nightmare.

“You’re too slow,” Katsuki sneered, his voice barely carrying over the howling wind. “At this rate, the villain will be sipping hot cocoa before you even show up.”

You shot him a glare, cheeks stinging from the cold and his biting words. “Not all of us need to blow everything up to get the job done, Bakugo.”

“Maybe if you actually did something useful, I wouldn’t have to.”

You bit back a retort, focusing on the task at hand. Katsuki had always been a thorn in your side since UA. Every mission, every training session was a battleground, not just against the enemies but against each other. You both had climbed the ranks quickly, proving your worth as heroes, but your rivalry never simmered down. If anything, it had only intensified.

The villain’s hideout was nestled in a cavern halfway up the mountain, obscured by snowdrifts and jagged rocks. The ambush happened fast—a blur of motion, cold wind, and ice shards hurtling toward you. Katsuki’s explosions countered them, the blasts lighting up the twilight sky.

Your quirk surged to life, heating the air around you and melting the snow at your feet as you redirected the villain's attacks. But the terrain was unforgiving, and your focus slipped for just a second.

A sharp pain tore through your side as a shard of ice embedded itself into your flesh, your blood seeping out in a vivid contrast against the pure white snow.

“Idiot!” Katsuki roared, his eyes wide with a mixture of fury and—was that worry?—as he blasted the villain backward. “Can’t you do anything right?”

You grit your teeth against the pain, forcing yourself to stand straighter. “I don’t need your help.”

“Clearly, you do.”

With one last explosion, Katsuki subdued the villain, snow and debris settling around the both of you. His chest heaved, crimson eyes blazing as they darted to your wound.

“Let me see,” he demanded, stepping closer.

“I said, I’m fine.”

“And I said let me see!” His voice was harsh, but his touch was surprisingly gentle as he peeled back the torn fabric to inspect the injury. The cold was quickly numbing your senses, making the pain less sharp but more dangerous.

Katsuki’s jaw clenched. “There’s a cabin a few minutes from here. Can you walk?”

You nodded, though your legs felt like they were made of lead. “Just...don’t blow anything up on the way.”

The trek to the cabin was brutal.

The wind howled like a wounded beast, whipping the snow in furious spirals that made it almost impossible to see beyond a few feet. Your boots crunched against the icy ground, each step sending a dull ache through your body. The wound in your side burned and throbbed, the cold numbing the pain but stealing the strength from your limbs.

And then there was him.

Katsuki Bakugo walked beside you, his presence an irritating combination of warmth and hostility. His hand, firm and unyielding, had latched onto your arm the second your knees threatened to buckle, and he hadn't let go since.

“Stop dragging me, Bakugo,” you snapped, your breath coming out in visible puffs of air.

He scoffed but didn’t loosen his grip. “Oh, excuse me, princess, for stopping you from eating shit face-first into the snow.”

“Maybe I want to eat shit. Did you ever think of that?”

His eye twitched. “You’re so damn annoying.”

You shoved at his shoulder with what little strength you had left. He barely budged, the heat from his body stark against the bone-chilling cold. “Then leave me alone.”

“You’d freeze in ten minutes. Not my fault you’re built like a damn icicle.”

Your retort died in your throat when the cabin finally came into view. It was a squat, wooden thing, nestled between the jagged ridges of the mountains, almost buried beneath thick layers of snow. Smoke no longer curled from the chimney, which meant it hadn't been used in a while—but at least it was shelter.

You barely had the strength to stumble through the door before Katsuki kicked it shut behind you, shaking the snow off his arms with an annoyed grunt.

The interior was barebones—worse than you’d hoped. A single wooden table, a few cabinets that might hold emergency supplies, a fireplace, and…

Your stomach dropped.

One. Single. Bed.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

Katsuki followed your gaze, blinking at the pitiful excuse for a sleeping arrangement before a slow, smug smirk crept across his face. “What’s wrong? Scared to share a bed with me?”

Your face burned hotter than it had any right to in subzero temperatures. “I’d rather sleep outside.”

“Be my guest.” He shrugged off his heavy coat, tossing it aside before crouching by the fireplace. With a few well-aimed sparks from his fingertips, flames roared to life, casting flickering shadows against the log walls. The warmth was immediate, seeping into your frozen bones.

Reluctantly, you shuffled closer to the fire, rubbing your hands together.

Katsuki glanced at you, then at your still-shivering form, and let out a long, suffering sigh. “You’re still cold?”

“No shit, Sherlock.”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re useless like this. Get in the damn bed.”

Your stomach flipped. “Excuse me?”

“You’re freezing, dumbass,” he grumbled, standing to his full height and stripping off his gloves. “You’re losing heat too fast. Either we do this the hard way, where you pass out and I have to warm you up anyway, or you stop being stubborn and get your ass under the covers.”

You hated that he made sense. You hated even more that he was always warm—like a walking furnace, his body heat already making the space around him feel unfairly comfortable.

But the alternative was actually freezing, and you were really starting to lose feeling in your toes.

“…Fine,” you muttered through gritted teeth, standing on shaky legs. “But if you try anything, I’ll—”

“Yeah, yeah, stab me in my sleep, blah blah. Just get in.”

The bed creaked under your combined weight as you clambered in first, bundling yourself under the rough, thin blanket. The moment Katsuki slid in beside you, the whole mattress dipped, pressing you closer together. Your entire body locked up.

And then—

Heat.

The contrast was almost shocking. His warmth radiated, sinking into your frozen limbs, your aching muscles, the marrow of your bones. You exhaled a shaky breath as relief flooded through you, but that relief was immediately overshadowed by the realization that you were spooning.

Spooning. With Bakugo.

“Relax,” Katsuki grunted from behind you, his arm firm around your waist to keep you close. “You’re shivering like crazy.”

You clenched your jaw, trying to ignore how solid he felt, how the slow rise and fall of his chest against your back was weirdly steadying. “I hate this.”

“You think I’m enjoying this?” His breath was hot against the back of your neck, making you worse. “Tch. You’re ice-cold, it’s like hugging a damn corpse.”

You elbowed him weakly. “Then let go.”

He didn’t.

Silence stretched between you, save for the occasional pop of the firewood. The exhaustion from the fight, from the cold, from everything, started creeping in, turning your limbs heavy.

“…Thanks,” you murmured reluctantly.

“For what?”

You swallowed. “Dragging my ass up here. And, y’know. Not letting me freeze to death.”

Katsuki huffed. “Damn right you should be thanking me.” But then, quieter, almost like he didn’t want you to hear it:

“…Just don’t die on me, idiot.”

Your eyes fluttered shut. The warmth, the exhaustion, him—it was all too much.

For once, you didn’t argue.

[00valentina-writes00]

Fucking Vi with a strap? I need it please

♡♥︎ Countertop Carnage ♥︎♡

Warnings: Vi getting absolutely ruined, pink strap (comedic but effective), counter abuse (RIP), standing ovation (Vi’s legs said no), overstimulation (oops), sweaty muscle flexing (mandatory), boot-soaking levels of mess

Vi is bent over the counter, hands gripping the edges so tight her knuckles turn white. She’s already breathless, already wrecked, chest rising and falling in uneven pants as she stares down at the countertop like it’s the only thing keeping her from falling apart completely. Her arms flex with every twitch of her body, muscles shifting beneath sweat-slicked skin, her back arching as she braces for more.

And fuck, do you give her more.

Your strap is thick, big enough to make her whimper when you first pushed it inside, stretching her open inch by inch. Now it glides in and out of her, slick with her arousal, the obscene squelch of her cunt swallowing every inch echoing in the air between you. It’s bright pink—unmistakable, almost ridiculous against the raw, desperate way she takes it—but it stands out beautifully against her flushed, freckled skin. Every thrust shoves her up against the counter, her stomach pressed against the cool surface, her thighs trembling as she fights to keep herself upright.

“Fuck, fuck—” Vi groans, dropping her head forward, her pink hair falling in wild strands around her face. Her voice is hoarse, wrecked, like she’s been screaming your name for hours. Maybe she has.

You tighten your grip on her hips, fingers digging into the plush curve of her ass as you drive into her harder. “What happened, Vi?” you taunt, voice thick with amusement and lust. “All that attitude earlier, and now look at you. Can’t even hold yourself up.”

She growls, trying to throw you a glare over her shoulder, but it dissolves into a choked moan as you slam into her, the tip of your strap hitting that perfect spot inside her. Her whole body jerks, her legs threatening to give out, her nails scraping against the countertop.

“Oh, you like that?” You do it again, sharper this time, watching as she shudders beneath you. Her thighs are drenched, her slick dripping down, making a mess of the counter’s edge and the tops of her boots. “Such a fucking mess, Vi.”

“Shut—fuck, shut up,” she hisses, but there’s no real bite to it. She’s falling apart too fast, coming undone with every brutal snap of your hips.

You lean over her, pressing your chest to her sweaty back, and drag your teeth along the shell of her ear. “Make me.”

Vi tries—oh, she tries—but the only sound that escapes her is a ragged moan when you pull almost all the way out before slamming back inside. She jolts forward, her breath hitching, and you catch the way her fingers tremble against the counter, barely holding on.

“God—shit, I can’t—” Her voice cracks, her legs starting to shake as your pace grows ruthless.

You smirk, lips brushing against her ear as you whisper, “Then don’t.”

And that’s all it takes.

Vi unravels with a strangled cry, her body seizing beneath you, her thighs clenching, her back arching so beautifully it nearly makes you dizzy. Her walls clamp down around the strap, pulsing as her orgasm crashes over her, soaking you, soaking everything. She trembles violently, gasping for air, her fingers clawing at the countertop as wave after wave of pleasure drags her under.

You don’t stop.

Not when she whimpers. Not when her legs give out and she starts sinking against the counter. Not when she pleads, voice cracking, overstimulated and wrecked beyond belief. You keep going, keep fucking her through it, your pace unrelenting, your grip unforgiving.

“You wanted this, didn’t you?” Your voice is rough, almost as wrecked as hers. “Wanted to be fucked until you couldn’t think? Until you couldn’t stand?”

Vi nods weakly, unable to speak, her body limp against the counter.

You pull out slowly, watching as her hole clenches around nothing, twitching, desperate. Then you run your fingers along her swollen, dripping folds, teasing her, pressing against her entrance but not pushing in.

Vi twitches, whining, her hips shifting back in search of more.

“You’re not done yet,” you murmur, voice dark with promise.

And then you grab her waist, drag her back onto your strap, and fuck her all over again.

[shrenvents]

Hi love, you have an amazing imagination, and I love your writing style. I was wondering if you could maybe do some more with Wolverine. I'm in that x men stage again. And I loved you last piece of work on him. Maybe you could do a continuation of it or think of something completely new. Anyway, dont feel pressured ❤️

A/N: ur actually so sweet, thank uu! I'm also rlly shocked but appreciative of all the love Professor Howlett received, so u don't even have to ask twice for more, it's my pleasure ;)

Divided Attention

Professor Howlett II

Part one

Warnings: minors dni, Smut, fluff, language, jealousy, (legal) age gap, oral, f!receiving, semi-public

Pairing: Logan x Student (Mutant) reader

Summary: Things were going well with you and Logan, until he suddenly put distance between you both, acting strangely. On top of that, you catch him threatening one of your fellow classmates and have no choice, but to face your issues, head-on.

Word count: 2.6k

…

Any small moment together, Logan and I chased. The little highs we could derive from our busy schedules, we eagerly pursued.

From a quickie in the janitor's closet, a make-out session after class, or a passionate sleepover, Logan consumed every inch of my life. He was consuming every bit of my mind, and an ominous trepidation was closing in, alongside him.

The more I saw him, the greedier I became. Desperate to see and feel more of him, beyond the surface. So, it was no surprise, that I soon desired something more from our casual relationship.

With graduation just around the corner, I was almost home free. Free to outwardly tell him what I yearned for.

But the concern that racked my brain constantly, that trepidation, was whether he wanted the same.

As I was getting to know him, it was clear there were parts of him I had yet to discover, parts he seemed reluctant to reveal. Sometimes he would be open, close by my side. The next second, he would shut down.

What made matters worse, was that recently, he hadn't sought me out. It's felt as though he's no longer hungry for those small moments, that I still very much craved.

Now I'm on edge and have no clue what he's thinking, or what he thinks of us.

...

The day started like any other. I went to each class, exhausted and disinterested, till that afternoon. Something caught my eye, and the eyes of the school's populace: Logan pinning a male student to the wall of the vast, oak wood hallway.

They speak in hushed tones to one another, and the boy looks beyond frightened, while Logan looks ready to tear his head from his scrawny neck.

It takes only a moment for my alarm to pass, and for me to note, that this boy sits next to me in history.

A sharp intake of breath hitches in my throat.

His name's Mikey, and he has been a nuisance to Logan from the get-go, long before our intimate affair. Labelled as the class clown, Mikey uses his obnoxious voice and meddling powers to disturb Logan's lessons, daily. To top it off, Mikey consistently bothers me, mimicking what I say, and staring at my profile, for far too long.

Just when Logan dips his head closer to Mikey, perhaps to rip out his jugular, like the predator he is, Scott interjects.

"Logan! Drop him!" When Scott's unnerved voice orders Logan, my eyes snap to Mikey's feet, which are spraddled in the air, dangling for dear life.

I guess a few days apart made me forget just how strong he is. Maybe he's just too gentle with me to remember.

As his feet slowly lower to the floor, gasps and murmurs flood the halls, and my head frantically shoots around, surprised by the crowd of avid onlookers.

Eyes anxiously surveying the students, I hone in on Logan again, flinching when seeing his pupils, already fixed on me.

He releases Mikey immediately, retracting from him while Scott grabs his bicep, heatedly whispering into his ear, and Mikey scrambles away.

Logan's eyes shy from mine and my mouth gaps. He almost looks, embarrassed. 'Huh?'

Soon, other teachers arrive to intervene, shooing students from the crime scene.

So, aimlessly wandering outside, into the courtyard, hoping to clear my head, I think back on our classes together. Every time Mikey acted up, Logan seemingly couldn’t care less, looking more spent overall, than unsettled by his brazen jokes.

It was kind of funny, seeing Mikey quaking in his boots at the older male. It was only yesterday, that he spoke to me with such forwardness, and to Logan with such rudeness, carrying that typical smug expression -it was nice to see it wiped clean.

I laugh to myself, disbelieving what just transpired. I can only imagine what errand Professor Xavier will make Logan do to atone, or what bonding exercise he and Mikey may perform...

While I trudge down the stone steps, onto the vivid green field, I spot the devil himself, Mikey. He sits under the shade of a grand willow tree, dome hung between his bent knees.

Feeling rather empathetic, I stroll towards him, stopping in front of his feet. Evidently noticing my bright attire, his head pops up, and his dewy eyes widen.

"You alright?" I ask warily and his bottom lip trembles. He sniffs once, toughening up before responding, "I'm good." I nod, then look at the endless landscape to my right. "Whatever you did must've really been something, Mr. Howlett's rarely that peeved."

"You're telling me," he huffs sarcastically, sounding pained. Shifting, I sit beside him, maintaining some space. "If you don't mind me asking, what was that about?" Mikey pauses, thinking hard.

"No clue," he mumbles pitifully. I gawk at him, brows creasing. He peers at me and copies my appearance. "I'm not lying," he exclaims defensively. "There's no way," I retort, scoffing.

"If you don't fucking believe me, why ask," Mikey spits, mumbling "bitch" as he shoots to stomp off.

Suspiring, my crown gingerly falls onto the tree's trunk. Finding comfort in its rugged bark, I calmly savour the crisp air.

I close my eyes, for what feels like a few minutes until a fierce call of my name grips my consciousness. Eyelids cracking open, my vision focuses on Mr. Howlett himself, standing in all his glory, glaring down at me with a brooding look.

"If it isn't the man of the hour," I giggle humourlessly, straightening my spine, but choosing not to stand and seem intimidated, like he evidently wishes me to be.

"You have a nice chat?" Logan questions with an irked tone, obviously remarking on my 'chat' with Mikey. 'Was he watching us?'

I tilt my head defiantly. "I'm not picking sides," I raise both hands in surrender, smiling from ear to ear. His eye faintly twitches, and I nearly gulp. He grumbles incomprehensible nonsense, then chooses to stay relatively quiet, which is unlike him.

"Do you have something to say? Or are you just gonna stand there?" I inquire venomously.

Clearly dispising my attitude, he concentrates on my face, scowling. His features have rage written all over them, but I refuse to bow out of this impending feud.

He grumbles under his breath again, and I break.

"Speak up!" I shout, swiftly bringing my gaze to our surroundings, making sure we're alone -which is something Logan clearly isn't worried about.

"What the fuck do you two have to talk about?" He just about growls and I tense, stunned. My face contorts with perplexity. "Me and Mikey?" I question, and his eyebrows nearly conjoin in response. "Not much, just discussing you're outburst," heaving, I continue, "though he didn't have much to say on the topic," sighing, "you?"

His nostrils flare slightly, and I do my best to appear composed. "What else have you talked about?" He grunts, and I roll my eyes, rising to my feet, bored with our conversation. "What's it to you?" I ask rhetorically, internally referring to the distance he'd been building between us.

Moving elsewhere, I roughly brush past his shoulder. He doesn't immediately reply, but trails after me as I march further into the courtyard.

"The fuck you on about?" Logan vulgarly rumbles, and I forget to speak.

My pace then staggers when he delicately wraps his digits over my forearm, tugging me, almost cautiously, backward.

Square to him, I discern his thumb tracing my skin lightly, before finally looking at him. He examines his finger as it sweeps across my flesh. "Logan?" I carefully utter, and his eyes stay glued to where our bodies meet.

"Why do you talk to him," he pauses, snarling with emphasis on 'talk,' yet again. Then he murmurs, "-When you have me?" He’s so quiet, that the words are barely audible. My features instantly soften. “Are you,” I hesitate, “Jealous?”

When he doesn’t answer, I gasp so loud, that my palm slaps over my mouth. He looks around, avoiding eye contact as I grasp the situation. “Did you threaten Mikey 'cause he yaps to me in class?”

Logan scorned the very idea of jealousy, cruising his head in a circle, to showcase his exasperation. I smirk uncontrollably and he snits. "Don't flatter yourself Princess," he remarks blatantly. My smirk only expands. "I can't believe you," I laugh hysterically and he motions like he's going to walk away, but he stays put, and I know I've won.

"Don't pull that face," he complains, gesturing to my proud look.

"What face?" I ask, playing naive, faintly swinging my body side to side. "Just stop talking to him, he's a bad influence," he grunts, peering off to the horizon. I giggle, "Or what? Do you intend to beat every boy who speaks to me?" I counter, and he struggles to fight a smile.

"What if I do," Logan more or less declares.

Shaking my head, "You've got some nerve," I huff, "seeing as you've been avoiding me lately."

"I haven't been avoiding you-"

I interrupt, "Oh yes, you have," playfully punching his gut with a grin, which drops the second my knuckles practically grow a heartbeat. "Ow," I breathe and at last, he laughs.

When Logan's laugh dims, he looks almost sullen. "Didn't think you'd notice," he mumbles and I quirk my chin in confusion. "You seem preoccupied." Gapping at him once more, he rolls his eyes, showing his teeth. "Don't gimme that damn look girl," he heaves, "you're young and, and-"

"And what?"

"Attractive," he sighs heavily, "you don't need an old man weighing you down."

I still, catching his genuine displeasure and defeat. It's like he's disappointed I may seek romance from someone else, but accepts it regardless, for my sake, my happiness.

My heart thumps irregularly and I feel like jumping his bones. I release a lengthy sigh, with a smile twinkling. His brow rises questioningly, seeming anxious about a reaction to his masked insecurity.

"What?" He bites.

"I'm relieved," his confusion visibly progresses. "I thought you were tired of me." As his mouth opens, to probably insult my intelligence, I cut in. "I wanna go steady with you, if that wasn't obvious already." My smile grows sheepish, then taunting, "I like you Lo, and clearly you must love me."

Like he's been holding his breath, a loud puff of air escapes his chapped lips, and I shamelessly watch as he wets them.

"You've gotta be the strangest girl I've ever met," he utters with a smirk forming, and I return one, interpreting his words as a declaration of love.

"Woman," I correct, then babble jokingly, "refined Lady." He confidently strides closer. "Mistress-"

The air leaves my lungs as his solid arms devour me, squeezing tightly.

"You best realize what you're committing to," Logan comments, lightly lifting strands of my hair with his fingertips, to kiss my neck. "That means, no more talking to boys," he grunts, humour coaxing his tone. "Especially ones so far out of your league," he pulls his head back, to peer at my expectant face, "It's not even funny," he finishes with a grin.

I laugh, unable to contain my joy, quickly hiding my wild smile in his chest. A pleased hum rumbles in tune with his heavy breathing, and I listen to his heartbeat's fairly, rapid pace.

For a while, we stay present in each other's arms, with fulfillment and ease consuming our beings, synchronously. Logan's fingers drift across my lower back, leisurely tracing my curves.

"I like you, so much," I whisper airly because the words couldn't be repressed, and had escaped. His hands gradually slow to a halt, till he abruptly draws back. He looks at me, with such intense seriousness, that I shudder.

Then, he pulls away entirely, taking my hand in his larger one, to drag me deeper into the field -into the overgrown areas, looted with massive trees and bushes.

"Logan?" My whisper transforms into a squeak when I'm hauled behind various, untrimmed hedges. His palms grope my hips, stilling me before he drops to his knees. I ogle his smug face as it bores into me, before he wrestles with my pink, low-waisted, jean shorts, impatiently dragging them down my plump thighs. He mumbles, "Ridiculous" when his eyeline levels with my purple, close-to-sheer underwear.

Like my shorts, he yanks them down to my ankles, then swiftly encloses his mouth over my cunt, swiping the folds with his tongue. I throw the back of my hand over my incoming yelp, biting down to muffle it.

"Is this you tryna to deflect admitting you really like me?" I joke meekly as my mouth parts from my hand, but I quickly chomp down again, when he licks me, with a long flick of his tongue. I gasp and whimper, using my spare hand to claw at his scalp for leverage, as he hungrily laps my pussy, sucking on its nub.

A tremor racks my insides, eliciting spasms while he builds up a powerful, but excruciatingly relaxed pace. His bulky digits move to relentlessly rub my clit, applying a rhythmic pressure that makes me sob.

Logan shushes me, mouth still buried in my folds. The buzz of his voice sends shivers through my core, and the strength of his action grows, acknowledging my imminent finish.

“Eyes on me,” Logan basically growls, before diving back into my cunt.

I muffle a cry of his name with a fist now, biting my knuckles. Then, I look from the heavens, back down to the one hand I still have, clenching his silky locks.

My knees begin to buckle and his sizeable palms relocate to support my hips, with his fingertips bordering my ass, kneading it. "I'm close," I gasp, barely audible through my hand. He hums again, and when it elicits another shiver, and shake of my frame, I tumble over his back, wrecked by my climax.

Now hunched over him, with my hands splayed down his torso, I tremble furiously, coming down from my high. I can't help but whine when Logan continuously licks me. He tastes every inch of me like I'm the meal of a lifetime, like I'm oxygen itself.

"Enough," I choke, as my arousal becomes too much. His response is simply plunging further into me, to lick all the way from my ass, to clit.

Steam floods my stomach, lighting me on fire. A raging flame consumes my very being, and I relish in how dirty and dangerous this encounter is -in public on his knees for me, Logan made it known that I'm his, and he let me know, that he couldn't care less who heard us, because I was his.

"You're disturbed," I breathe, and his chuckle resonates louder when he separates from my damp skin. "You love it," he states with a smirk and an arch of his brow. He then runs his tongue over his soaked lips, and I bite back a groan, sighing, "I do."

Lifting, moving my palms to his shoulders, I capture his top lip, sucking on it as a thank you. I grin, and as if he can hear my jest coming from a mile away, he scoffs and turns to hide his smirk.

"And you must lovveee me," I repeat my earlier comment with even more enthusiasm, and he shakes his head.

He rises and I do the same. Logan then goes in for a kiss to shut me up, but just as he does, I catch his mumble of "I do."

I gasp into his mouth, eyelids stretching.

My lids briskly flutter shut when he deepens the kiss, dipping my figure, rather romantically, and we both smile.

[ms-demeanor]

are there really chiropractors out there right now who are claiming they can treat all that stuff?? im really actually asking because ive never seen anything like that at all, but obviously i might just be really lucky. i constantly see people saying chiropractors claim they can treat everything, and its just baffling to me. my chiropractor is pretty young (so maybe she just doesnt have the same attitude as older ones?) and went to med school for physical therapy before becoming a chiropractor, and shes the only doctor out of the dozens ive seen who already knew what hyper-mobile ehlers-danlos syndrome is before meeting me. shes never once said anything about treating anything at all beyond the issues in my back from my muscles going whack, and has actually suggested i see a physical therapist (and referred me to one) to strengthen my back so i dont have to see her very often. i assumed that was the normal experience with chiropractors, but did i just luck out? are the majority of chiropractors really insane and claiming they can cure diabetes and stuff?? thats so crazy to think about...

Just to clarify: your chiropractor is not a doctor. Having a doctorate in physical therapy does not make one an MD, having a DC degree does not make one an MD. People who become physical therapists go to school for physical therapy, but that wouldn't really be called medical school any more than getting a degree in nutrition would be called medical school.

I want to be very firm here because you're using the words "medical school" and "doctor" and that indicates to me that she IS claiming to be more than what she actually is, which is a chiropractor and possibly a physical therapist, both of which have requirements that pale in comparison to the training that MDs (or even nurse practitioners or physician's assistants) go through. But chiropractors really like to let people believe that they're doctors. They're not. They're chiropractors.

It's a very good thing that your chiropractor has told you to seek other care for your back pain; neck and spinal adjustments are potentially life threatening to people who don't have connective tissue disorders and are *extremely* dangerous and an even greater risk for people who DO have hypermobility issues (check out what @thebibliosphere has to say about chiropractic and EDS). A licensed physical therapist will be able to do much, much more for you than a chiropractor, and is a MUCH safer choice.

Now, all of that being said:

Yeah it's super common for chiropractors to claim they can treat all kinds of nonsense and when they're doing so it is probably technically illegal and if they actually treat stuff it's probably technically practicing medicine without a license and can be really fucking dangerous if it convinces people to forgo evidence-based treatment.

Here's a chiropractor in LA claiming to treat a laundry list of ailments:

Here's one also in LA county whose yelp photo is of her doing spinal manipulation on a baby (Literally never ever let a chiropractor treat your child it can no-shit kill them) and offering prenatal and perinatal care

Here's a guy in North Hollywood claiming to treat asthma and allergies with chiropractic:

It's not the majority of chiropractors, but it's more than you'd want.

[regressionschool]

A Quiet Afternoon at Home

The sun streamed through the window of the cozy living room, bathing the space in warm, golden light. Kim sat perched in her highchair, legs swinging idly in the air, her bunny-covered footie pajamas crinkling softly with every move. A large pink bib, embroidered with "Daddy's Little Angel," hung around her neck, slightly smeared with the remnants of mashed bananas from her lunch.

Her expression was one of mild distraction, lips pursed around her thumb, eyes fixed on the colorful cartoons playing on the TV. But the occasional wiggle of her bottom betrayed something else entirely—an unconscious habit born of her complete lack of control. Her diaper, already swollen from the morning, gave a faint squish as she shifted in place, unaware of the telltale signs of what had just happened.

“Kimmy,” called a warm, sing-song voice from the kitchen. It was Sarah, her caretaker, carrying a sippy cup filled with apple juice. She approached with a practiced patience, as if dealing with a little one who had long accepted her place. “Did you make another present for me?”

Kim blinked at her, thumb slipping from her mouth with a soft pop. Her cheeks flushed pink, a mix of embarrassment and resignation crossing her face. She didn’t need to answer; the sagging weight of her diaper said it all. Sarah gave her a knowing smile, setting the sippy cup down on the tray of the highchair.

“Aww, it’s okay, sweetie,” Sarah cooed, reaching over to tousle Kim’s blonde hair, now tied into two childish pigtails. “That’s what your diapers are for, isn’t it? You tried to hold it, didn’t you?”

Kim nodded faintly, her lower lip quivering. “I-I felt it, but…” She trailed off, glancing down at her lap, where her hands nervously fidgeted with the edge of her pajama sleeves. “It just… happened.”

“It always does, baby,” Sarah said softly, crouching down so she was at eye level. “You’re just not big enough to make it to the potty, are you?”

Kim bit her lip, tears threatening to spill. She didn’t protest, didn’t argue, because deep down she knew Sarah was right. She’d been through regression school, where every ounce of her adult independence had been carefully stripped away, replaced with the routines and instincts of a toddler who might think about potty training but could never follow through. The smallest flutter in her tummy was always too late, her body betraying her before she even realized it was happening.

Sarah leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to Kim’s forehead. “No tears, sweetheart. Mommy’s here to keep you dry and happy. Well… maybe not dry,” she teased with a light chuckle. “But happy, for sure.”

Kim managed a small smile, the corners of her lips twitching upward despite herself. She clung to the comforting reassurance in Sarah’s voice, even as her soggy diaper grew cold and clammy against her skin. This was her normal now—no responsibility, no expectations beyond simply being the little girl she’d been molded into.

“Now,” Sarah said, lifting Kim from the highchair with ease, her arms cradling her protectively. “Let’s get you cleaned up and into a nice fresh diaper, okay? Then maybe we’ll do some coloring. Or would my little princess like to play tea party instead?”

Kim wrapped her arms around Sarah’s neck, resting her head on her caretaker’s shoulder. She didn’t answer right away, simply snuggling closer as Sarah carried her to the nursery. The familiar scent of baby powder and plush toys greeted them as they entered, the pastel pink walls and crib a constant reminder of just how far Kim had regressed.

As Sarah laid her down on the changing table, Kim let out a small sigh, her thumb creeping back into her mouth. She didn’t fight it, didn’t squirm. There was no point. Her future was as padded and protected as the diapers she’d never leave behind.

For Kim, this was forever. She’d always be the toddler stuck on the cusp of potty training but never quite making it. And, as Sarah lovingly taped up a fresh, crinkly diaper around her waist, Kim couldn’t deny the tiniest spark of comfort in that reality.

[bananami]

STFUATTDLAGG

character/s: choso kamo x afab!reader

SYNOPSIS: meangirl!reader x loser!choso is a pairing that lives in my head rent free so when you all voted for choso to be the next hot man i wrote for i knew this was what would come out of it so let’s get into it whores

WARNINGS: this is college based bc u know why. 18+, nsfw, mdni, the whole shebang, kiddos avert ur eyes IT'S ALL SMUT / also just be aware i did use fem language for reader. as always, i did not proof read xxx

A/N: delusion is like drugs for simps, and i am the crackhead

Choso isn't like a nerdy loser, more like he’s just an emo boy, he’s got that alternative look going on and in a school full of preppy rich kids he stands out like a sore thumb. Of course this leads to some not so nice kids being not so nice to him, to which like he literally could not care less. He pays no mind to what anyone thinks of him beyond of course what his brothers think of him.

And as much as people aren’t nice to him, they do not fuck with him directly, lowkey scared of his reactions. Especially following a specfic incident in which someone tried to pick a fight with him. At first he was going to just let it slide but then they said something rude about Yuuji and this man laid them out. People were sent to urgent care and everything. Choso was put on suspension and almost kicked out, but their family friend is a lawyer and threatened to sue the school and anyways (if you know who you know who) so he was allowed back at school and everyone’s a little weary of him. This doesn’t stop the mean comments from coming.

And you. You’re no exception. You made fun of him every chance you got. The way he always did his hair in that weird double bun updo, or how he had his nails painted black, his various piercings and tattoos, the way he dressed so much different, was so much different, than any of the other guys you knew at school.

And you were so disgustingly attracted to him. While everyone would sneer and make fun of him and you played along, in reality you were internally berating yourself.

Choso did his best to ignore you but to be honest in the end you were just too fun to mess with. He thought it was cute how you thought you could hurt his feelings, how you really tried, and didn’t realize that he had a thing for brats and that’s just what you were. Everyone else was too afraid to say it straight to his face ever since the fight except for you.

One time he caught you staring at him and he couldn’t help himself, leaning over with a careless smirk. "If you spent less time staring at me and more time paying attention to the lecture maybe you wouldn’t be failing the class."

"Fuck you, Choso.”

"You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

You hoped he’d mistake your embarrassment for anger. He didn’t. You snapped back, as usual. "Maybe if you didn’t dress like such a freak, you’d actually have some friends.”

"Maybe if you weren’t such a bitch your boyfriends would actually stick around for longer than a few months."

The one stung, and you tried not to let it show. Thrown off your game, all you could bring yourself to reply back was: “don’t call me a bitch.”

He shrugged, as though he were bored with the conversation already. "I never said it was a bad thing, just that you keep dating dudes who can’t handle you."

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

He doesn't answer though, and you spend way too much time thinking about what he could've meant. Was he implying that he could handle you? Was that why he constantly found ways to poke at you? Did he like when you were a brat? Did it matter if he liked it? It led your fantasies down a deep and dark rabbit hole that you spent weeks harping on.

Things get even worse after you realize that Choso might’ve been right about your grades slipping and staring at him in class and whatnot. And (for plot reasons of course) that would mean your professor paired you up with him for the final project so that you’d stand a better chance at passing the class.

Which is how you find yourself standing outside of his apartment door, debating how much you need to actually pass the course for your degree. You kept coming to the same conclusion. You definitely needed to.

"You just gonna stand at my door like a creep or can you move so i can let you inside?” He stood at the top of the staircase up to his apartment, watching you with another bored expression.

You're reaction is second nature. "I’m the creep? How long were you just standing there watching me? Maybe I’d already knocked and you didn’t answer so I was waiting. Let’s get on with it, I don’t need anyone seeing me hanging around-”

"Alright relax, princess. No one’s around to hear you act like you hate me. Come inside and I’ll grab us something to drink.” He opened the door to let you both inside, holding it open for you to enter first.

"First off, I do hate you. And second, how do I know you’re not going to poison me?”

"Don’t worry, I wouldn’t poison you. The plan was going more in the direction of choking.”

"Choked to death? Good to know.”

"You implied killing. All i said was choking.”

"Oh, gross.” You groaned. You pushed away the images that were brought to your mind. Choso's hand around your throat, fingers in your mouth, his breathy whispers telling you what else he'd have you choking on by the end of the night.

It's not too bad for the first few hours. You start out working on the project in the living room, but Choso’s neighbors are loud as all hell and you eventually ask if you guys can move into a room away from that shared wall. And (of course for plot purposes) that would be his bedroom.

"Your bedroom is exactly as I pictured it would be."

"This is the part where I make fun of you for picturing what my bedroom looks like."

"Yeah weird and creepy, just like you.”

"Your insults are getting less and less creative.”

"Yeah well….shut up.”

He’s surprised at that, usually you’d come back at him with something witty and clever and he actually enjoyed it.

It’s quiet and he’s sitting at his desk while you lay casually on his bed when he decides now’s as good a time as ever, and he might never actually get you alone again to say it.

"You ever gonna admit that you find me attractive or keep lying to the both of us?"

You wince. "I don't find you attractive. Stop flattering yourself."

"You flatter me enough with all the staring and drooling you do over me in class."

"You're obsessive," you snap at him.

"At least i can admit it."

You're caught off guard, stuck between wanting to ask what he means and not wanting to give in to the obvious baiting he's doing. When he throws the study material down on to his desk and plops down in front of you on his bed, it seems like he's resigned to not giving you that choice.

"Tell you what, I'll tell you all of the dirty and depraved things I think about on a daily basis, and you can decide after whether you'd like to share those same thoughts of yours with me or not."

"Why would I want to hear any of the thoughts in your head?"

"Because a lot of them revolve directly around you." He's leaned so close you're almost touching one another. Your silence is enough to spur him on. "I think you've never been fucked properly before."

You can't contain the look that falls on your face. "Seriously? This what you think about? My sex life is none of your business, but I'm doing just fine in that department, thank you very much."

He ignores you. "I don't think you've ever been told to shut the fuck up and take it like the good girl I know you can be." That shut you up real quick. Choso is on his knees in front of you, hands cupping around your neck, his thumbs running across your cheeks. "You're whiney little fucking attitude not do it for your boyfriends?" He teased. "They not know how to deal with you when you're being a brat, huh?"

You're head moves without conscious effort, nodding to agree with him.

"You just want some attention, don't you?"

Another nod.

"You want my attention, don't you?"

Hesitation. But you can't help yourself, his presence looming heavy over you, pushing you to admit what you'd kept in the dark for so long.

One of his hands slithers from your throat, down your chest, under the sweats you threw on in a rush to get to his apartment. You're so distracted by his fingers that you don't notice his face moving closer until his mouth is prying yours open. That's all it takes from him to have you stroking your fingers through his hair, pulling it out of the buns they typically are held in.

"Such a little brat." He's hovering over you, pushing your hips into the soft cushion of his bed with his. "Feel how hard it makes me?" He teases as he grinds his hips down, his clothed cock sliding against your center. Your eyes flutter and he grips onto your face with one hand, squeezing firmly. "You're gonna fuck me tonight. Nod if you understand."

You can't believe how quick your head moves up and down. "You're gonna take off those pretty little panties you wore hoping I'd get to see and slide up and down my dick until I tell you to stop. I don't want you cumming until I feel you've begged enough."

It takes no time at all for him to flip the two of you and prop himself up on his forearms. His pants are shimmied off and thrown to his bedroom floor alongside yours.

Your hands are desperate to line him up, anticipation building to have him deep inside of you, but his shoot out to pull them up and place them against his chest. "No, no, no. You don't get me inside you yet, not until you prove to me you deserve it." He urges you along his shaft, flat against his stomach. "That's right, be a good little slut for me and let me feel that pussy slide against my dick."

You watch him from above, his face contorting from concentration to pleasure to near desperation. You've never felt as powerful as you did riding him. Not a single one of your boyfriends ever turning you on as much as Choso was right now. He made you work for it, praising you when you did what he asked, and you chased that praise.

"Shit, look at that baby," he grabbed your hair and yanked your face down to watch yourself slide against him. "Need to feel you squeeze that pussy around me. Fuck, slide me in, slide me in-" his loud groans matched your high pitched sound of relief at having him seated inside you. "Fuck this."

He flipped the two of you back over, gripping each of your legs and forcing them up. "Hold right under your knees for me. Good girl, keep yourself open for me, let me just use you." He fell to his forearms as he plowed into you, giving you no time to get used to any sort of pace.

You tried your best to hold your legs, but you wanted so badly to touch him. One of your hands wandered back up into his lose hair.

He could barely keep his eyes open, mumbling all kinds of truths you were sure he would've kept locked inside had he not been so drunk on the feel of being inside you. "So fucking pretty," he kissed you sloppily, "such a stupid fucking brat, just needed my cock inside you. Feel like heaven, baby. Gonna let me cum inside your little cunt, right? Made me wait so fucking long to have you, I deserve it. Don't I deserve it?"

You can barely form any coherent words, setting for nodding and breathy uh huhs.

"So fucking mean to me, and look how good I'm being to you, huh?" You feel the light slap of his head against your cheek. "Say your sorry, beg me to cum inside your pussy."

You do beg, your apology comes out in between the stuttering and slurring of your words, but you beg and plead with him until he concedes. It his own orgasm that pushes you over, his groans and relentlessness that follow, pushing himself passed the point of no return. You can see the beginning of what looks like tears in his eyes, and he has to force himself to stop, his hips jerking from the overstimulation.

He kisses you ruthlessly, letting his tongue claim your mouth in a manner more harsh than it is anything else. And when he pulls away and his eyes settle back on yours they're equally as harsh.

"No more shitty little boyfriends that can't handle you. I'll handle you. You want my cock, you ask nicely. Understand?"

"Yes," you let your lips peck his, surprising him, "what if I don't wanna be nice about it?"

He smirks, "try it and find out. Now get on your knees and suck my cock like the good girl I know you can be."

[huginsmemory]

Really can't get over the CAN WE TALK? stickynotes. And I mean I think part of it really kinda clicked when I've seen some fanart about it. We really see in TBOB that Ford after beginning to hear voices slipping through the cracks and questions Bill, to learn what Bill really intended, ENTIRELY shuts down his communication with Bill. And you see Bill when he gets questioned in that moment responds with a heavily implied dialogue along the lines of "haha, yeah I tricked you, I'm here to overtake your dimension". But Bill still expects Ford to respond to him in some way, and it's very clear that Bill is shocked when Ford REFUSES to talk to him. And what's interesting is Bill doesn't just IMMEDIATELY begin with threats; he actually leaves stickynotes first, before Bill realizes he's FUCKED UP big time and gets really nasty. There's something pleading with the CAN WE TALK? sticky note. There's a point where Bill does realize he's not getting what he expected, that he's missing Ford, and that he's willing to possibly even smooth some things over, explain things better (maybe even the part that the nightmare dimension is unraveling perhaps) or persuade Ford into Bill's plans. But Ford refuses, and it's already too late for Bill because just like with Stan, Ford feels betrayed and when Ford feels betrayed he'll mercilessly cut the person out of his life. Ford deeply, deeply holds hurt and betrayal and as a result he has zero desire to speak with Bill again (and also uhhh big red flag to take over the world, so also. Yeah).

And it's interesting because it's a slower ramp up until Bill is desperate and threatens, uses violence, because that's what he's always used when it comes down to it, and an ultimatum is given. It wasn't just threats out of the gate; Bill DID try to speak to Ford (btw this is not me being like Ford should have spoken to Bill and it would be magically healthy, cause no matter how you slice it it's just a toxic mess tbh). Threats out of the gate would have been faster; there's over three weeks in the timeline, before Ford goes through the portal (althought we don't get too much context around exactly when everything occurs). That's a lot of time! But Bill didn't threaten Ford immediately. And I think part of that reason is because Bill expected Ford to speak to him, expected their relationship or at least their project to mean enough to Ford that Ford would speak to him and then continue their work, once his anger cooled off. And I think also part of it is because Bill cared about Ford, not that he'd admit it in the moment; but he'd rather Ford willingly be alongside him, then have to force him through threats to do the work on the portal. You see that, even after Ford spends 30 years trying to kill him and nearly even does, when he offers him during wierdmageddon to be a henchmaniac. Bill cares about Ford, wants Ford beside him. But then Ford continues to refuse to engage with him at all, and Bill realizes he's lost Ford, and progressively gets more desperate and angrier as he's still refused, and falls into the violence he usually uses, to get Ford to cooperate.

Anyhow it's one of those things that you wonder what would've happened if they DID speak, but that would ultimately be defying a big part of who Ford is... So in a way it's a juicy juicy tidbit to chew on, the implications beyond the writing on the sticky note.

[revehae]

marionette (r. fantasies)

warnings: smut, noncon, choking, forced relationship

wc. 765

anton doesn’t sense the fear and urgency chilling your bones to the point where you all but sweat yourself.

you wish he would. but he doesn’t. and if he does, he doesn’t comment on it. as if even he knows better than to go against your boyfriend. 

if you can even call him that. sungchan is not your boyfriend. that is what he tells the world, but if it was up to you, you would not be forcing a smile as you stand to his side with his arm draped over your shoulders as he looks at you almost affectionately. 

almost.

but anton does notice the red mark on sungchan’s forearm as it dangles over you. when asked about it, sungchan responds, “oh, it’s nothing. i was exercising too hard.”

you almost bristle in anger at the lie, but the memory of what really happened flickers in your head and you stiffen in something much closer to fear. though only for a fraction of a second, because you dread what will happen if one of sungchan’s friends become suspicious.

they can never know the truth, even if it haunts you. even if your body still aches with the memory. sungchan’s weight on top of you, ignoring your defiance, the way you told him you didn’t want it and begged him to spare you just this once. 

he didn’t. you are starting to think that remorse is something jung sungchan is simply not capable of. 

“can you at least slow down?” you choked out, aching for mercy. 

your eyes were misty, a bright glare in them from the shiny, hot tears that burn your eyes routinely. it was too much for you; it always is. the constant, creaking motion of the weary bed beneath you was a testament to the vigor of which he pounded into you, as if he was using every bit of his strength simply because he could.

you wouldn’t have been surprised. sungchan is flashy like that. it’s there in the way he flaunts his bulging arms and toned abs online after working out, the way he drives his obnoxiously loud, fast cars, the way he only sports the most extravagant clothes, and in the way he always shows you off.

sungchan ignored your cries, having gotten used to tuning them out. it was like second nature to him. “take it,” he hissed, big hands clamping down onto your thighs with enough force to bruise your already sore skin as he kept them spread. 

you whimpered, legs pushed beyond what was comfortable, but you knew better than to move. you clung to his forearms, not to draw him closer, but to desperately attempt to anchor yourself. holding him tight, your fingers scraped his skin, making his face twist in a wince.

“god, you bitch,” sungchan snapped, jerking his hand away from your thigh and repositioning it around your throat. he watched your eyes widen, your fingers flying up to meet his. “you’ll have to be dead to stay fucking still for me, is that it?”

your body went rigid for a moment. your heart was hammering. shaking your head the best you could, you tried to whisper a weak, “no,” but the sound came out as a faint squeak with the same quietness as a broken toy. your throat bobbed as you tried to breathe, hands uselessly prying at the ones around your neck.

but his grip didn’t slack. instead, you noticed his fingers clamping down onto your windpipe, sucking the life out of you like a noose. sungchan stared into your eyes silently as he pushed you further and further, forcing the breath out of you second by second, and for a moment you were convinced he would actually do it. 

maybe sungchan was, too. the intensity of his eyes locked on yours, no soul in them, no empathy, was more paralyzing than his grip on its own. but ultimately, he slackened his hold, tugging at your hair, and leaned low as he threatened, “then, you better fucking listen.”

the feeling of sungchan’s hand slipping down to your waist jolts you out of the cold memory.

you fidget with the black turtleneck you’re sporting as you force yourself to lean closer into sungchan’s side and throw anton a forced smile as you reply, “yeah, you know how he gets. always on grind mode when he hits the gym.”

because in spite of what sungchan does to you now, if anyone ever finds out about who he is when the two of you are alone, he will be a billion times worse.

[enha-hype]

the sound of you

pairing : nicholas wang x reader

genre : pure fluff!! established relationship

warnings : none i think?

word count : 0.9k

Nicholas had been a little quiet ever since he got home from work that evening. It was clear he was lost in thought about something. When you asked him about it, he just chalked it up to him being tired but you knew there was something more to it. Still, you didn’t want to be pushy so you left it at that, knowing that he’d tell you about it when he was ready.

A few hours later, you’re in bed looking at your phone with your head resting on his chest, which is when he finally brings himself to ask what’s been bugging him all day. “Y/n? Do you find me scary?”

You put your phone down and turn to face him. “What?”

“It’s just, you know, everyone I meet always tells me that I come off as scary and intimidating – even Euijoo and Fuma felt the same when they first met me apparently – so I couldn’t help but wonder if you maybe feel the same as well at times. Because…well, because I don’t want you to feel that way, ever,” his voice is soft and a little sad. He meets your gaze, like he wants you to know he really means this. “I want to be your safe space, your comfort person. I know I have sharp features that make me look a little threatening at times, but you know I’d never do anything to hurt you, right?”

“Oh my love,” you cup his cheek. “Is that what you’ve been thinking about all evening?”

He nods, covering your hand with his.

“God, you are so cute,”

He frowns. “Cute?”

“Yes, cute. Baby, I’ve never found you scary.”

“Really?”

“Uh huh. I find you about as scary as a baby kitten,”

“But kittens are already babies,”

“Exactly,”

“You could’ve just stopped with you’re not scary,” he sulks, a little offended.

You giggle. “But you know now that I think about it, I never did tell you about how I first fell for you, did I?”

He shakes his head, his eyes widening in sudden curiosity. “How?”

“It was love at first sound for me – the sound of your laugh. You sounded like the sun, Nicho, and it was so lovely and infectious I couldn’t help smiling too. You were with Euijoo, and it must’ve been something really funny because you were laughing for two minutes straight and this might sound silly, but I will cherish those two minutes for the rest of my life. I’d had such a shitty day and was feeling pretty hopeless, but then I heard you laugh and all I could think was, well a world that is capable of producing such a delightful sound can’t be so bad, can it? I don’t know if anyone has told you but your laugh is so . . . it embodies happiness. You know those pictures of rabbits that are captioned, ‘That’s the most bunniest looking rabbit I’ve seen’? That’s kind of what your laugh is like,”

He giggles and shakes his head like you’re crazy, although he feels his cheeks flush red. “You’re being ridiculous,”

You continue undeterred, “Like, if I were to meet an alien and had to explain what laughter is, I’d make them listen to your laugh specifically and say, ‘This is the sound we produce when our bodies are filled with so much joy we can hardly contain it. This is what happiness sounds like’,”

“Okay, you’ve gone beyond ridiculous now,” he rolls his eyes, but he feels his chest swell with love.

“No, I’m serious! When I first listened to you laugh, it made me want to keep listening to it, to be the reason for your laughter henceforth. And I swear to God even today every time I hear you laugh and see your eyes crinkle in that adorable way, I fall in love a little bit more which is insane because I think my heart might just burst at this rate. And for someone who fell in love the way I did, can you imagine how ridiculous it sounds to be told you’re scary?” you smile, booping his nose.

God, you’re going to make him cry at this rate. He pulls you to his chest, hoping you won’t notice how he’s already teared up just a little. What did he ever do to deserve someone like you? “How come you’ve never told me this before?” he asks. “All this time I thought you didn’t know me until Euijoo introduced us,”

“Well you never asked, for one thing. Besides, admitting how utterly, hopelessly, head-over-heels I am for you is hardly in my best interests, is it? Because I know now you’re definitely going to use this information to blackmail me all the time.”

This earns another laugh from him, and it surprises you how you haven’t gotten used to its effect on you even after so many months together. You didn’t know it was possible to love someone so much.

Objectively speaking, you could understand where people came from when they said he’s intimidating. But for you personally, you just couldn’t see it because ugh, even when you guys argued he had this softness in his eyes that melted your heart. Even otherwise, he was only ‘scary’ until one got to know what a softie he actually was, and you were sure even Euijoo and Fuma could attest to that fact.

“Well I’m not making any promises, but I’ll try to keep the teasing and blackmailing to a bare minimum,” he says in a mock-serious tone.

You pull back to look at him. “Uh huh, and what would be the ‘bare minimum’ according to you?”

“Oh I don’t know, I’m thinking like thrice a day?”

You punch him playfully. He breaks into a smile, closing the distance between you with a kiss.

you can read my other works here

a/n : yes i wrote this solely because i needed to gush about how much i freaking love hearing nicho's laugh. i'm not even kidding i genuinely think he has the best laugh i've ever heard, just listening to it makes me so happy. if any of y'all win a fancall with him i need you to tell him how beautiful his laugh is please also why am i just a nichojoo account atp. someday soon i will get over the nichojoo brainrot and write for other idols but that day is not today apparently

divider credits : @cafekitsune

[sixosix]

m m m m maybe blanket plus yuuta plus hurt/comfort maybe. maybe 🤞

in which rika likes you because yuuta definitely, definitely does.

warnings wc 800, mention of injuries and descriptions of blood !! careful when u read <3 also i took hurt comfort literally BWHAHSAH hope i did your expectations justice nyx ily

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“Yuuta. Yuuuuta.”

Rika’s voice echoed in the quiet hall. Yuuta winced, wishing Rika would keep it down; it was 2 AM, and no one would appreciate being woken up around this hour. But he knew that if he said so, Rika would be sad, and he didn’t want to hurt Rika and cause a worse scene.

“I’m fine, Rika-chan, really,” Yuuta murmured.

Rika growled unhappily. Yuuta, too, knew that he was lying. Although his wounds weren't life-threatening, he still needed to get them treated before they got infected. But Yuuta had just come back to this room—he was so, so tired. Sleeping in wouldn’t hurt anyone but him, right?

“Yuuta!” Rika snapped. It reverberated and shook the walls.

“Shh, Rika-chan,” Yuuta whispered hastily. “Please, our friends are sleeping.”

“Yuuta?” 

Both Yuuta and Rika fell silent, alarmed. That voice certainly wasn’t Rika’s, and it most definitely came from the door.

“Yuuta?” you asked again, followed by a knock. “Are you okay in there?”

“I—I’m—I’m fine!” Yuuta yelped.

“Didn’t you just come back from a mission? Why are you here instead at Ieiri-sensei’s?” Your voice was muffled by the barrier that separated you both, but it was still enough of your voice to have Yuuta’s ears reddening.

“I was! I’m resting now!” Yuuta lied straight through his teeth, embarrassed beyond belief. In truth, he didn’t want to disturb her.

“Yuuta’s a liar!” Rika chose not to stay silent at the worst time. “Liar!”

The door swung open. Yuuta didn’t have enough time to hide a steadily growing red shirt or his pretty much the same face. The air thickened as you drew closer, and Yuuta struggled to tell if it was because of Rika or his reaction to you.

“Okkotsu Yuuta,” you said, deceptively calm. Yuuta felt the hair on the back of his arms rise in alarm. “Yuuta, don’t tell me that the stain on your shirt isn’t from ketchup.”

It was his blood, so Yuuta obediently stayed silent.

You sighed and spun around to leave the room. Yuuta’s chest ached as he watched you leave. His lip trembled, and he looked over to Rika, who seemed to be giving him that same stare of disappointment.

Yuuta shrunk in on himself. “I think I made Y/N mad…”

“Stupid Yuuta,” Rika trilled. “Yuuta is an idiot!”

“I know, I know,” Yuuta cried. “I get it now.”

As he was preparing to wallow, Footsteps emerged once again. You burst into the room with a first aid kit and a stern glare that made the protests die on Yuuta’s tongue. Strangely, Rika was silent.

“Let me see,” you demanded.

Yuuta’s face flamed with embarrassment, but he obliged and tugged on his shirt. Most of the injuries were cuts on his torso that would surely hurt once he showered, but again, it wasn’t anything worth all of this. He braced himself for the stinging pain once the cotton grazed his open wound, but instead, he found himself too flustered by your proximity to even notice you were already working on his wounds.

The room was dead silent, save for Yuuta’s labored breathing. Rika had disappeared; Yuuta chalked it up to him not being in danger anymore. 

“Yuuta, if this happens again, come to my room, okay?” you said softly. 

“I can’t—”

“Yes, you can. I’m asking you to.”

Yuuta deflated. “I can’t just disturb you.”

“I want you to disturb me.”

What a dangerous thing to say. Yuuta’s gaze went sharper. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do.” Your touch was too gentle. You faced Yuuta’s gaze head-on, fearless. “And you would do the same for me. Aren’t you the one being unfair?”

Yuuta sighed. He could never win when it came to you, anyway.

“Thought so,” you mused, carefully pulling his shirt down again. “You should learn how to ask, Yuuta.”

“I’m trying,” he muttered.

You tugged on the blanket folded neatly by his side and draped it over his shoulders. The heat of your touch remained in the blanket's warmth. When you stepped back to grin proudly at your work on a flustered and helplessly endeared Yuuta, you then frowned.

“Hey, where’d Rika go? I thought she wanted to share the blanket.”

“I think she wanted you to share it with me,” Yuuta said before he could think about it.

“Oh.” You blinked. “Is that so? Well, I guess that’s not a bad idea.”

Liar, he could hear Rika’s voice. Well, he never denied it.

Yuuta laid down carefully and lifted an arm from under the blanket. You crawled inside and settled beside him, launching into a ramble about how you were worried sick when Yuuta didn’t return early. He still struggled to ask for what he wanted, so he would settle for this.