#its not bothering that much yet but if it ever gets too out of control ill surely get it checked out
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fr0gery · 3 months ago
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i wish i was immature
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aajjks · 7 months ago
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every hour, every minute. (m)
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synopsis. jungkook can be an animal when it comes to fucking you sensless.
warnings. 18+ explicit s-x, k-ssing , unpr-tected s-x [BE SMART IRL AND WRAP IT!] b-iting , obsessed jk, he is so lovesick :((, but he’s very horny, rough s-x, he fucks you between a door n him, strong jk, borderline yandere jk 😵‍💫🫡
note. hihi ! Plz send asks because I love you all also warning, this is messy n cringe. PLZ SEND THIRST ASKS ANYTIME OR JUST ASKS TALK TO MEEEEE! share feedback!
*not edited*
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Jungkook has no self control when it comes to you.
You are irresistible to him, he is so helpless when it comes to you. What is it about that gets him so hot and bothered, just one look at you? He’s hard.
You get him so horny without doing anything at all, you’re washing dishes? He’s mesmerised by you, with the way your hands work, the way you’re so focused on doing them.
All of it gets to him. He feels so dumb, he should feel disgusting at himself for being so horny about the most normal things you do.
It’s disgusting, but he can’t control it. You’d be so embarrassed if you could hear his thoughts, you’d leave him.
He’s so addicted to fucking you, feeling you in the deepest and most intimate way he can, your lips, your nose, your damn e/c eyes, that seductive gaze you give him.
You’re the most sexiest woman he’s ever laid his eyes on,
If only people knew just how much of a whore Jungkook is for his woman. They’d find him pathetic. He doesn’t give a single fuck though.
You are his. He could fuck you forever and he wouldn’t get tired. God, he loves you so much.
Jungkook isn’t good with words or let alone expressing his feelings out loud, he is obsessed with you, he’s so crazy for you but he is unable to express it.
Unless it’s through intimacy.
So that’s why he’s pounding into you like a dog in heat, breathing so loudly into your ear as you yelp, breathless, his large palm holding the back of your neck so you’re looking straight into his wild brown eyes, clouded with love.
“Fuck— love you s’much princess!” Jungkook confesses into the shell of your ear, his voice rough and husky, you can’t respond because the high of the pleasure is too much for you to handle. He knows your body so well.
He knows your spots.
Your man knows how to fuck you so good, you whimper, your nails scratching on his skin, he’s so strong, holding your legs effortlessly when you lose yourself into him.
He feels so good inside you. You’re sure you see stars right now.
He pounds into that spot once again and you moan out loud, digging your nails once again into his flesh. Jungkook grunts, it spurs him on more, the man is a stallion, holding you in place while rutting into you feverishly.
“S-So good, kookie!” You praise your husband. Jungkook bites your nipple and gives it a gentle pinch, driving you insane.
“My baby, fuck… love you so fucking much.” He presses his lips impatiently to yours, his kiss is passionate, swallowing your breath.
“‘m gonna fuck you so good because you deserve it baby, I love you so much.”
He is so passionate, so gentle yet rough. You could never get used to his touch truly, it still makes your skin ignite, just one touch and your body’s on fire.
“My princess.” He finally stops kissing you. “Hope you have the energy because we’re not going to sleep tonight.”
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reidmotif · 9 months ago
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Dialing up for Trouble
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Summary: Reader and Spencer were fuck-buddies, until Spencer cuts her off quite suddenly. A party and some risque images may be enough to get them back to their old routine.
Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader
Category: Smut
Content Warning: semi-public sex, sexting, mentions of nude images and descriptions of generic lingerie, masturbation (f!receiving), penetrative sex, semi-dom!spencer
Word Count: 3.5 k
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Clichés bothered me. There was no other way to put it. I’d grown up hating the likes of love triangles, meet-cutes, chosen ones, and right now, I was being reminded more than ever of that hatred because, what the fuck? 
“Too much of a good thing” was the reasoning Spencer had cited when he proposed we stop sleeping together casually, and return to our previous relationship of  “just coworkers”. I’d let him know how ridiculous I found his sentiment, and attempted every possible method to continue our secret rendezvous, but he was absolutely dead-set on his decision, it seemed.
 No more sex. No more late-night calls. None of it. It was all over. All because of a cliche. 
We seemed to agree on one thing, and that was, yes. The sex was fantastic. It really was that good. While I’d never wish weariness on Spencer Reid, I couldn’t deny that in the aftermath of stress and frustration from whatever life had chosen for him, the way he’d deal with that was absolutely electrifying for me.
I’d find myself constantly breathless, pulled into hotel rooms, storage closets- anything resembling the barest hint of privacy, and allow him to use me as he saw fit. I gave him complete trust and control over my body, and in turn, he rewarded me with some incredibly life-changing orgasms. And for what it’s worth, he seemed to get an equal amount of satisfaction out of our hidden trysts, which only made his recent decision that more devastating.  
It’d been roughly a month since we’d had sex, or anything resembling the sort, and I found myself absolutely deprived. When the FBI gave out invitations to its semi-annual gala, I imagined the festivities would be enough to distract me, but I was completely in error for assuming so. Amidst drinks and conversations, there was the occasional lull where I couldn’t help but absentmindedly imagine the feel of his hands over my skin, squeezing the fat of my hips. His lips trailing up and down my neck, focusing on spots only he knew about. The way his hair would tickle against my thighs when he’d bury his head-
“Hey.” 
The voice breaks me out of my thoughts, and I have to remind myself not to choke on my beverage. There he was. The current subject of my thoughts, standing in front of me, live and in the flesh. Spencer Reid. 
“Hey.” I mirror back, taking a sip of my drink, acting as lax as I could, given the circumstances. “Enjoying yourself?” I ask, gesturing to the party in front of us, the general ambience. 
“You know me.” He replies, pausing for a second, keeping his gaze trained on mine. “Not my scene but.. doable.” 
I chuckle for a moment, understanding perfectly. Spencer wasn’t exactly the most social guy out there. I was honestly surprised he’d chosen to come to this thing at all in the first place. 
“You look nice.” He says, suddenly. “Your dress. It’s nice.” He rushes out the words, as if he’s scared to say them in the first place. 
I smooth down the fabric instinctively, nodding. I try not to let the compliment affect me so much, keeping my head down for a split second to hide the creeping heat emanating from my cheeks. 
 “Thank you. I appreciate it.” 
I surprise myself with my own answer. The silence for that tick is horrible. I appreciate it? Jesus. I couldn’t think of the right words anymore. The correct and witty response that would allow this conversation to flow smoothly. 
 I truly wanted to fuck this man so bad, it made me look stupid. 
And stupid I was, because yet again, I attempted to test the current parameters of our relationship he’d put us on. I swallow my pride, lifting my head to meet his eyes with mine. 
“If you like it so much, you could- you know. Take it off.” I say, biting my lip. There’s a light tease in my voice, but it’s obvious I’m being as forthcoming as I possibly could. No games. No jokes. I didn’t want to dance around it, and I hoped my boldness would reward me as it did previously in the past. 
But no, it seems that fortune does not favor the bold, because Spencer’s immediate response was to shake his head, lowering his voice. He pulled on my arm to decrease our proximity, to the point where it was ensured no passer-bys could possibly hear our conversation. 
“Come on.” He pleads, almost looking desperate.  “I told you we should stop- hasn’t that worked out? We can be coworkers. This works.”
I roll my eyes, letting my displeasure show plainly over my face. “This works?” I say, and the sarcasm is clear in my voice. “Sex worked too, you know.” 
“I know it did!” He says, in a hushed whisper. “But- we can’t. No. It’s not right. Too much of a-” 
“If you finish that sentence, I swear to god.” I say, my expression turning much more volatile. I forcibly shrug his arm off me. “This is stupid.” I continue, trying not to let my voice rise. “I see the way you look at me. I know it was good for both of us. I know you’re thinking about it just as much as I am, so why not!” There’s a hint of hurt in my voice as well. Underneath all the sex, I’d grown to miss the interactions after. The giggles under covers and the feel of his hair in my fingers. I missed him. All of him. 
There’s a miserable pause on his end, and I hold my breath waiting for his next words. Spencer sputters, looking absolutely defeated. “Because- because we just can’t, okay?” He replies, helplessly, stepping back from me, as I’d done with him. “Look. I’m just going to enjoy the rest of the party, okay? Take care of yourself, yeah?” 
Before I can get in another word, demanding a real explanation from the man, he leaves me alone, replaying the words of his confusing outburst in my mind. 
I take a short time to myself, electing to go use the restroom and take a breather from the party, a bit on edge after our exchange. Was it possible he was completely fine with what the loss of our arrangement had done to us? Was I the only one absolutely losing my mind? Any attempt to diverge my attention from the topic proved futile, and  I remained in the closed room, mindlessly adjusting myself in the mirror with no real rhyme or reason. There’s an eventual use of my phone, focusing the camera directly on my face to make sure nothing had smudged or looked off on my face in the time I’d last checked my makeup. In the use of the device, I remembered the pictures I’d taken before coming here. 
The pictures weren’t meant to serve any true purpose. I’d bought new lingerie for this dress, as my previous bras weren’t suited to the cut and shape of the specific piece of clothing, and decided to take a few pictures for myself. It was lacy, and pretty, but nothing truly special. The bra had a slight push-up effect, and the panties were a bit cheekier than my normal, day-to-day undergarments.  The actual lingerie was innocent- harmless, even. Looking at the images right now, though, a salacious idea creeped into my head. 
Under the right circumstances, these could be exactly the catalyst to finally receiving what I wanted. 
I open the messaging app on my phone, finding Spencer’s contact, and beginning to type out a simple message. 
hey. 
The response is immediate. 
What’s up? 
You good? 
Where’d you go? 
I laugh a little. I imagined him scanning the crowd for me, trying to figure out where I’d gone off to. 
all good, don’t worry
so we’re still sticking to the no sex thing? 
I see his typing bubble pop up, then pause. Then starts up again. 
Yes. 
Trust me, it’s for the better. 
I groan internally. Of course he thinks that. Always thinks he knows what’s good for everyone. 
trust me 
if you knew what i had planned for us
you wouldn’t say that
I feel my phone vibrate in my hand, indicating he was now calling me? I hadn’t planned for this. 
“Spencer?” I remark, waiting for his voice on the line. 
“What do you mean?” He says, quickly. I can no longer hear the bustle of the party in the background, so it’s only reasonable to assume he’s moved somewhere quieter. Still, I ask. 
“Are you around other people?” I murmur, keeping my voice low. 
“No. Alone. What did you mean by your last message?” He repeats, quickly. 
There’s my in. I respond, feigning an unmistakable innocence in my voice. “Mind if I show you?” 
“Show me?” The confusion in his voice is palpable. 
“Show you.” I reply, more definitively.  “Check your messages.” 
I bring my phone away from my ear, electing to send the first picture I saw in my camera roll,  which prominently featured my breasts- a feature of mine I knew Spencer was quite interested in. I return to the call, my heart pounding wildly. 
“Did you see?” I ask, hesitantly, when all I can hear is his breathing on the other line. 
The response is a choked out, breathy mess of a sentence. “Yeah- I did. Jesus.” 
“Want more?” I murmur, biting my lip as the realization dawned on me that this possibly had a chance of working. 
There’s a delay in his words on the line, before I finally hear:
“Yes. God, yes.” 
I grin ear-to-ear, beginning to send an assortment of pictures I’d taken previously in the day. Knowing this was having an effect on him, that somewhere in this party Spencer was sitting alone, his gaze trained on his phone intently, did something to me. He was behaving this way because of my body, because of what I could do to him. 
It was hard not to get wet at the thought. 
“You look so good.” He breathes out, and the desire in his voice is unmistakable. 
“Yeah?” I mumble to the speaker. “You think so?” 
“Mhm.” He murmurs. “You’re wearing this right now?” He asks, seemingly needing that confirmation at this moment.  
“In all its glory.” I try not to giggle before murmuring teasingly, “What, you wanna see?” 
“Where are you?” He asks, suddenly seeming very determined. I can hear the shuffling on the other line, indicating he was now starting to move from where he was currently situated. He was completely, and utterly serious about this. 
“Bathroom, on the left corridor of the entrance.” I say, feeling exhilarated at the thought of him meeting me here. This was happening. 
Finally. 
“Stay.” He replies, and the call cuts. 
There’s an impatient itch that creeps up on me during the two-minute wait for him, before I hear a solid knock on the door, and my name being whispered through the door, belonging to a voice I’d grown so accustomed to and fond of. 
My fingers undo the lock, opening it just enough so that he could squeeze through without drawing too much attention to ourselves right now. 
And as soon as he’s managed in, he’s practically on me, devouring me with a kiss with a passion I’d never felt from him before. My hands go to wrap around his neck, pressing our bodies flush against each other, every ragged breath of his shooting directly to my core, which was now throbbing with need. 
“Fuck. Missed this so much.” He breathes out, gasping for air in between our kisses. I couldn’t so much as get a whimper out, before he’d dive right in again. It’s like he wanted to eat me alive. 
And I’d let him. 
I moan softly into his mouth, starved for more contact between us. It’s as if he can read my mind, because in an instant,  he guides us from the center of the bathroom, towards a wall, slotting his thigh between my legs. He takes a momentary break from ravishing me with his lips, now adopting a slower, more sensual pace as he works down my neck, each soft kiss leaving me craving him even more.  
His hands drift down to my hips, keeping me pinned against the wall as he murmured soft praises. My legs felt wobbly, absolutely taken aback by how quickly I could go weak for this man. 
“You like this, mm?” He mumbles, letting his teeth nip over the lobe of my ear, before switching to a more neglected side of my neck. “Like me that much, mm?” 
I don’t care about the cockiness in his tone. I don’t care how smug I render him. I just need him to continue this, for as long as I can have him. 
“Yes.” I breathe out, my voice higher-pitched than it normally would be. “God. Love this so much.” 
There’s a flash of hesitance from him, as he pulls his face away from my neck, staring at my eyes with his own. I can’t dwell on the pause, because for once, I’m finally seeing him. His hair was absolutely ruined, sticking up wildly in different directions. His cheeks were a light pink, serving to make his features even prettier and doe-like than before. But what got me were his eyes. His pupils were blown out, the normal honey-hazel I’d seen on a daily basis replaced with an absolute abyss of black. The darkness served to cause a surge within me, practically launching forward to meet his lips with mine. 
There are no words required for what happens next, as I feel his hand creep up my back, pulling me away from the wall and towards the closest surface, which happened to be the sink. He guides me to bend over, and I do so with no resistance.
 He could have me, whichever way he wanted, whenever he wanted. All I needed was his touch. 
I can feel him crouch to his knees, slowly reaching under my dress to hook his fingers around my panties, slowly pulling them down. I can feel a string of my arousal clinging to the fabric, and it seems Spencer can too, because he practically moans as he drags the soiled piece of lingerie down my thighs. I step out of them quickly, and turn my head back, fast enough to see him stuff the proof of our debauchery down his suit pocket. 
“Eyes ahead.” He whispers, leaning down close to my ear to nip at the sensitive flesh again. 
“Okay.” I murmur, slipping into a more submissive version of myself that he seemed to bring out in me. There’s a sense of relaxation and excitement all at the same time, and I’m absolutely wracked with lust for him. 
His fingers stroke my clit for a moment, applying pressure in just the right way. The movements are practiced, precise and guaranteed to hurl me off the edge if he continues this way. 
“You’re soaked, sweetheart.” He murmurs, almost amazed,  letting his fingers slip away. “All this for me?” 
I can barely respond, whimpering and nodding. “Yes. Please- Spencer.” I beg, needily. 
“I know, I know.” He replies, and I can hear how pleased he is. There’s a certain delight he derives from my submission, and while in any other circumstance, the smugness he displays would turn me off, right now it only served to further my hunger. 
I can feel him start to work on his belt, sliding the coarse material of his dress pants just enough, so that his cock could spring free. I can’t see it, but I can feel it, his tip sliding through my folds, and I clench at the thought of him finally being inside of me. 
Just when I believed his teasing to be done, there’s a knock at the door, and we both freeze. Spencer swallows, and quickly raises his voice. “Occupied!” 
There’s silence, and that previous sense of lust and content drifts back into our bodies, Spencer’s fingers trace up to my face, and he lets his finger slip into my mouth. I can taste my arousal on his fingers, and there’s a genuine struggle on my end to stay upright. How could I, when the man behind me rendered me so indisposed? 
He draws his fingers out of my mouth. “Good girl.” He whispers.
It seems the universe has other plans though, because yet again- a knock sounds at the door. I can hear Spencer’s groan, and watch through the mirror as he attempts to come up with a response that would give us the seclusion we required. 
My patience however, had worn thin. His cock was right there, and I’d be damned if I was forced to wait any longer. I turn my head towards the door, complacency and submission gone from my voice. 
“Do you mind? I’m trying to fuck him in here!” I say, snarking out the words. 
There’s a silence, and a murmur of mortification on the other side of the door. Footsteps. And then at last, silence. 
Spencer quickly leans down to kiss my cheek, mumbling out an “I love you.” 
Before I can even comprehend the words, he’s guiding himself into me, sliding his cock through my walls, and I have to bite my lip to keep a scream in. He feels so fucking good inside of me, stretching me out in ways no man ever could. I can feel the underside of his cock hitting that spongy spot deep inside of me, and my breathing turns rapid in mere seconds. 
“There we go, relax for me baby, yeah?” He mumbles. “Nice and slow.” 
I moan out my affirmative, gripping onto the sink as I let my jaw drop, eyes squeezing in absolute ecstasy. “So good for me.” He murmurs. “So warm and wet, Jesus.” 
And with that, he starts a pace that works for both of us. It’s hard and fast, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. The feel of his cock gliding through my puffy walls is intoxicating, and I can only wonder how I went so long without feeling it. 
It seems Spencer’s having similar  thoughts, because through my moans and his occasional groans, I can feel his grip on my hips get more bruising by the second, marking me as his own. I can hear occasional fragments of words through his noises. 
“Never letting you go. Oh fuck. Fuck.” He mumbles, and despite the overwhelming amount of arousal shooting through me, my heart swells. 
“Me too.” I whimper out, gripping the sink even harder. I can feel my wetness seeping all around us, splashing against my thighs with every movement he drives into me. “Need you so badly.” 
“Rub your clit for me.” He demands, whispering out the words. “Need to see you come on my cock first, pretty girl.” The words are strained, and I can tell he’s doing everything to keep from spilling inside of me prematurely. 
There’s no reason to temporize, and my fingers make their way down to the sensitive bundle of nerves, and the effect is almost immediate. It takes roughly a minute of my incessant rubbing and the feel of him inside me before I’m coming with a soft shout, growing limp against the sink as my muscles twitch and fill me with a deep sense of relief and satisfaction. 
Spencer isn’t far behind me, humping into me a few more times before coming inside of me, the release signified with a loud moan and a sense of warmth flooding my deepest point. He slumps against my back, pressing a few, soft kisses to my neck. 
As we both come down from our highs, I recall the words Spencer mumbled in my ear previously. I let out a self-satisfied giggle, which Spencer smiles at. 
“Mm. What’s that about?” He murmurs. 
“You love me?” I ask, softly. 
A pause. 
“A little.” He responds, voice equally as soft. 
“Is that why you stopped having sex with me?” I mumble out, gently. 
He presses another kiss to the nape of my neck. “Mhm. Please don’t be mad.” 
I let out a soft chuckle. “Not mad. The opposite, really.” 
He pulls me up, causing us both to look at each other. “You feel the same way?” 
I nod, biting my lip. “We could try this out, I think. I want to, Spencer.” 
I stop, and decide I do need to tease him a bit, especially after the sex-less agony he put me through for a month. 
“Though, I do recall someone telling me too much of a good thing can go bad..” 
His lips part in confusion, before he picks up the teasing nature of my words and leans in for a soft, simple kiss. He keeps his forehead on mind, his eyes staring into mine with a gentle reverence. 
“Let’s indulge just this once.” 
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holy shit has it been a long time since i've written a fic!! i'm so sorry?! i've been dealing with life and other assorted things and writing sort of took a backseat in that period of time <3 i hope this was okay. as usual any feedback, likes, comments, reblogs are so so greatly appreciated. i love writing for spencer, and i hope you guys like that writing too <3 i'm sorry that the two previous fics i promised seem to be delayed, i swear i'm gonna write those next, but inspiration sort of just struck on my end f or this, and i hope it was good <3 but yeah!! thank you so much for reading and interacting with this in any way you choose!! i appreciate it greatly!!
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goldweaverr · 1 month ago
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Hi! I just saw your first post about our beloved Kremnos prince, Mydei, and I absolutely love it! ❤️ You captured his character so beautifully, especially his views on love and romance. I adore how meticulous and accurate you were in portraying him—I completely see him that way too! Our prince carries the heavy burden of his family's royal lineage and the countless people who rely on him in the name of Kremnos. This perfectly explains his inexperience with love and romance—he simply has no time or hasn't been able to find someone to share such a connection with. I absolutely love how you portrayed his behavior when he finally discovers someone he can truly open his soul to! It’s so beautifully done! ❤️ I wonder—have you ever thought about Mydei letting his lover take the lead in bed? Whether it’s because of his inexperience or his eagerness to explore, the idea is so captivating. I love imagining Mydei finally letting go, allowing himself to be passionately ravished as he releases all the pent-up stress and burdens he’s carried for so long. It feels so fitting for his character—a vulnerable yet liberating moment where he can truly surrender and experience love in its rawest form. ദ്ദി(。•̀ ,<)~✩‧₊
OH MY !! I wasn't expecting such a lovely response at all, I'm so flustered, thank you so so much !!! I'm glad we share an opinion and I'm so glad you like how I portrayed him !!! I was hoping people would see The Vision™ so I'm beyond happy to know that not only has it reached, but others see it too ~! I'm very overwhelmed with the positive responses, and I'm more than happy to be sharing a space with so many fellow Mydei fans!! I finished the quest today and haven't been okay about him since, I hope he doesn't get sidelined too much as the story progresses and more characters get introduced because I sincerely love him so, so much <3
Again, thank you for your kind words!! They mean so much to me!!
And as for that lovely idea... muehehe let's get to it then ! (。•̀ᴗ-)✧ I hope I can do it justice !
— NSFW! MDNI! No spoilers!
Love. In it's rawest form.
He knew he could let you take control. All your midnight rendezvous so far had him taking the lead. It just simply felt natural to be the one to drop you on your back — hand behind your head to soften your impact against the already soft mattress — and pleasure you until you can't take any more. Until all you can do is scream his name endlessly. Until you forget there were Titans out there to worship instead of him. That was his role towards you, it felt only natural. He didn't mind it one bit, he was more than happy with it. Steadied above you by the strength of his arms, staring at the gorgeous sight of you unraveling underneath him, your expressions, the eye contact, your nails on his back. It was divine.
Sometimes, you two would spice it up a bit by making slight changes. Trying a few new positions. You were both still so new to this, taking it really slow to remain comfortable. Yet so eager to explore more of each other, of love, and sex, intimacy. Although he understands there's no shame in having discussions about these things beforehand, it still felt easier for him to learn through action. If something bothered either of you, neither would hesitate to express it, and everything halts. He's not an animal. He understands boundaries, limits, preferences, comfort.. he doesn't shy away from expressing his own, and wants you to always be equally as comfortable. Love is not meant to be uncomfortable.
For example, one thing Mydei found he doesn't like is when you're on all fours and he's taking you from behind.
The position felt... Uncomfortable to him in a strange way. He found it felt a bit degrading to you, and it prevented him from seeing your face and expressions. Which upset him when he came to realize that not staring at your beautiful face while he's making love to you takes away so much of the intimacy that brings him comfort during these activities. He loves watching your reactions. He even likes talking to you through it. Lacking that made him feel vulnerable in a way. So after you were done, he told you how he felt, and that was the last time the position was used. Simple as that.
You had both been thinking about bringing it up, but wondering how to approach it.
He might not look like it, but when it came to this newfound love, he was so no less eager to discover everything that came with it. He wanted to know everything about you and show you everything about him. He wanted to know how to kiss you in the right ways, how to hold you with a grip that's balanced between protective and loving, how to be there for you in a way that doesn't suffocate you, where on your body to put his lips so that he drives you insane, what pace of thrusts makes you see stars in the glory of Kephale's morning...
And through it, he discovers himself. He's learning along with you. He doesn't know much about these parts of who he is, he's endlessly grateful you've given him this opportunity to learn and get to know himself more. And his recent thought is that it might be nice if sometime, you were to get on top of him and ravish him the way he usually does to you.
But, that can't be right? He can't ask you to do that, can he? Is he allowed to want this? Shouldn't it be his job to pleasure you and take care of you? It might be shameful if he wanted to just sit back and let you do all the work...
You, on the other hand, were thinking about it endlessly. Wanting to watch him relax, watch him unwind. Wanting to be the one giving him pleasure for once, he deserves it. He takes so much care of you, always putting you above himself, in every aspect. Even outside of your relationship, he's always putting others first. Prioritizing Phainon's safety over his own, even the two outsiders above himself. Putting the city of Okhema and it's citizens safety first, putting the wants of his people above his own... He's never given enough credit for how much of himself he sacrifices everyday for others, because they view him as too distant, too rough, too cold... His actions speak louder than his words, and his actions are constantly putting himself in harm's way if it meant someone else would be safe.
So, for once, he deserves to turn his mind off. Turn off his senses and his desire to please. To just enjoy being taken care of, being loved, being thanked for everything.
So when midnight came around (or the hour people got used to being midnight, not like the endless sunlight indicated much for them) and you two found yourself tangled up in the usual dance that happens so often, you decided it's now or never. As Mydei began to slowly guide you towards the mattress, lips never once leaving yours, you turned your position around an dropped him down instead. The sudden movement broke the kiss and left him with an expression of shock on his face, staring at you questioning what just happened. You smile at him and gently push him up a bit more, letting him get entirely comfortable on the bed. He follows your lead slowly, unsure where this is going, but curious to see what you're up to. Your expression remained calm, a smile that looks almost like a smirk, mischief and adoration in your eyes as you stared into his fiery gold ones. "let me take care of you" you broke the silence by saying. His mouth opened slightly, as if to answer, before it closed again after not finding the right words. His eyebrows furrow in confusion as he doesn't break eye contact, "take care of me?" He asks, tone full of uncertainty. You nod, "you're always taking the lead. In battle, in bed.. why don't you just let me thank you this time, hm?" Your voice came out soft and gentle as you began to straddle him, hands pushing him down slightly so he can be fully relaxed into the comfortable bed and he follows your every silent order as you get yourself comfortable on top of him. His lap, your throne.
This is what he's been thinking of. He should be happy. But he finds himself feeling a bit guilty, like he doesn't deserve it, like this isn't fair to you, and that prevents him from relaxing entirely. The worry on his expression was clear to you, you understood each other through the tiniest of microexpressions, and you could tell what he was thinking. "You're worth everything" is all what you say in response to soothe your worries, deciding to follow in his example and let your actions speak louder than your words.
You pressed your lips in kiss gently, moving against his in a soft rhythm that felt too innocent considering the moment blooming between the two of you. His hand came up to grip the back of your head carefully, letting you do what you want and following along as best he can. Your hand on the other end got to working off the armor on his body, shedding away the last piece of protection that separates his bare body from you, thinking to yourself how grateful you are that he trusts you to this extent, to allow himself to be this vulnerable and unprotected in your presence. His hands shift as they help you take off his clothing, the sound of metal hitting the ground resonating as more and more pieces are thrown off to the floor carelessly until he was naked. Although it was all about him tonight, you still pulled away to strip yourself as well, not wanting him to feel an imbalance in the dynamic between the two of you. As soon as you were naked, he leaned in to kiss you again but you dodged his lips with a playfully chuckle, he lets out a sulking scoff in response.
You begin to kiss his jaw, running your tongue over the spot you knew he liked, before you slowly went down to his neck. Your arms wrapped around his waist to drag your chest flush against his, wanting to feel him as close as you can as your lips continued to explore his neck, as perfectly sculpted as everything else about him is.
Marks left shamelessly decorating his neck, paying no mind to how easily they can be seen through the little clothing he wears. Your hands and mouth worked in tandem to assure his pleasure, one hand busying itself rubbing his length up and down slowly, another playing with his chest, as your mouth kept leaving kisses and bites and hickeys all over his neck and collarbones, tongue tracing over the red marks adorning his torso. His breathing heavy, his chest heaving up and down quickly, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise them, shameless moans and grunts and groans coming from above you. Sneaking a peek over to look at him, his eyebrows are pressed together tightly in pleasure as his eyes are closed shut, head leaning back, sweat dripping down his forehead.. a divine sight. One that motivated you to work even harder to pleasure him. Your mouth left his neck and went down to take a nipple in your mouth, earning you a harsh jolt of his entire body that made you yelp. "Sorry.." he apologizes sheepishly, face red as his hands try to distract you by roaming all over your body. You suppress a chuckle and plant a quick smooch on his lips to tease him, and he lets out a quiet groan as he rolls his eyes at you. You get back to what you were doing, sucking his nipple the way he does to yours, hand playing with the other way, all while your other hand never left his length, giving him just enough friction to stay excited, never enough to cum.
Eventually you let go of his chest and pull back for a minute to admire your work so far, admire how he already looks spent despite you barely being halfway through your mission. He'll complain and scold you for all the marks left across his torso tomorrow morning, but you'll deal with that problem later, currently you feel proud of yourself. Your gaze moves over to the vein on his bicep and your nail drags against it softly, idly, as you consider your next move. He stares at you wordlessly, anticipating what's next. He might not be admitting it through words, but he is entirely enjoying this. He doesn't understand why he'd hear some men complain about feeling their pride sting if they ever let their partners take the lead, if anything, Mydei has never felt more like a king than he does in this moment, all the attention on him as he's practically being worshipped. He feels so powerful, but most importantly, so loved.
You make eye contact with him again, a gentle expression as the friction between your gazes could practically be seen as sparks of electricity. "I love you" he says, breaking the silence but igniting that flickering flame that needed a fuse. You smile, not responding, but instead immediately pushing yourself down to the ground to kneel in front of him, preferring to answer him with more service. He props himself up on his elbows to keep watching you intently, as you wrap your arm around his length again, and bring your lips to it. He's used to gripping your hair when you go down on him, guiding you to the pace he prefers, but this time when he grips he makes no other moves, trusting to let you take the lead entirely how you want to. You won't deny him his pleasure after all, it's you.
At times he has the most random thoughts. Like if the walls are actually thinner than he thinks. Like if anyone on the other end can hear the mighty crown prince moaning out his partner's name. Like if Aglaea's golden threads can even pick stuff like this up, oh no ....
But a jolt of pleasure brings his thoughts back to reality as he redirects his attention back to you.
He isn't ashamed of what he has with you. He's afraid of where it might take him. Of how much he's willing to do for you. He knows every minute spent with you indulging in romance and desires is playing with fire while he's made of gasoline. And he'll burn down to ashes in his most graceless moments when he's bare under your gaze that burns gold into his skin, liquifying his flames into a puddle of adoration for you.
While maintaining eye contact with you, a silent exchange of vulnerability, it spoke an endless capacity. An unspoken sentence of 'Y𝘰𝘶 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘦𝘹𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘱𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘦' ringing loudly in your ears. '𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘢𝘣𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘢𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴'.
You brought out the best out of each other, but simultaneously the ugliest human parts as well. Brought out the honesty he's hid from others and himself, brought out the desires he's kept ignored without caring about the hole they were digging in his soul. Gnawing away at his very being and turning him hollow. Brought out the love he was afraid to ever confront. But he's here now, confronting it and ruling over it's court. And tonight is the summit of Mydei's seemingly pathetic life. The two of you are wrapped up in a galaxy of your sins; summed down to nothing but a constellation of the most raw human desires. Who were the titans to demand worship when they knew nothing of what true religion was. This was a ritual. An exchange of souls. It meant more to Mydei than anything else has. This was raw, this was love. He could live in a reel of this night replaying endlessly forever.
The rest of this cursed world could matter later, to hell with every prophecy that demands his presence, nothing felt more worth experiencing in this moment than your mouth on him and your heat surrounding him and your praises spilling against him and your touch killing him and bringing him to life a thousand times over in this bed.
This was love in it's rawest form, and they can call Phainon the chosen one all they want, but Mydei feels like he's received the greatest blessings this universe has to offer him when he made eye contact with you the first time, and if the black tide was to eventually swallow even the last standing holy city, then to hell with all of it if you'd still be by his side.
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sincerelyneo · 11 months ago
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omg hello! i missed you so much!!! 💖 would you consider reposting arcade again?? it was legit the best thing i’ve ever read omg i was so sad when i couldnt find it anymore
its fine if you cant tho!! im glad youre backkkk💖💖💖
ofc i can, i’m glad you liked it <3
arcade | p.js
“i’m out of control, full power up”
💿now playing: arcade by nct dream
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❯ summary: Jisung’s been nothing but busy lately, so when you hear he got the weekend of your anniversary off, you can’t help but plan something to spend time with him. Expect, the only thing jisung wants after his busy month is you — and he’s not gonna let your silly arcade date get in the way of that.
❯ pairings: jisung x fem!reader
❯ genre: established relationship, smut, fluffish.
❯ words: 3.5k
❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, smut, fingering, exhibitionism, reader uses she/her pronouns, use of the name baby, jisung takes pictures whilst fingering reader in a photobooth idk???
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"You brought us to an arcade for our three year anniversary?"
You look over to Jisung standing by your side as the pair of you stood in front of the arcade entryway with the giant neon sign above your heads.
"Yeah, surprise - who doesn't love a date night with pizza and an arcade?" You grin, trying to hide the look of nervousness fighting to show once you notice his frown.
“Baby,” he groans, whiny, “I thought we were gonna go home after the pizza.”
You may have lied to him about that.
When you told Jisung about tonight’s date, he originally objected. He wanted to have a chilled night in with just the two of you — alone. Something he hadn’t had for the past four weeks he’d been strung up at work. Yet, you insisted that the two of you celebrated your three year anniversary just like you had done for your first and second.
So instead, the two of you came up with a compromise: head to your favourite pizza place, then come home and watch a movie snuggled together on the couch. In Jisung’s mind ‘watch a movie’ was code for letting his hands roam all over your body whilst he watched you whither and squirm, but he figured it was best to not discuss the minute details.
But don’t get him wrong. Just because he wanted to have a quiet night in didn't mean he hasn’t missed you — because oh he has. He’s only bothered the rest of the dreamies with his annual ‘I miss her’ speech every other hour.
And whilst typically Jisung loved to spend every passing minute of the day with you; right now, all he could think about was how much he wanted to be balls deep in the cunt he’d missed so much — not spending his time in some arcade.
"I haven't been inside one of these since I was a little kid," you tell him. “Please Sungie, just for an hour.” You begin tugging on his hands.
“I don’t know, Y/N. Aren’t we a bit too old to be playing in the arcade?” he rubs the back of his neck sheepishly.
“Pretty please!”
You hope the small flutter in your eyelashes is enough to win over the hesitant man. And you know it will because he’s told you several times not to give him those signature doe eyes, because he can’t ever bring himself to say no to them.
"Fine."
He grasps your hand, threading your fingers together as he starts to lead the two of you inside. You're instantly greeted with the loud electronic sound effects from the various games, along with the random music playing inside.
There's lights flashing everywhere, and you notice a bunch of people sitting at the bar and in booths near the front of the arcade, along with a bunch wandering around all of the games.
Jisung looks sideways before gesturing his head to the row of retro games, "what do you wanna play?" He asks.
“You can pick first, because I’m such a good girlfriend.”
He can’t help but smile at you — because he knows you're right.
“How about we play some pinball?
"I take it back," you say with a pointed look, "I’ve seen you play that with Chenle and I’m definitely gonna lose.”
“Too late, you’ve already given me the power,” he shrugs and pulls your arm over to where the game is situated.
“Ugh, Jisung. There’s no point, I already know I’m gonna lose,” you try to protest.
“Stop complaining,” he grasps your hips to turn you around to face the pinball machine then comes to stand behind you.
He takes your hands and places them on the buttons either side of the machine in front of you. You feel your cheeks flush when you feel Jisung’s chin rest on your shoulder, as he guides your fingers over the controls and silently coaches you through the game.
You don’t know how he always does it but even here, he's managing to create some form of sexual tension between the two of you at a pinball machine.
“Jisung..” you whisper as he places teasing kisses along your neck.
“Shhh, I’m just trying to help you out,” his lips brush against your neck as he continues hitting the buttons at a constant steady speed. “Besides, I think I’ve found my new favourite way to play pinball tonight."
Eventually, the ball shoots straight down between the two flippers, drawing the game to an end. He’d been doing so well that you wanted to turn around and kiss him but he pressed you harder against the machine, dipping into the crook of your neck to tease your ear.
"You've got no idea how badly I wish I could bend you over this and fuck you right here, right now."
It sent shivers down your whole body as you felt him grin against your skin when he noticed the sharp inhale of air you sucked in at his words.
Jisung knows you're shy, so he’s not surprised that you try to snake away from his grip at his crude remark.
"Look, we got a new high score," he says while he slips his hands from over yours and slides them up your arms. Pretending he didn't just whisper something that dirty. “We make a pretty good team.”
“Yeah ‘cause you did all the work,” you sulk.
You see the red digital writing flashing on the scoreboard, then his arms snake around to link across your lower stomach and pull you firmer against him. To anyone watching you look like a typical couple being affectionate, but the tension makes it feel the furthest thing from innocent.
"You know exactly what you're doing right now, Jisung Park," you huff, trying to control how flustered you feel, "We’re here to play games."
He presses a kiss to your cheek, before murmuring, "I am playing games. And so far I think I'm winning."
As he speaks he lets one of his hands slip down to graze over the front of your crotch, which he swears is an accident when you sternly say his name. But you can’t deny the way the touch made you jolt before he pulls away and steps back. You’d missed his touch — missed being with him like this.
But this was not the place. So you take his hand and turn the two of you to walk off like nothing happened.
The two of you continued to play a handful of arcade games. The classics, retro games, new games — Jisung had even managed to secure you a fluffy teddy bear from the claw game after you mentioned it being ‘impossible’.
You’d been taking it in turns to choose a game each, but when you mentioned the arcade photo booth, your boyfriend had started to get apprehensive.
After some of your amazing buttering up skills with puppy dog eyes, he agreed and he pulled the curtain back for you to get inside, then closes the door on the booth.
He sat down first on the small seat, and when you went to sit next to him he grabbed your waist and pulled you down onto his lap instead. He takes some coins from his pocket and starts putting them in the slot.
You try to get off his lap to sit beside him before the timer starts but he doesn’t let you.
“Just look at the camera and smile."
Once you hear the timer counting down the two of you start posing. But just before the last beep sounds, you get the idea to grab hold of Jisung’s face and let your lips mush against his cheek causing him to scrunch his nose up.
"That’s not fair," he says the second he hears the beeping start again.You stick your tongue out at him and his eyes narrow. “Fine, if that’s the game we’re playing.”
You both look back at the camera and offer smiles, kisses and peace signs. But at the last beep, Jisung gets the idea to move both of his hands to cup over your chest, groping your boobs.
Your mouth falls open as you gasp in shock while Jisung starts laughing.
You try to pull his hands away, "Okay fine, point taken mister grabby hands."
Jisung is practically giggling to himself, whilst you wait for the timer to start again.
“Alright alright, we'll take a serious one now.” He says, placing his chin on your shoulder, as you both look at the camera.
But once again, as the third beeping starts he quickly says, “Do you think people would notice if I made you cum while we're in here?"
Your body stiffens in shock as the picture is taken. Jisung is bursting with laughter and you're taken aback.
Jisung likes sex. He loves sex in fact — especially with you. But he never does this. Sure he teases you when you're out and about — how could he not when you’re so beautiful and perfect for him. But he’s never insinuated doing something so sexual in public like this before.
But here the two of you are. Waiting for the timer to start again, but this time you’re anticipating the shit he was going to pull when the final beep comes — and he does not disappoint. Because his hands slide up your legs, dipping into your inner thighs and squeezing them.
"Jisung," you warn him, "behave yourself."
The beeping starts again, but Jisung doesn't move his hands, and starts to massage his fingers higher.
When the last tick happens, he moves his face to press a kiss to your jaw, and you feel his breath hitting your skin from his nose.
He starts to inch your legs a bit further apart to let his thumbs graze over the crease where your thighs meet your pelvis.
“Ive missed you so fucking much baby,” he whines. “I need you so bad.”
“Jisung not here,” you sigh as his hands start working to warm up your skin.
“Why not? Wouldn’t you like the thought of me getting you off in here? Trying not to get caught?"
If his face wasn't so close to yours you wouldn't be able to hear him over the loud music in the arcade and how low his voice has gotten.
You give him a confused frown, thinking he surely can't be fucking serious but when you do he takes the opportunity to press his lips against you, kissing you while the camera snaps the last picture.
Your stomach is knotting along with your heart beating faster and you feel that familiar heat between your legs but you’d never tell him that — and he’d never tell you that he knows you keep it from him.
"Would you?" He asks again when he breaks the kiss.
You look at him like he's lost his mind. "You're joking right?" You can't be serious - Jisung people get their pictures taken in here, someone could walk in, you can't-"
He makes your words stop and your breath hitch in your throat as he moves his hand up under your skirt and cups his hand between your legs.
"That's not what I asked you," he says letting his eyes trace over your face, then leans closer, "Would you enjoy it?"
“Jisung, this is so unlike you, are you even hearing what you’re asking me?”
He moves his leg a bit and wedges his heel against the edge of the door so it can't be pulled open, "I know exactly what I’m asking you, so answer me."
"We’re supposed to be taking pictures, Sung,” you try changing the subject, and ignore the pressure of his hand pressed against you.
"Oh god we will," he says like it should be obvious.
And now you’re looking even more caught off guard.
“I'd fucking kill to have some pictures of you getting off. Have them to look at them whenever I’m needy and miss you.”
Jisung starts to massage the heel of his palm very slowly against you, adding more pressure over your underwear as you try to squeeze your legs closed but he holds them with his other hand to keep them apart.
"We can't-" it takes very fibre in your body to attempt to protest this, but you easily allow him to cut you off.
"Yes we fucking can," he has that sly look on his face, "But if you don't want to, we won't. It's up to you. Should I stop?"
You exhale a weak breath as he replaces the heel of his palm with his fingers dancing over your underwear, massaging slow circles that make your hips shift.
"Won’t people think it's weird if we're in here too long." you fumble over your words which makes Jisung smile while he bites on his lip.
"Don't worry I'll be quick," he says knowing you’re only making excuses instead of admitting what you really want.
Your eyes drift closed as you sigh, feeling his fingers move against you to create a friction that's only making the throb between your legs worsen. You have absolutely no common sense when it comes to this man and his fucking fingers.
"Should I stop?" He repeats in a low voice, moving his mouth to start to kiss along your jaw.
As usual with him, your functioning brain checks out while your subconscious takes over and you shake your head feeling your breathing start to go shallow.
"You want me to make you cum, yeah? Is that right baby?" His words are slightly muffled as he moves his free hand from your inner thigh and brushes your hair back over your shoulder so he can move his mouth to your neck, "I need words baby."
You should be rational and tell him to stop. But you don't. You wouldn’t dare. You didn’t want him to. So instead you say what you do want, and breathe out a quiet "yes."
Jisung’s own breathing is getting heavier, and the tension in this small enclosed space feels like it's compressing both of you closer together. When he hears your approval, his hand between your legs bunches up the front of your skirt. When he slips it up he snakes his hand over your stomach to push down into your underwear.
A faint groan echoes in Jisung’s throat the second his fingers feel your bare skin, exploring around your underwear to feel the slickness there.
"You’ve made a mess. Missed me this much, huh?” his voice is low, while he drags his warm lips up your neck.
You only manage to nod your head, your brain focused on squirming your hips to find some kind of friction again. He finally rests the pads of his fingers against your throbbing clit, starting to tease circles that force a quiet whimper out of you. Your eyes are still closed as excitement and neediness flood your nerves.
For doing something that should be wrong, it feels so damn right, and it's all you can think of. Feeling him is all you can think about.
"You sure I can take some pictures?" He checks, keeping his movements steady as your hips start to circle against his hand,
You don't respond at first—you can’t—too caught up in how this is feeling, and when he dips his fingers down to your pussy to collect more arousal on his fingers before moving back to your clit and applying more pressure, your head falls forward as you pant out a strained, "You - fuck, yes, you can."
He chuckles hearing how fucked out you are for him, and he’s only just started. But it’s when you hold onto the thigh he’s been using to pry your legs open that his eyes darken with need.
He keeps his fingers moving while he manages to get some coins he had in his pocket, reaching forward to put them into the coin slot, then pressing the button to start the timer.
When he relaxes back he applies a firmer pressure, and starts to massage your clit in quicker circles; making your mouth drop open with a gasped moan. You can barely hear the beep for the picture anymore, everything around you turning blurry, and all you can hear is your heart beat mixed your heavy breathing.
"That's it baby," he coos, with a gravel to his voice from the tension in it, "God I wish I could fuck you right now. I’ve been dying for it.”
Your skin is burning up, and all you can manage in response is the pants from your open mouth, desperately trying to keep yourself quiet.
You start to grind yourself against him as his fingers work, and feel the hard bulge forming in his pants underneath your ass.
He wasn't kidding when he said he'd be quick, he's already building the pressure in your lower belly, making your stomach muscles tighten, while he moves his fingers in the exact way he knows you love it.
That knot in your lower half tightens, and your legs start to tremble as a louder moan you can't stop comes out of your mouth.
"Fuck—Jisung," you whimper, with your chest starting to heave with rapid uneven breaths.
He only quickens his fingers driving with determination and speed, making sure to keep repeating the same movements that are getting the best reactions from you and when your head falls back as you moan again; his free hand comes up to cover your mouth.
"Shhhh—quiet, remember?" He hushes against your ear, groaning at the feeling of you grinding against him, "I know you wanna cum baby, but there’s no way I’m letting anyone else hear how you sound for me.”
All you can manage is a muffled "mhm" against his hand as your eyes squeeze tighter. That familiar sensation starts to ripple from your centre down your legs and into the rest of your limbs.
The orgasm is speeding towards you, faster than anticipated causing your back to arch up as your hips writhe. Your mind is foggy only able to make out quiet whispers of encouragement coming from Jisung.
As the release ripples through your body and your moans are muted against his hand, Jisung groans again, feeling you shake on top of him. He can’t help but snap his hand away to grasp at your jaw to turn your face and kiss you hard while you ride through your climax.
The kiss is mostly open lips grazing against each other, or trying to connect in messy motions with both of your laboured breathing mixing together. His fingers only pause when you try to pull yourself away from them.
Once your eyes drift open to see Jisung’s, the look in them makes you want to squeeze your legs together again if you could move them currently.
Jisung brings his hand up, and grazes his pointer and middle finger he just used to send your body into a frenzy against your lower lip as a silent request for you to open your mouth. You don’t deny it, taking them into your mouth to taste yourself.
“Fucking hell,” his eyes dart back and forth from your eyes to your mouth. His head rolls back against the wall behind you and he whines in the quiet, "God fucking help me."
Your body is still buzzing, floating down dazed from the high it was on, and you watch Jisung bite down on his lower lip as his brows knit tight together, as his hips shift beneath you.
"Everything okay, Sungie?" It’s the only thing your mushed brain can think of saying as you look down at his strained pants.
"Fuck no," he mumbles, looking like he's trying to compose himself, "But it’s my own fault. I suggested we do this. I’ll deal with myself later.”
"Later?" You ask.
Jisung lifts his head back up, leaning forward to press a kiss to your cheek as he rubs his palm up and down your thigh, "Yeah, later. When we get home and we watch that movie you promised me.”
He thinks you don’t know that he uses the movie thing as a code to fuck you — but you do know — and that’s why you’ve never protested when he puts on another one of those Harry Potter movies he loves.
"You sure you'll be able to wait that long?"
Jisung’s lips lift up at the corners, "I’ve waited weeks for this, I’m sure I can manage a couple more hours.”
He hugs you against him with his arms around your stomach, and back against his firm chest.
"But then again,” he begins “Now I have the memory of how fucking hot watching you get off in here was. That makes waiting like some kind of sick torture to me."
You let out a weak laugh, feeling your cheeks flush more than they already were, "I still can't believe we just did this."
"I can, and there's pictures to prove it," he smiles, pulling the strip of three black and white photos from the dispenser.
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jsmainblog · 1 month ago
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nsfw alphabet- spencer reid .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚
requests are always open <3
find the template i used (here)!!
❤️‍🔥 - smut
warnings: talk of nsfw topics, mentions of 18+ activities, mentions of sex toys, cum, postions, kinks, semi public sex, description of body parts.
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A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
King of aftercare!! Spencer's quite a sweet guy so afterwards he'll make sure you guys cuddle eat and drink and maybe hop in a shower or bath with you!!
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
His favourite body part of himself is probably his hair. he likes how he can change it alot, he also loves getting his hair played with. on his partner i'd say his favourite part of them is probably their eyes because of the emotions they can convey without words.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
Spencer is quite repulsed by cum bc of his germaphobia he finds it gross and sticky so he'd make an effort to clean up the both of you guys quickly. he usually uses condoms so it dosnet get too messy. but without he'd usually cum on ur stomach or back.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Spencer adamantly has admitted for his sexual awakening being princess leia in the third star wars movie. he dosen't t know why but it stirred something within him. hes very embarrassed of it till this day.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
Spencer understands the theory of sex pretty well. but his actual experience? i'd say his mildly experienced. hes done it with a few partners and hooked up a couple of times over the years but it dosnet mean hes the most experienced guy ever. later seasons spencer would be alot more experience then season 1-2 spencer aswell.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
i'm telling you man spencer loves cowgirl!!! he loves u being ontop of him and you having some sort of control over him, it also ensures that your comfortable and can go at your own pace.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Spencer would be rather serious yet would probably ramble off some ramble sex fact about biological factors like hormones etc during it when he gets nervous or flustered.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
I'd say hes reasonably groomed, probably trimmed pretty well and stuff, probably because of his thing about hygiene.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Spencer is the most gentlest, kind person when it comes to this stuff. i dont think he views it so much as a physical release or a way to gain pleasure (obviously its an added bonus), but he likes the feeling that he's as close as he can possibly get to you and that he gets a chance to show how much he loves you.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
I'd say he'd dabble a bit. spencers a bit of a late bloomer and very shy around this kinda stuff so i'd say he'd only do it when he really really needs it or has a partner. he'd probably call you when hes on a case to jack off to you/your voice when he feels lonely.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
not so much of a kink but he loves if u grab him by the tie or his belt. it gets him a bit hot and bothered. he also has a thing about having sex in semi public places.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
spencer obviously likes the bedroom, empty offices, airport bathrooms and the couch.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
again his thing for the freaking grabbing of his tie or belt thing it really gets him going. i also think him seeing his partner being very strong in a way. like pinning down an unsub or something like that.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
spencer would absolutely not do things involving bodily fluids (spitting, pissing etc) he would absolutely hate it/freak out. "do you know how much harmful bacteria is passed doing that? absolutely not."
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
spencer reid is a munch!!!!!! literally everyone thinks this its cannon atp. its like he was born for it and its one of his biggest talents, he loves to give but dosnet mind receiving either.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
spencer i think takes his time hes very slow, very loving very gentle. ik i keep empathising the gentle but whenever i think so spencer reid and sex i just think gentle so 😭
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
I don't think spencer minds a quickie given the right circumstances. for instance if he's about to go on a case he'd do it if u both wanted to. i dont think they'd be a super regular thing tho. just the odd one here or there.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
i think spencer does not take risks. purely bc this man has adreneline in him 24/7. i also think he needs to feel safe above everything else and getting a bit risky may infringe on that.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
he can last quite long. mainly bc he takes his time with you. but i'd say on average he can last anywhere from 45mins to an hour and 30 mins. spencer can defo go for at least 3 rounds once he gets started he's practically insatiable.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
i'd say he'd own a vibrator or two for his partner. he'd been quite shy and hesitant at first but eventually gave into you. (everytime he turns it on he still gets a bit jumpy)
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
i'd think spencer would like to tease a little. he wants to see how much he can work his partner up before caving into their desires. he'd even probably make a little game out of it.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
HES LOUDDD. but not grunting, growling loud. like whiny, whimpering loud. its crazy.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
Spencer and you take turns of choosing music when y'all do it. but sometimes u choose horrible music to annoy him which earns a bit more of a rougher treatment of you.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
yk what they all say its always the skinny ones ;). but honestly hes a bit bigger than average maybe 7-8 inches, its pretty skinny and pale with tinges of pink. like his hands i'd say its pretty veiny. he's always a bit shy about his length and stuff. every girl he does do it with mouth drops once he takes off his pants.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
i actually headcannon spencer as being someone on the asexual spectrum!! i wouldn't say its non existent or barley there but it would be a bit lower than the average mans.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
he stares at you and does all the aftercare stuff but as soon as his head hits that pillow hes out like a freaking light.
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allfortheslay25 · 28 days ago
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Hi!!! I love your blog and was wondering if you have any Milo and Warren hcs?
Spoilers for Milo’s Future
The first cordial conversation these two have actually happens at Eden’s (before it is ruined lol)
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Like I’ve mentioned before, Milo’s goal while being with the Foxes was to improve their teamwork and help them win a game. One of their team bonding things he suggested was clubbing together so he took them to Eden’s since his family has a history there (and he could house them in the Columbia house which he bought from an old Fox when he was 15)
Wymack allowed the team to go out as long as they stayed in doors and didn’t get into too much trouble. Milo was stuck babysitting the real trouble makers and he unfortunately had a rude awakening that the bartender he met back as a kid (Roland) was not as chill as he thought he was
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Warren let the cigarette burn away at the tips of his nails. Christen leaned closer to his knuckles to blow at the cherry end, smirking when he recoiled in disgust.
“You need to smoke it or it’ll die.” Christen said.
Warren stuffed his free hand into the leather confines of his jacket pocket, clenching his fist so hard his scabs split open.
“Disgusting. Let it die.”
Ash stumbled, leaning her weight into Christen as she blew a mouthful of smoke his way. “I’ve been sooooo generous. We’ve been so generous. You don’t want to let your lungs stay a virgin forever, babe, it’s embarrassing.”
The striker had been nothing but a nuisance to Warren since he moved to the states. Intoxicated and naked, she preferred to press his buttons and rob him of his anger management progress. But Ash was scum and Warren found hanging out with someone like her made him feel better about himself, as horrible as it was. He felt indebted to her after knocking her out of last year’s season. Warren looked down at the cigarette between her fingers. It was hard to tell the arm had ever been broken at all.
When her hands reached for his face, he moved his arm up, stopping her in her tracks. Christen pulled them back, far enough that Warren would be forced to take three steps forward if he so much as wished to snap their necks.
“My eyes are up here,” Ash cooed.
Warren glanced away from her long throat and scowled at the two oufs.
“Really, though, how do you expect to manage all that crazy without something to take off the edge? Smoking a cigarette is the least dangerous option we’ve offered you.”
Christen jostled her. “I don’t even know why you bothered asking the retard.”
Warren dug his thumbnail through his pointer finger and clenched his teeth so hard he’d be sure to crack his jaw.
Ash grinned and hip checked Christen. “I like him. Big scary European dog. Woof woof.”
Warren curled his lip. He didn’t know how far intoxicated she was but it couldn’t be as hard as their usual routine. He saw Milo empty their pockets before they left.
Just like that, Warren’s body sagged in content. The image of Milo’s beautiful eyes swirled through his brain like crystal waves at the beach. Sometimes, Warren got jealous of the sun, being that the evidence of its kisses freckled his skin every time he saw him. Warren would not insult God by praying for the man, but he begged his forgiveness every night for he knew who he’d see in his dreams. Such a twisted form of fate to introduce him to someone so addicting. It wasn’t right. Warren was sure you’d have to first taste something for it to control you so, yet here he stood, poisoned with no antidote for heartache. Oh, Warren wanted so deeply it burned. It will burn. The devil smirks at me now.
“Hey!”
Warren startles, his fist coming out of his pocket but then he sees the eye of the sea and stops. Milo was a sight to behold. He’d demanded everyone dress their best for this night out, as if it were a requirement for entry at this so-called ‘Eden’. Warren had allowed Ash to dress him and in turn, he’d lent Christen a few things. But Milo had surely tricked him. The man must be planning Warren’s murder, why else distract him with a flash of his gorgeous and freckled abdomen. So many freckles.
Milo stomped over to the blonde mooncalves. Christen once again pulled them away, far from where the young Minyard-Josten could smell their deceit.
“You two! Get back inside!” He shouted.
Christen and Ash moved faster than Warren thought possible, hiding the cigarette and Ash’s positively large pupils. Milo chased them to the back door of the club, a breathtaking view as the moonlight earned her turn to caress his face in her light. Warren swallowed the lump in his throat or maybe the Lord holds his tongue as punishment for his unfathomable lust.
“Don’t ruin the night for everyone! You both know Coach said to stay indoors!” Milo hisses at their backs.
He huffed, shoulders going down as he muttered something venomous under his breath. Warren’s face flushed at the intrusive idea that Milo ought to shout at him instead. Don’t waste your words on the air or the piss covered concrete. Cuss at me. Spit the poison at me, burn me with your glare. Warren vaguely recognized the heat from the cigarette threatening at the first knuckle of his finger. It wasn’t enough to bring him out of his longing. Milo’s teal coat emphasized the color in his irises, but paled in comparison to the makeup he asked the Captain to frame around his eyes after Barry David called him a slur. Warren had begun to realize Milo lived to spite others. He wore makeup to spite David, sung in the locker rooms to press the men’s buttons, trimmed his hair because Ash said long hair was more attractive on him, and pressed his chest against Warren’s just because he stole the ball from him during scrimmages. And if Warren found more ways to knock over Milo’s stick, just to feel the idea of Milo’s heartbeat against his own—
“Oh, Warren…” Milo noticed him, awkwardly dropping his tensed fists behind him.
Warren was too dumbfounded to speak. He bit his tongue to prevent it from getting him in trouble. Despite what the team thought, he wasn’t slow. English wasn’t easy, he found it hard to form a sentence that wasn’t as vulgar as he learned from the Sharks back in France. They taught him all the bad words first, then worse things so he’d follow along during their threats. But English, Greek, nor French—none of their vocabularies held the words Milo deserved to hear. However, this was his chance was it not? Couldn’t he start fresh? Couldn’t he apologize? He hadn’t ruined it all just yet. Milo isn’t like the rest. He closes the distance with Warren everytime they speak, he stands too close, closer than anyone on the team had the courage to. He could close the distance. He didn’t need Milo to hold him or fall in love with him. Warren was okay watching from the sidelines, listening to his voice was enough. Let me watch as you play exy with the kind of fire that devastates our earth, let me listen to you ramble on about anything. I’ll hang on to every word like clothes on a line or a painting on a wall. Just say yes.
Milo smiled, as if he heard Warren’s thoughts.
“Having fun?” He asked.
Warren bit down harder. He shrugged in lieu of an answer.
Milo glanced down at his cigarette. Warren was about to crush the offending stick until Milo leaned closer, taking a deep breath and giving Warren a soft look. “Sorry,” he said bashfully, “the smell reminds me of simpler times. It’s nice.”
“Do you smoke?” Warren blurted.
Milo paused, maybe not expecting Warren to speak at all.
“No… I can’t. But it’s a nice reminder that things hadn’t always been so bad.” He gives the cigarette one last gentle look before shrugging off the wall. “I’d better go back inside, make sure everyone is safe.”
Warren watched him go, because it’d be cruel to force him to stay. He looked down at the cigarette still holding on between his crooked fingers and brought it to his lips.
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This is what the sketches looked like from three years ago lol
I would’ve added the rest of the scene (I wrote it three years ago) but the post was getting too long. Anyways, unfortunately the night ends when Milo is really put off by Roland (who’s been flirting with him since he found out who he was) so he’s trying to get his foxes to leave. Ashely refuses and is just doing drugs and chatting up some dude. Warren, pent up from the anger Chris and Ash stacked on him all night, went to civilly bring her to the cars. Ash badmouths him and comments on his mothers and his hard on for Milo (which is a joke since no one knows he’s crushing) so Warren snaps and breaks her jaw on the counter of the bar. They’re kicked out of Eden’s and Milo has to get them to the ER
Warren ruined his development with Milo who begins to be cautious around him now, keeping Warren at arms length and worst of all, Warren watched Milo’s hands tremble as he dialed coach on the way there.
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stoutguts · 5 months ago
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Ghoap 💀🧼 relationship dynamic HC (shall we?)
Simon "Ghost" Riley is no scaredy-cat.
The man has been through hell on Earth, survived torture, abuse,—and being buried alive for fuck’s sake. They managed,—even after everyone he loved was taken from him. Has been through countless tense and anxiety inducing situations throughout their military career.
But Ghost has nerves of steel, excellent control over his emotions, and naturally that’s why it’s so damn good at its job.
Though…there is one thing that scares the shit out of them. Soap.
Simon thought he was all big and bad,—intimidating,—until he met John “Soap” MacTavish.
Johnny is only around half its size, yet he manages to be even scarier than Ghost somehow. Which is wild, considering one of them looks like the damn grim reaper with that skull mask of theirs.
Simon may have a reputation for “the guy you don’t wanna mess with”, to the point where people won’t even bother with them.—But Soap’s got more than a few screws loose himself.
New recruits and others will at least approach him,—but with serious caution, and are careful to watch their mouths around him.
His anger is explosive, fitting, for a demolitions expert. A total loose cannon when he wants to to be. Some recruits even refer to him as “the psycho Scot” or "Ghost's guard dog". Titles he takes to with pride.
Johnny’s known for putting people in their place, and with every fight he’s ever gotten into,—he’s always won. Often sending his opponents to medical.
Most of the time though, he just has to look at someone and it scares them shitless. He’s mastered his death glare, and it even sends shivers up Ghost’s spine.
The man’s a total gym rat and health nut, nothing but muscle, and he trains the most of anyone Simon has ever seen. Works out constantly, and loves to get his body moving. He can never simply sit still, and being active actually helps him to clear his head and blow off steam. Always keeping track of his calories, weighing out his portions, and whatnot,—with a pescatarian and vegetarian lifestyle. He’s also a nature lover and tree hugger,—loves to go on hikes or go camping in his spare time. He’s naturally a reigning champ when it comes to hand to hand combat, and is a highly skilled fighter, in fact, he specializes in it. He’s capable of taking out tangos with nothing but his fists alone. He even beats Simon to a pulp on the sparring mats most of the time. (Ghost may like him beating the snot out of him more than they than would like to admit…)
Soap is used for interrogations, (as he also just so happens to be an interrogation expert). He’s morally bankrupt just enough,—to where he’ll do just about anything to get answers out of someone. Whether it involves violence or not.
Simon has seen the sheer extent of the injuries sustained by the poor bastards that were stupid enough to challenge him, that pissed him off, or that he’s extracted information out of—and that was enough for Ghost.
He recalls that one time he directly witnessed Johnny, feigning calmness, take a recruit’s hand in his, then proceed to snap the guy’s thumb clean in half in one fluid motion. (The recruit had decided to wolf whistle at him when he was walking over to Ghost,—after their duties had wrapped up regarding training the newbies).
Simon is a smart man, and knows when to pick his battles. Soap being the battle he most certainly knows NOT to pick.
Although Johnny is more lenient with Ghost than other people, and lets them get away more,—Simon’ll be damned if it ends up on the receiving end of Soap’s wrath.
I really like the idea of Soap being the dominating one in the relationship, but Ghost not being entirely submissive either.
Like Simon can and will be the one to put him in HIS place, and snap him back to reality. Though still allows him his fun.
While Johnny relies on Ghost to let him know when he’s “too much” or taking things too far,—allows himself to be muzzled. Making a point to let Simon have the control, at least every now and then. Of course, while challenging Ghost’s authority a healthy amount and protesting the whole time.
Both try to be as respectful as possible of the other’s needs and desires, while also "maintaining their roles". But both are effectively switches, whether it's in the bedroom or not, and mainly put up this dom and sub act for other people and for their own amusement. They have no fixed roles, truly.
SOAP BEING JUST AS MENTALLY FUCKED AS GHOST MY BELOVED
thanks for coming to my Ted talk
(Also, the tidbit about Soap snapping a recruit’s thumb in half is actually based on a family member of mine’s story. Basically, my older sister had this guy pour water down the back of her shirt in high school, and in response, she straight up broke his thumb/snapped it in half lmao).
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famwhy · 2 years ago
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Bereavement (2)
noun
/bɪˈriːv.mənt/ The state one is in when losing someone important to them
Spiderman: Across the Spiderverse
42! Miles X F!Reader, 1610! Miles X F!Reader
Synopsis: Miles is missing, and all you can think about is getting him back. Upon finally finding him, however, you're taken aback by the copy that stands beside him—the same copy that was staring at you with wide, shaking eyes full of... disbelief?
Note: I can't—for the life of me—believe how many notes the first part got after just a few days of being out, you guys are actually insane. Thank you all so much. And thank you too, Kingpin, for giving me the idea in the first place lmao. (Do me a huge solid and lemme know if any of my Spanish needs some work, I studied it for 3 years but it's been over a year since it's been put to practice so I'm a little rusty)
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Miles would never drop you, not in a million years—you knew that.
Something had stopped him, forced him to let go as he froze in time; in an assortment of colours he couldn't control—that was how you found yourself where you were now—free-falling to your death for what was perhaps the second time in your life.
"Y/N!"
It was a lot scarier the first time—you had to admit—when you fell from the glass room right beside the huge collider more than a year ago. At the time, Miles had insisted you stay away from his spider business for your own safety, but you—being you—followed him down anyway.
That was your first mistake.
Your second—however—came in the form of letting Kingpin know you were there after allowing quite the ridiculous sneeze out of your mouth. And once he saw you, it wasn't hard for him to pick you up and throw you through the shattered glass in his rage and dismay of his failed plan.
Miles had his back completely turned to you when it happened, and yet—somehow—he was the first to whip his head around and notice your quickly descending form.
"Y/N!"
You had come so close to the ground—seconds away from touching it—when that familiar warmth wrapped its way around your waist, carrying you through the wind to prop you onto your own little cloud of safety.
Ever since then, Miles refused to leave your side. He took you out on every mission he went to—pretty much every news station had you pinned down as 'Spiderman's girl' and he never bothered to correct them.
So even as Gwen went off to another dimension, Miles grabbed you before following after. Even as he was invited to the headquarters of this 'spider society', he refused to go without them also granting you permission inside too.
When you asked him why he went to such lengths for you, he simply replied, "I almost lost you once while being in the same dimension as you, if you think I'm going to let it even come close to happening again, you've got another thing coming."
So no, you didn't find the second time you were falling to your death all that scary. Not when you knew Miles would save you—
"I've got you, cariño."
—you just didn't exactly know that it would be the other one that did.
His arms were wound tightly around the underside of your knees and upper back—carrying you so intimately, looking at you with so much love in his eyes, you found yourself growing slightly flustered.
...okay, very flustered.
"Oh, Cariño," as he spoke, he didn't lose the breath in his tone—the gentle air of disbelief he took on since your arrival, "you're here. I can't believe it—you're here. Te extrañé mucho." ("I missed you so much.")
You were speechless, gaping up at him like a clueless fish—what else could you do? You were being held in the arms of a copy of your best friend after he basically just confessed to you because the 'you' in this universe was apparently dead.
Though, luckily for you, there was no need to say a word for he continued speaking with those soft, fond eyes, "I missed your smile and your laugh. I missed how you always used to tug me around whenever something caught your eye... and how you would go on and on about whatever show was your new obsession of the month. You were always so... pretty when you spoke passionately.
"Speak for me, cariño," he continued, "let me hear that pretty voice of yours again."
"I—" you were stuttering—why were you stuttering?—"I, uh..."
Pull yourself together, Y/N.
"Miles—"
"Ah, I just realised how much I missed the way you say my name."
"—guh!" How the hell was he spitting such smooth lines? "Miles! Just listen for a minute, okay?!"
"Of course, mamí."
"I— I'm not who you think I am. I mean, I am Y/N but I'm not your Y/N. And you're not my Miles."
As the words came tumbling out your mouth, the boy's—this earth's Miles'—lips tugged down, gaze hardening and grip around you ever-so-slowly growing tighter.
"Don't be silly, mamí, of course I'm your Miles. I always have been and always will be."
Your brows furrowed and your eyes trailed to the view behind him, moving rapidly as you tried to locate your best friend. Though, soon, your view of the sky was cut off by the male with braids once more.
"What are you doing?" A growl. "Stop looking for him, look at me. I'm right here. He dropped you."
"He glitched! This isn't his world so of course he would, it wasn't his fault!"
You were quick to defend him—he was your best friend so of course you were. There was no way you were having anyone accuse him of anything negative, even himself.
"Cariño, you almost died. Again. He can't take care of you." Miles narrowed his eyes, as if just the thought pissed him off; as if he had the right to be pissed off.
"Oh what?" You scoffed. "And you can? I'm my own person, I don't need to be taken care of."
Stubbornly, you found yourself pulling away from him—or well, attempting to at least, he didn't seem to want to let you though, judging by the way his claws slowly began to dig into you a little.
His eyes were narrowed and his lips were tugged down, gaze seeming to pierce through you—as though he was trying to use you as a vessel to glare at the person he was really mad at.
Though, soon, the expression was gone, replaced by sullen eyes and an almost-far-away look—glossed over in a cloudy haze full of what you could only assume to be the grand despair that was grief; grief over a loss so great, it would pain someone to even admit it ever happened.
"Cariño, please. I don't want to argue with you, I just got you back. Please."
The look on his face, the crack in his voice—it was all too much, you almost couldn't stomach it, and soon, your arms loosened up as you lost the will to pull away.
"Miles," you whispered, "I... I'm really sorry—"
"Don't be, you're here with me now, aren't you? We can make up for all that lost time."
"I can't." Your vision blurred as you shook your head from side-to-side. "I'm sorry, I can't."
For a moment, all was silent. No words were exchanged, leaving only the strong wind to howl in your ears; to warn you of your grave mistake and whisper taunts into your ears. Then—
"It's because of him, isn't it?"
You almost couldn't muster words. "Huh?"
"The other me—it's because of him that you won't stay with me, isn't it?"
The look in his eyes was something of a dark nature, swirling with malice; with hate so inextricibly deep, you almost couldn't believe your own eyes—because... because there was just no way, right? There was no way your Miles (or any other Miles for that matter) could exhibit such a lethal level of loathing towards anyone...
"If I get rid of him, it won't be so much of a problem anymore... sí?"
...or was there?
@justmare, @majestichugs, @milktealvrr, @ladyfairenvale, @sakura-onesan, @haunted-pass, @phoenixgurl030, @stupendousnightmaretrash, @ultimate-geek14, @liaaa-1, @sluslutts, @angrypomeranianwifey, @thatbeanieboss, @kkate8008, @lilslmao, @honeydewpie, @elenasstxarr, @sloverr, @quartzangel0, @crystalsinwater, @astrosdelululand, @sflame15-blog, @nightshxdex, @dottoresgarden, @crowshiny, @teamowolverine, @bangtannie7, @k0la22, @kissmxcheek, @myloveforreading, @jared-oranges, @shisuishoe, @veryfancydoilies, @sunshinesetsstuff, @lovefks, @omg-the-nutella-queen, @hazzapotter, @levanneisdumb, @angie2274, @blueberrystigma
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taintandviolent · 6 months ago
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So, I saw that you write Gambit, and I fell in LOVE with your style and portrayal. I also saw your smut list? Could I maybe request Gambit with a female S/O? I can't decide between 100, 117, 127, 144. So uh.... You pick? I'm honestly a sucker for first times/possessive/protective/ would burn the world down to protect troupes. If it's too much though, feel free to ignore me. I don't mean to bother you about my hyper fixation crush xD
warnings: smut (female receiving), fingering, remy being selfless and concerned with your pleasure only, uhhhhh I think that's it. I'm sorry my smut drabbles have been kinda mild lately, I haven't got the braincell during the work week lmao.
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The sound of the world outside your window fades away as he touches you. Your back arches against the mattress, pushing your chest up into the air and as it does, Remy’s hands trail over your ample cleavage, admiring it as his fingertips ghost over the flesh, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. 
Every ragged breath has your tits bouncing, jiggling underneath his touch, and Remy gobbles up the visual like it’s dinner. Everything he does seems to elicit lewd reactions from your body, actually – not that you’re complaining. At all. In fact, you’re just about blissed out with the way he’s touching you. A shiver erupts down your spine, shaking your entire body. He smiles a half-smile as he watches your reactions.
He has you whining at the attentive way his hands move over your body, tracing every inch of it like he’s trying to remember it in case he never gets to touch it again. One hand traces the curve of your stomach, while the other is slotted between your legs, fingering you masterfully. You swallow, laboriously lifting your head to look down at his hands. He’s been going at you for God knows how long, you’ve lost track. You can feel the outline of his erection on your leg, yet he oddly hasn’t insisted upon anything. 
“You feel so good… but…”  He looks at you with concern in his eyes, as if he’s suddenly realized that you’re unhappy. Remy’s fingers slow their pace, ready for whatever comes next. He’d do anything to please you, even if that meant stopping. 
“B-But what about you?” you continue, worried.
Relieved, he chuckles low, and slides his finger down to your entrance, ready to resume. “We can worry about Remy later. It’s alla’ ‘bout you right now.”
His selfless response floors you… or maybe it’s the way that his middle finger breaches your dripping slit, and crooks up inside to find your G-spot with ease, while the wide pad of thumb continues swiping at your clit. Maybe it’s both. You’re going with both. 
You’re used to being pleasured. You’ve felt all this before – well, not this, specifically, because no man has ever pleasured you the way that Remy Lebeau is pleasuring you currently. From the way his finger encircles your clit, applying just enough pressure to drive you crazy, but not enough to make you orgasm yet to the way that he leans down every so often, kissing along your collarbone.
“Remy,” you plead. “I want you to feel good, too…” 
“Oh, don’t you worry ‘bout ‘dat, chere… I feel just fine right now.”
Serving as punctuation, Remy thrusts his hips into the meat of your thigh, bumping his swollen, aching cock against your leg. You can feel the heat of it through your pants, and long to touch it, to stroke it, to taste it… but he has you whipped underneath his grasp, he’s in control and you’re certainly not about to test his strength.
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c-nstellati-ns · 2 years ago
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miguel on top desperately riding u and begging u to take over n pound him through the floorboards
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ftm!miguel o'hara x reader
a/n — avid pussy enjoyer here
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"Here? Now?" You mutter under your breath, a small grin on your face as you feel him push you down against the floor roughly. It didn't bother you at all, really— it was just a tad amusing seeing him so desperate like this. He was usually quite well put together, but this was something different.
"Yeah, and?" Miguel says with a scoff, letting out a breathy sigh when he grinds his hips against your own. His head tilts back, and you see his the eyes of his mask squinting slightly when your crotches meet. You both were supposed to go around the different multiverses and make sure things were okay, but clearly, Miguel had a different idea. Sure, the mission had been boring so far since there wasn't much going awry around, but you didn't think it would lead to... this. He had pulled you into an abandoned building to talk privately, he said... what a conversation this was.
You passed your hands over his thighs, gently squeezing the mixture of muscle and fat of them. Power rippled underneath the skin, much more than you'd ever seen. Everything about the man on top of you screamed strength and intelligence. You admired that about him.
"Miguel, mi amor... They're going to come looking for us if we do this. This can wait a bit, can't it?" You tried to be the voice of reason, but a particularly hard roll of the man's hips shut you up real quick. You can feel his core twitch against you, already slick with arousal against your half hard cock.
"Let them find us." Miguel says, voice heavy and dripping with need. He was getting impatient. You watch as he grabs the bottom half of both your suits, his claws digging in deep before tearing away at the fabric without a care in the world. That'll be very annoying to fix later, you think to yourself, but his hands distract you very quickly. "We haven't been left alone all damn week, I need this now or else I'll go crazy." He growls lowly and you can imagine him baring his fangs underneath his mask.
You lean back onto the hardwood floor with a sigh, "That's true, isn't it?" May as well let him use you to his hearts content so he gets his fill.
He quickly works you to full hardness, thumb swiping over your weeping tip. If he weren't more careful, Miguel would have scratched your dick off. You were thankful. To show your appreciation, your hand slide down his thigh and made its way to his exposed cunt. You let out a pleased noise seeing how positively dripping he is for you already. You rub a circle over his clit, gently nudging the sensitive bundle. You're just about to slip your fingers into his folds when he stops you. Miguel tightens his grip onto your wrists before pinning them down above your head.
"You take too long." He mutters, lifting his hips up and guiding your cock into him. You hear a low hiss from him when your tip brushes against his clit, but that quickly turns into a noise of pleasure from the both of you as you slip inside. He feels absolutely heavenly around you, it takes everything within you to not break out of his grip to fuck up into his tight pussy.
Miguel was in control, you told yourself, for now.
You both sit there for a moment, relishing in the moment. Miguel's head is tilted back, a low groan threatening to rip itself from his throat whenever you shifted your hips.
"Deberías darte prisa, cariño. No quieres que nadie nos vea así, ¿verdad?" You purr at him, purposely using whatever little leverage you had to thrust lightly into him. You brushed right over Miguel's sweetspot, so close yet so far.
Miguel let out a frustrated groan and grabbed his mask, ripping it off and truly, it was more beautiful than anything you've ever seen. His cheeks were flushed, hair messy and sticking to his face with each heavy pant that falls from his lips. His fangs were threatening to rip through his lower lip from how hard he was biting down onto it. You'd tease him more if you could.
"¿Alguna vez sabes cuándo cerrar la boca, hijo de puta?" Miguel spits out, lifting his hips up and slamming down onto your cock roughly. It strikes all the good places within him and he lets out a soft moan. He eventually lets go of your wrists to steady himself on your shoulders, letting you grab ahold of his hips. The more you complied, the better it would be for the both of you.
Miguel must've wanted this bad because the way he squeezes down onto you when he lifts himself up leaves you breathless. Like he's determined to milk you dry. At first, his quick, rough pace was working until his hips began to stutter with each stroke of your thick cock within him. His legs were straining and his pace was getting sloppy. You knew what this meant.
With a small smile on your face, you passed a hand over his abdomen. "Struggling a little, hermoso? I can help you..." You muttered, planting your feet flat on the ground and thrust up into him firmly. It knocks the breath out of the man and he about collapses onto you. You can feel his claws digging into your shoulders, tearing at your suit but you didn't care anymore. You loved the wild look in his eyes, it was unlike anything you've ever seen.
After a bit of consideration, he growls out, "Fine. You owe me." If it meant fucking that pretty pussy of his again in the future, you'd do anything he'd ask.
Wordlessly, you flipped him onto his back with ease— warming something in the pits of Miguel's belly. He was glad you were strong.
You immediately leaned in to kiss him, starting off sweet but ending up sloppy as always. Miguel bites at your lips as if he were a man starved, his fang nicking your bottom lip and the taste of metal spreading throughout the kiss. You pulled away for a second before he pulled you back in desperately, wrapping his arms around your neck to keep you close. You were glad you didn't need air as frequently as any other human would.
While you kissed, you guided yourself back into him, sliding in with ease. This finally gets him to pull away from the kiss, a soft moan falling from his swollen lips. "D-date prisa, dios— no puedo soportarlo más." He says breathlessly, his eyelids fluttering when he felt your tip brush against that spot within him. He lets go of your neck and squeezes your shoulders, spreading his legs out further. What a whore.
You chuckle and set that same rough pace from before that you know he loves so much. "Telling me to hurry up, huh? Didn't you start this, Miguelito? You wanted this." You say with a cruel grin, emphasising your words with strikes to his cunt that leave Miguel speechless. You thumb at his clit again as you move, pressing against that bundle of nerves in all the right way.
He was so wet, absolutely dripping from just your words. Each smack of skin against skin and Miguel's helpless moans resonates through the room, the air thick with the scent of sex and blood.
"I bet you would just love it if I got you knocked up, huh?" You coo, a strangled sob coming from the man beneath you, "Te encantaría llevar a mis bebés, ¿no? Wanna see you all round with my kin, then maybe then you'd calm down and take a break finally, huh?" Your words are absolute filth and Miguel is eating up every bit of it.
You can feel your gut tightening up and with the way you're feeling him clench around you whilst making your back his own personal scratch post— it's safe to assume he's about to cum too.
"Gonna cum, mi amor. Where do you want it?" You ask, slowing down to a grinding halt to get his attention.
Miguel's voice is hoarse but he sobs out, "Inside— Adentro, por favor. Los amo tanto, quiero a sus bebés... Por favor, por favor, los necesito, los amo—" You shush him with a sweet kiss, one that leaves him absolutely wrecked. His lashes are wet with unshed tears, threatening to slip the harder you fucked him into the floor.
"Anything for you, sweet thing." You mutter softly into the kiss, wiping away his tears away.
You kiss his face a couple times before taking ahold of one of his hands to keep him grounded. You pushed him down into a mating press, the new angle successfully driving Miguel insane as you drove so deep within him.
You rubbed against his clit as you fucked into him like it was your last day on earth, watching the oh so stoic Miguel O'Hara unravel into a begging, whimpering mess underneath you.
You can feel his cunt squeezing down onto you and before you know it, he orgasms. That was enough for the pressure within you to finally snap, cock twitching as you emptied a thick, hot load into him. You continued moving within him, making sure every last drop of your release was pumped into him before eventually slowing down to a stop.
You were both absolutely fucked out, Miguel moreso than you. Tears and droll stained his face and you couldn't help but be proud of yourself. You leaned in to kiss him, muttering a soft 'good boy' under your breath. He kissed you back softly this time, low purrs coming from him as you showered him with praise and affection.
This was all interrupted when Miguel's watch beeped and small hologram of Jessica appeared.
"You two lovebirds finished patrolling yet? We have a situation that needs to be taken care of." She says with a hum, a slightly smug look on her face. She knew. Of course, she did.
"We'll be there in five." Miguel said roughly, his voice completely shot.
"Oh, and try to clean up before you get here, please? We don't anyone seeing-"
"WE'LLBETHEREINFIVEBYE." Miguel yells out, embarrassment clear in his face before closing the communication line. That woman would be the death of him. He lets out an irritated sigh and looks to you, slightly startled by the lovestruck look in your eyes.
Yeah, this would be the man you'd marry, you concluded.
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all works belong to c-nstellati-ns ⓒ 2023. do not steal or repost. ask before translating.
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lightlycareless · 9 months ago
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Naoya's reaction when y/n's thighs expand 3 times its size when she sits down. For my girlie's that have thick thighs 🙏🙏 plus me. Serious insecurity but damn wouldn't that be Naoya's 2nd favourite thing after tiddies. Definitely would give some criticism that y/n don't exercise enough and that's why her thighs are like that,but would br also smother his face between her thighs? Yes
Hello anon!!
Ngl when I first read this ask (the beginning) I was like HUH? But then I read the rest and was like ugh same. I kind of relate to what you feel, that plus chafing and what not 💀
ANYWAYS I hope you enjoy this debauched piece. :) ehehehe dunno what was going through my head but I liked it.
warnings: NSFW. THOUGH NOT DETAILED, THERE'S SMUT. MINORS DNI. Naoya and the Zen'in are perverts, some more explicit than others. Also misogynistic views, unwanted commentary about bodies.
Happy reading!
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You know what I was thinking?
Naoya being so obsessed with your body, that the moment he sees you he doesn’t even bother to make formal introductions or anything; nope.
He just needed to see you sit down one time, one time, unwittingly getting a very detailed look of how your thighs just become bigger underneath your skirt, alongside the adorably cute way you attempted to tug the edge down to avoid revealing too much (Naoya had seen more than enough at that point, of course he did.) and that was it for him to know you’d be the perfect wife.
So, fast forward a few weeks, after making the right arrangements, you’re effectively married to him, “happily” living in the Zen’in estate, where he can keep an eye on you, close to whenever he might need to make use of your wifely commitments—but most importantly, underneath constant scrutiny that not even your role as future Lady of the House could save you from.
The torments you’re subjected to here aren’t ones you haven’t heard before, in fact, you’ve heard enough of them to not care anymore…
But perhaps being married to Naoya, something that many cautioned would probably never happen due to your appearance, was enough to finally make them hurt.
His family just couldn’t… wrap their mind around the fact that from all women in the world, literally anyone else, he chose you: the epitome of laziness as they’d like to say. The sheer example of not being able to control one’s selfish desires in favor of temporary satisfaction.
In a world where thinner, athletic physiques were encouraged, you sure stood out like a sore thumb.
It wasn’t your fault, though. Some people were simply born that way, with different genetics and there was nothing wrong with that.
But to them, that was not enough of an excuse, if there ever was one; and once you heard for the last time how Naoya was simply tolerating you because, well, because of some unknown reason, you had enough.
You were tired of constantly hearing them belittling your worth, comparing you to whichever woman they brought along to hopefully convince Naoya into divorcing you—or at least sow his seeds on a more suitable candidate; a fact made worse when he seemingly didn’t put a resistance to their invitations, chipping away at your confidence.
And above all, you were exhausted of unwittingly highlighting the faults in your relationship, the clear signs that Naoya was never truly happy with you, such as those scarce moments of intimacy the two shared. Those that you didn’t think much of, outside of fear and pain, for he never struck you to be the kind, patient lover (and he wasn’t).
But now that these issues were highlighted… you could only feel sorrowful.
Naoya, while insatiable when it comes to lust, seemed to have only spent the night with you for political reasons. To fulfill his duty of securing the future of the Zen’in—not because he ever harbored desire for you.
Yet, why did you even expect otherwise? For he too demeaned you with cruel commentaries, and with the one thing you were mostly self-conscious about…
“You know, your thighs wouldn’t be that big if you actually worked out or something…”
“Don’t wear that. I don’t want you to show your legs—it’s already unbefitting a woman, but in your case… well, it’s only necessary.”
That was more than enough to finally push you to the edge and do the one thing many were constantly pestering you about: not to eat. Though in your defense, it’s not like you felt like doing so anyways, the voices and faces of those that hurt you were quick to put you back in your place if you even did as little as consider it, ruining your appetite.
And you managed to keep this way for a few days, at least until you began to grow sick, tired, unable to tend to your duties as you did before, which did not escape your staff’s attention, and subsequently, Naoya’s.
“What the fuck is wrong with you??” Naoya would exclaim first thing upon returning from a mission; tired. The last thing he wanted to do was deal with the complaints of your lacking commitment, the only goddamn thing you had to do around the estate. “To go ahead and cause problems to my family, taint my name—have you got no shame?!”
“I didn’t mean to…” you murmur, yourself tired as well, due for other reasons, made worse by Naoya’s reproach.
“Then do you mind explaining what the hell were you thinking? What were you planning to do? Get my attention??” He frowns. “Dramatic, but what else could I expect from a woman like you?”
“Please, Naoya… I don’t feel like arguing…”
“No, of course not. You don’t feel like doing anything, do you? Not even eating!” He remarked. “What? Trying to lose some weight, now? Is that what’s gotten into your mind?”
You remain silent, giving him enough of an answer. He laughs.
“So it is that!” He boasts. “I can’t believe it, Y/N! I didn’t think you’d be so stupid to actually do that!”
“Leave me alone…” you whisper, tears beginning to pool around your eyes.
“To what? Puke your guts out, now? Don’t be stupid!” Naoya continues to jest. “I knew women were desperate, but I didn’t think you’d break the mold!”
His words, perhaps out of your already brewing insecurities, or simply because you’ve grown tired of his mockery, wash you over with an unprecedented wave of anger, dropping your heart to the pit of your stomach as you sharply turn around, ready to take a stand for yourself once and for all.
“And why do you care so much, hm, Naoya?!” You cry. “Weren’t you also one of those that always bothered me about my weight? About how embarrassing I am to your name simply because of the way I look?!”
He flinches, startled by your reaction at first, but soon angered by it as well.
“I won’t tolerate your disrespect—” he frowns, yet you don’t let him continue.
“You even ask me to cover myself up!” you gasp. “You’re so—you’re so disgusted by how I look that you—you wouldn’t mind if I spent the rest of my life locked away so you won’t ever have to see—”
“Do you hear yourself?” Naoya seethes, taking your hand and pulling you to him with such strength that instantly startles you, making you squirm in reaction, trying to move away but he keeps you still, understanding you’ve officially made him furious. “Do you hear the stupidities you’re spewing?!”
“Leave—leave me alone.” You whimper, tears sliding down your cheeks. “You’re hurting me!”
“I ought to hurt you more for insulting me!”
“Insulting… you?” you repeat, confused. “How was this insulting to you?!”
“You think I’d let you walk around the estate like a whore? Let you display what’s mine?!”
“Naoya, you’re not—you’re not making any sense.” You respond, shame settling in your heart. “If you’re going to make fun of me—!”
“You’re fucking stupid, did you know that?” Is all that he says before pushing you against the wall, making you whimper when roughly hitting the wooden pillar behind, a noise that is quickly shut by his lips landing on yours, wasting no time for his tongue to battle yours, subduing you. “So fucking stupid…”
He’d murmur, you moan.
“Na—Naoya—” you breathe, torn apart by his desire and your confusion. Didn’t he… dislike you? “St—stop!”
“What is it that you wanted me to do? Stand aside as my family ogles at you?!”
“Don’t you mean—don’t you mean scrutinize?!” you gasp, flinching when his lips move from yours, down to your jaw, then neck… “Stop—stop mocking me!”
“I should feel offended by your stupidity, if anything.” He responds, pulling away from you to take a good look into your teary eyes—as if trying to assess if you really declared such atrocity, or if it was work of his own anguished mind. “Your blindness to acknowledge what I truly think of you.”
“They—they hate me.” You tremble, why would he want you to remember such an awful thing? “You hate me—”
“No, Y/N.” Naoya groans, pressing closer to you while taking your hand once more to move it down to his groin where his hardening cock was in full display for you to feel, destroying the perceptions you had of everything around you—around him. “This is what you make them feel— what you make me feel!”
“Nao—Naoya—” you tremble, trying to move away your hand from his growing length, intimidated that he somehow felt even bigger underneath your palm; giving the impression his desire for you right now was much stronger than any other instances. But… how? Or more likely, Why? “I don’t—I don’t get it—!”
“Do you really think I’d be blind to the way they stare at you? To their futile attempts of bringing you down, of changing you, just so they’d stop thinking what your skin feels like underneath their fingertips—or how sweet your cunt tastes like?” Naoya breathed, continuing to rub your hand against his cock, desperate to let you know how much he needs his release—how he wants to throw this senseless discussion away…
But not without declaring his upper hand, the one he always had with his family, of course. “But they can’t” He smirks. “The moment I saw you, I knew you’d be the perfect wife, the perfect mother for my children.”
The thought of harboring such desire from Naoya made your cunt tighten, the same way his cock twitches.
“They’re just jealous I got to you first.” He continues. “That I was able to see your worth just by your wide hips and ample bosom—you’re the epitome of femininity… but even better—
You’re all mine.”
“But you—but you said horrible things to me—” you cry, his lascivious words still not enough to remove the pain from those awful moments. “Why…?”
“Aw, my love.” Naoya chuckles, cupping your face with his hands and squeezing it so softly, making you pout, a face he always loved to incite from you, amongst others. “I just can’t help it; your reactions are so adorable; you simply make it too easy.”
His hands then travel down to the edges of your skirt, lifting your kimono just enough to reveal your smooth legs to him, the same ones he always had touch and kneed whenever you were close, the mere sight of them enough to make him further spiral into his desire—
If not anger when seeing the flimsy piece of cloth covering your cunt, fingers quick to grab the edge and rip it apart, letting out a quick gasp from your mouth.
“How many times have I told you to stop wearing these stupidities?!” He hisses. “You know damn well than to go against the words of your own husband!”
“But you—you hadn’t touched me.” You fret. “Since that night, we… you hadn’t—I didn’t think it was necessary.”
“You truly couldn’t be any dumber, could you? Just because I’ve been busy does that mean you can go on and disobey my words?” Naoya accuses with a jesting tone that serves to place the direction of his following actions. “My lovely wife is really that naive… luckily for you, I’m the one in charge of doing all the thinking, while you—you just have to stay like this, ready for me…
To take my cock like the good whore of a wife you are, with that lewd body of yours that is only mine. Exclaiming for me to give you a baby, make you a mother, make your hips wider, your breasts bigger, filled milk—”
And the way your body tightens against him, letting out a moan when his hands parted your legs, guiding his cock onto your dampened slit and gently pushed the head into you, let’s him know this desire has settled in the back of your mind for quite some time, but never revealed itself by the stupidities of his own family, his too undeniably.
But after these agonizing days away from you, forced so by his job, if not those insignificant whores his family brought in an attempt to push him away from you, failing to do so for he quickly discarded them as soon as they crossed his sight…
He’ll never let the opportunity to claim you pass again.
Naoya will do whatever necessary to drill that idea into that little, pathetic mind of yours, even if it means fucking you in the middle of the hallway, where all servants and relatives alike would be able to hear his message loud and clear.
The reality they could only dream of in their most desperate moments—but to him, it was only a matter of taking.
“Naoya—Naoya please—not here.” You whimper, your husband had effectively forced you onto the ground and made you take his cock, either from behind, hands and knees on the wooden floor as he teased and kneaded your ass and hips; he was an avid enjoyed of many positions, but this one had to be one of his favorite ones. To see your skin bounce whenever his hips slammed into you, savoring the way your lewd cunt swallowed him whole, down to the base, with no intentions of letting go, regardless of what you said, it was surprising he still had some restraint. “Please—they’re—they’re going to see!”
“Let them.” Naoya moans, the thought of being caught sends a shiver through his spine; and while it’s not something he necessarily advocated for, the constant, tiring need to be proving his authority over you is what forced him to do so. You might as well play along. “Let them hear how tight your cunt is around my cock! How only I can make you come undone like this—”
“N—No—I don’t—I don’t want…!” you whimper, but even when he changed positions, having you on top of him, giving him sight of the breasts he couldn’t wait to see grow when you’re inevitably pregnant, you still do not stop jumping on his cock, moving your hips up and down alongside his, clenching whenever hitting that sensitive spot that always had you seeing stars. “I don’t want to cum—!”
“Then maybe—Maybe you shouldn’t have this lewd body.” Naoya moans, truly believing that he would never be able to stop himself from using every inch of your body for his own pleasure—from fucking his cock between your soft thighs and boobs, admiring the way they completely cover his cock, drowning it in a combination of softness and his own seed, barely able to see where the tip of his head was…
To relieve that same sensation with his own face, asking you—no, demanding you to smother him with your thighs, a sensation that has him thinking if he were to die this way, cock hard, eased by your soft licks and moans, while deep in the sweet taste of your cunt, he wouldn’t mind it, not one bit.
In fact, he hopes that’s the way he goes.
But he’s in no rush to avoid enjoying the present, the warmth of your body besides him when the two eventually stop, careless to acknowledge if they ever gathered an audience, certainly so when Naoya’s mind was firmly set in getting you pregnant, as heard by his following words.
“I’ll see you tonight.” He declares. “It’s about time you give me a heir.”
And you do nothing but oblige, though you doubted all the cum nestled inside your cervix hadn’t done the job already.
“Naoya, you’re—oh!” You gasp when instead of waiting for you to stand up to properly greet him, he lowers down to your level, taking a seat before eventually resting his head over your lap, taking a deep sigh and resting for the first time after a long week of work. “Is… everything alright?”
In fact, you relished the idea. If it meant getting this side of Naoya’s desire, attention you didn’t think to be deserving of, or even capable of obtaining…. Then you were nothing but obedient.
“I’m tired.” He responds, adjusting himself into an even better position and sighing once more. “I don’t want to talk.”
So, you don’t, preferring instead to softly caress his head, moving some of his silky black threads away from his face and letting him relax, enough to dive into the beginnings of his slumber, but not before clearing his mind from one doubt.
“Our baby—”
“He’s fine.” You murmur, placing your hand over your stomach. It’s still very early during the pregnancy to know so, and yet, there was something about you that just made it so obvious that you were carrying a life inside you—
Perhaps it was the way you glowed, or how you became softer with him ever since it was first announced.
Though the latter was mostly the fact that you started to feel… wanted by your husband, a kind of desire that while far from perfect, was enough for you to change your perspective of this marriage, allowing you to open up to him, mostly so when Naoya now defended you from those unwanted comments from his family.
You’re carrying the future of the Zen’in, after all, some decorum must be maintained.
Yet something tells you his changed demeaner ran far deeper than what Naoya wanted to reveal. «All in due time» you suppose.
“I love you, and our baby too.” You say, instinctively taken by this calm moment of domesticity with your loving husband, not expecting a response considering his somewhat cold nature—only to be proven wrong when he turns around to see you, silently placing his gaze on yours in such way that initially makes you think you might’ve ruined this moment, just for him to pull you closer to him, taking your lips in a soft, quick kiss before returning to your lap, closing his eyes and sleeping.
He may not have said it, but the sentiment was the same, and that was enough for you to be happy.
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Naoya is still a jerk, but I like to think he eventually got to genuinely care about you. Also, he got real lucky that one time he thought with his dick, imagine if you were a piece of shit too? NAH He'd lose it. He got real lucky that you were nice, I tell you...
Also, I'm still with the pregnancy stuff :) sorrynotsorry.
OH! and also!! It's safe to say that the things Naoya said are NOT a reflection of what I think!! Everybody is beautiful and deserving of love, no matter what body type ❤️
Now, thank you so much for sending this niche ask... I gotta say, I have been thinking about it since I do relate to it............... but I try to keep my work pretty open-ended so anyone can relate :) Still, if there's something you'd like me to write a bit more detailed, just let me know! I'll be sure to try my best tho, some I might reject if I don't feel like I know much about the matter....
Anyways, thank you so much for this ask ❤️ take care, and hope to see you soon ❤️
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thewoollyviking · 1 month ago
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Wanted to take a point I made in a reblog chain and make it its own post because I feel it put to words something that’s been bothering me about SU and the Diamonds in particular.
The Diamonds did not actually mourn Rose for those thousands of years after the war. And trying to get us to sympathize with their grief while turning around to denounce Rose felt so incredibly tone deaf.
Let me explain a bit why I feel this way…
So, according to the art books, all four Diamonds are rough around 20,000 years old. To give you an idea how old that is compared to irl history…
There are figures early humans carved from mammoth ivory and spear tips carved from flint that were made when the bottom of the North Sea was still a mammoth steppe in Doggerland.
Subtract the time Rose spent on Earth after the war (give or take a few centuries) and assuming the craptastic treatment she endured under the Diamonds has pretty much been the norm for all that time, and she had been abused for roughly 10-12,000 years.
Rose’s abuse predates agriculture and written language.
I. Do not. Give. A single. Chicken. Fried. Fuck. How sad or sorry the Diamonds think they were after losing Rose.
Oooooh booo fucking hooo Blue sulked in the middle of a human zoo Rose never even wanted in the first place.
Yellow knew Rose wanted to spare Earth and apparently thought the best way to honor her memory was to blow it the fuck up.
And White’s first action seeing “Pink” return was to send a mind controlled version of her original Pearl to greet her as a power move. To remind her what happens when she doesn’t control her power.
They didn’t mourn Rose. They mourned the person they wanted her to be.
I struggle to think of any other example of behavior both in the show or just in fiction altogether that’s this self destructive, self righteous, and self entitled.
This wasn’t morning, this was a 5,750 year long temper tantrum from the three of them.
And that’s made all the more clear once they realized Steven isn’t Rose.
Barely a few years after the end of season five and they seem completely unphased by the revelation that Rose really, truly is gone. And that her passing was not the act of some rogue gem, but their own abusive behavior chasing her away and being haunted by personal demons they inflicted on her.
Nope, their only goal now is getting Steven to take her place and live with them.
“Aww Pink’s gone? Gee that sucks. Welp, time to find a new pink!”
Suddenly now that they don’t have some villain to blame for their misfortune, they’re all too happy to sweep it under the rug.
Fuck dude, some people mourn Healthcare CEOs more than the Diamonds actually mourned Rose.
And yet the Diamonds get that nice fairy tale happy ending where they can be quirky space grandmas who think what they’re doing will ever hope to make up for the suffering they caused.
Meanwhile, Rose’s own loved ones feel like they have to apologize for daring to mention her in a positive light and worry they’re making excuses for her.
The Diamonds have been the instigators who made everything worse without fail. They’re the reason Rose came out as such a broken fucking person and yet we’re asked to pass more judgement on her for not being enough of a perfect fucking princess to solve things Steven’s way?
Rose spent her entire goddamn life clawing her way out of that pit of misery but we’re supposed to scoff at her for getting mud on her dress along the way?
What the fuck was the point in showing that Rose spent that lifetime trying to be better to just end it with “maybe her family would be better off if they just stopped thinking about her altogether.”
I still love this show. But I cannot and will not ever be able to rewatch Future.
The Diamonds are a gaggle of entitled, selfish, miserable, wretched hags. All of the grief they endured was entirely their own damn fault and they only have themselves to blame. They do not deserve a single fucking shred of sympathy. Especially not if the show wanted to end with leaving their most notable victim on such a bitter, hateful note.
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amphitriteswife · 2 months ago
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Keep quiet
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Warnings: NSFW content it’s my first so its bad
Pairing: DG x fem! Reader
Summary: a pool party is too boring for you. Especially when it’s all just about DG…so why not spice it up a little?
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DG often hosts parties, they’re always limited, luxurious and lavish events. You usually complained to DG that you disliked the parties, often it was only all about it. His friends. Many influencers and models. The party was held on the top of his entertainment building, which he ofcourse owned. What doesn’t he own at this point? Once again you found yourself at the edge of the pool, bored out of your mind while DG talked to Daniel about something that ‘didn’t concern you’. What a dickhead. But to make it up to you he promised to let you have a little ‘control’ over him. Hence the reason for the remote in your hand. DG is confident and aloof. He can take a lot. Can’t he? He is THE DG after all…
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You watched DG from afar, many people were busy getting a drink at the bar. They were having fun dancing and ordering, it was all free and fun since DG was paying for it so who wouldn’t let this opportunity go to waste? Because of so many people put of the way you had a clear view of DG talking to Daniel. He wore a skimpy short and some slippers, as well as a shirt that he didn’t bother to button up. You could see the serious expression om his face as if he was talking about something rather serious. which made this all so much more fun…So serious and aloof. Just typical DG….why not take things further? He didn’t even seem to be bothered by the thing in his pants. How annoying!…it wouldn’t hurt to mess with him for a little right? Your finger lightly brushing over the buttons on the remote. Decideing to go easy on him, you pressed only on level 2. Shouldn’t be so hard right? You would be proven wrong when you see DG almost spit pit his cocktail. His reaction made Daniel rather startled and worried. But DG is no weak man, he simply put up his hand as a sign that he was fine and cleared his throat. Ofcourse the murderous glare he gave you didn’t go unnoticed by the either of you.
Standing up from the edge of the pool, you made your way to the pair, introducing yourself to Daniel and sitting on the pink couch DG was sitting on, he didn’t bother to put a hand around you. Too focused on swirling his straw in the cocktail and trying his best to ignore the vibration against his prostate. You could hear his breath hitch when you gave him a playful push. ‘Watch it.’ He told you sternly. His eyes trying to focus more on his cocktail and trying to not listen to the soft ‘vrrrr’ in his pants. The discomfort of not making any sounds made him move his legs. He could feel the blood rushing to his abdomen. The slight sensation of electricity shooting trough his spine which made him shiver. The feeling of his already short swimming trunks becoming even more tight. He surpresed the feeling by giving Daniel a sweet smile, although it was clear it wasn’t genuine. Even Daniel figured as much, which made Daniel think that he said something to offend him and apologized. DG smiled ever so sweetly, yet you knew he was getting way more irritated. The slight movement of his jaw clenching, his brows ever so furrowed and the way he gulped more than usual, all signs that he wanted you to stop. But…
DG having satisfaction? That’s no fun. So you why not put the vibrator up to another level? The sudden increase in vibrations made DG bite down a grunt, he spoke in a more strained voice to Daniel who was very v unsure of what was going on. DG clenched his legs together, the sound becoming a little more clouded, but still noticeable. The sudden tent in DG’s pants also made him hitch, his hand quickly covering his crotch. He still remained smiling to Daniel softly clearing his throat, yet his mind was practically screaming and begging you to help him out. The veins in his neck were on the verge of busting, and so was he. In one desperate attempt to cover himself up from the massive print in his swimming trunks he pulled you closer to him, half off your body covering him. He nuzzled into your neck while Daniel talked to him about someone called James Lee. It made you a little curious to who that was and if he was cute. DG on the other hand was heavily breathing next to your ear.
‘You have no fucking idea what you’re doing.’ DG practically hissed to you, despite his smile, you could see the frustration in his eyes. He hates it, but you’re his girlfriend. And he owns you after being too bust the lasts weeks. Hence why he is letting you do this. He shifts you around, letting you sit on his clothed erection. Damn it why are you like this? He’s busy and you’re over here making him hard! He kept you in place by holding you by your hips. Daniel seemed very friendly and offered to get a drink for you at the bar since he was heading there anyway. Which probably wasn’t true. He could feel that DG was quite…angry with you and he didn’t want to be in the crossfire. DG watched Daniel walk to the bar with a smile, the same fake smile he always gives someone. After Daniel was out of sight his smile dropped and turned his head to look at you. ‘Care to explain?’ The question sounded more like a demand. And it wasn’t with his silky idol voice either. ‘Explain what?’ You asked him with fake laced innocence. Your voice made him furrow his brow and scoff at you. Excuse him? Who is he to scoff at you? You’re the one with the power here! You ‘hmphed’ at him and switched the vibrator to a higher level. This earned a soft unexpected moan to escape DG which he tried to cover up with coughs. His prostate pressed more against you. He groaned. His voice hoarse and panting. The sudden hug from him made you stiffen. ‘What’s up with you?’ You felt his head on your shoulder and his arms wrapping around your form, his legs bouncing you slightly in his lap. He picked up the pace and after a while stopped, panting even harder than before. ‘What are you-’ you could feel the wetness creeping on your own clothes, your eyes darting down to see the wet spot in DG’s pants.
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weepingtalecowboy · 2 months ago
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Hylia and her puppet show
yeah I haven’t had enough of tormenting legend in the prior one lol
Fanfic prompt:
Sky tends to talk about Sun like she is a goddess
He loves the goddess because he loves his Zelda
Yet what happens if he actually prays for her help
During a fight with the shadow half the chain got injured by its cursed sword
Not knowing what to do the chosen hero would pray for her help hoping for aid
Yet her vessel was not his Sun
Or
The chain messes up and Sky tries to get hylia to dump them into a desert to break the curse at least
But hylia decided that she needs to have a self insert moment and overwrites her closest puppet to use her powers to break the curse herself
Because she obviously can grant her dolls any powers whenever ,… she just gave flora drama because that would have been neat ,… just like a writer then turned flora off for the century she would seal the calamity which is the sole reason why flora is so chill with decades passing while she was trapped
So using legend as a vessel she heals everyone
And then proceeds to cling to her favorite character
The chain was happy for being saved for about four seconds before realizing that hylia possessed legend and doesn’t really looks like she wants to leave
It gets more uncanny when legend's body is acting like everyone's own Zelda when she interacts with them personally
Like personal nicknames
body language
and more unsettling very clear callbacks to moments and conversations with their Zeldas that legend would by no means be aware of
It’s an exact copy of their Zeldas behaviors every time
While sky is very much against hylia possessing his younger brother for the sole purpose of copying Sun to an unsettling degree
He kind has to deal with it because hylia really wants her time as a self insert character to be around him the most because apparently she truly has sun's memories and no one else has married their Zelda yet or at all
So she likes him the most
But also how do you bargain with a goddess who kinda is wearing your younger brother like a coat to give said brother back and not offend her because she obviously is a cursed combination of your fiancé and all other Zeldas and legend
It was one of the most awkward and painful dates he ever had in his life and he had tried to charm a bar keeper for no good reason before
At least if he looks away from her and pretends that Sun has a bad cold that changed her voice it kind makes things less awful to endure
When he managed to get hylia to leave as politely as possible by saying that even if he is aware that she is his fiancé and his precious sun
He feels like he is cheating on her if he is with her in another vessel and even more he loves legend differently and that makes it incredibly hard to look past it and please let them forget this situation to not make it weird
She understandingly leaves (and he prayed that she would not take it as a motivation to go for Sun next )
Legend wakes up and is surprised that he isn’t in agonizing pain (hylia kinda took it away because she couldn’t be bothered to include this detail about this particular doll while controlling it,… and then she was too lazy to add it again )
But everyone stayed the hell away from him for like the next two days because of how weird it was
He is even more confused about why he feels so safe around sky nowadays
What happened during the fight with dink
(The chain freaked the hell out when they realized that hylia took sky's explanation a bit too literally because how the hell do they tell legend that he is actually hylia's doll thingy or something,… should they even tell him.,? )
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lena-in-a-red-dress · 5 months ago
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Musician Age Gap AU Pt 15
Kara sleeps hard and deep next to Lena that night, when they finally run out of energy and tension and need. She wakes hours later flat on her back, a starfish-shaped pillow for Lena to wrap herself around.
Realizing the younger woman is indeed tucked against her side, Kara curls her arm around Lena's shoulders, earning a moan of malcontent. "Five more minutes..."
Kara is more than willing to give Lena more than that, but a knock at the door pre-empts that idea. Lena groans, this time loud enough to be petulant.
"No can do," Jess calls from the other side of the door. "You don't pay me enough to tell your mother no!"
It must be a long standing joke between them, because Lena snorts, even as she reluctantly rolls onto her back.
"I have coffee!" Jess adds to lessen the blow.
Lena perks up a little, but still takes her time stretching against the sheets. "Fine," she calls. "Tell her we'll be in the kitchen in five. She can join us."
"Thank you!"
Kara listens to the exchange with her eyes closed, mentally preparing herself to peel away from Lena. Lena seems equally disinclined. Finally, Kara cracks a smile. "You should pay Jess more, if it'll get us more than five extra minutes."
"There is no amount of money on Earth that could convince Jess to cross my mother." Lena sighs. "Honestly I don't blame her. If she wasn't *my* mother I'd be running too."
Kara wisely keeps any thoughts she has on the matter of Lillian to herself. The woman has yet to look on her with any other than complete and utter disdain, and Kara is more than happy to let that be as far as it goes. She suspects that if she and Lillian were ever truly at odds, well.... she doubts recent-girlfriend would win in a contest against mother-manager.
Eventually, they manage to crawl out of bed and throw on some pajamas for decency before making their way to the kitchen. Lena's cooking an omelette for herself when Lillian joins them, with Kara hunched over a bowl of cereal.
"Charming," Lillian comments, to Kara's consternation. It's just cereal. But Lillian has already turned to Lena, so Kara settles for sticking her tongue out while the woman's back is turned.
"You have a meeting with Morgan Edge this morning at 10:30am," Lillian announces.
Lena stiffens at the stove. Kara catches the stillness immediately, but keeps quiet.
"You mean *we* have a meeting--"
"No, I have a meeting with Maxwell Lord. If I'd meant we, I would have said we."
Lena turns to her mother. "We agreed--"
"You are an adult, Lena, and capable of conducting a meeting without me," Lillian chides. "The label simply wants to check in on the tour and your recent... escapades. Meanwhile I be sorting the details of releasing your newest single."
Lena's cheeks splotch with color, though she does her best to hide her distress. "But--"
"Morgan's schedule is already strained Lena. If you cancel this meeting, you risk losing the faith of the label, as would rescheduling my meeting with Lord. You're fully capable of handling this on your own."
"But--"
Lena's protest dies in her throat under Lillian's withering glare. She swallows thickly, ducking her head. Satisfied, Lillian nods. "It's settled then. You have a photo shoot at 2pm, and we're due at the hangar at 7."
Lena nods, but her gaze is distant. Her features are neutral, but Kara knows its a mask. Even so, if Lillian sees as much as well, it doesn't bother her.
"And try to dress presentably, dear. If you intend to convince him you have... this," Lillian waves vaguely in Kara's direction, "under control, you'll need to look the part."
Lena nods, prompting her mother to nod approvingly. "Good. Don't be late."
With that, she turns and leaves them alone in the kitchen. Kara watches Lena, who doesn't move, not even when the smell of just-burning egg begins to fill the room.
"Lena?"
Blinking back to awareness, Lena hurriedly turns off the stove. Her fingers fumble on the knob, and Kara sees that they're trembling.
"Lena?"
"I'm not that hungry after all," Lena says distantly. Before Kara can press further, she continues. "Do you mind staying here today? Well, not *here*, just--"
Just not with her.
Kara nods quietly. "Yeah. I've got some work I can do."
It's not a lie, but it's definitely an acquiescence. Lena clearly doesn't want company for the impending meeting, and Kara has no reason to insist she go with her save concern.
"Thank you," Lena returns, distracted. "I should go get ready."
She makes a swift exit. Kara retreats to her own suite soon after, her own appetite quashed by the sudden change in mood. By the time she re-emerges, Lena is nowhere in sight, and there's no answer to Kara's knock on her door.
Doing her best to ignore the ball of worry churning in her belly, Kara sets up shop at the kitchen island. She's all but taken a leave of absence, but Eve sends her enough to keep busy for the morning. Lena texts that she's on the way to her photo shoot, confirming she won't be returning to the hotel. Jess would pack her things and arrange their delivery to the airport.
Sure enough, Jess arrives barely half an hour later, cheerful and busy as ever. She offers to take care of Kara's things as well, but shrugs amiably when Kara declines. As she works, Kara takes her laptop and retreats to her bedroom.
After a quick check of the time difference, Kara facetimes the only person who could give her comfort.
"Hey," Alex greets cheerfully from the screen. "How's Paris?"
"Fine," Kara allows, but lacking enthusiasm.
Alex frowns. "What's wrong?"
Kara hesitates. She knows Alex will keep her confidence, but sharing what she saw this morning feels... intimate. Perhaps too intimate for the fact Lena has only met Alex via phone call a week ago.
"I've got a bad feeling," she allows carefully. "And I don't know what to do about it."
"About Lena?"
"More like... for Lena? Lena's been-- amazing. But this morning... I don't know."
Alex considers Kara's words, taking a moment to determine her path of approach. "Sounds personal," she allows. "But it doesn't sound like it has anything to do with you, or your relationship?"
Kara nods. "It's not about us."
"Then I think... I think you should consider whether it's something you should get invovled with."
Resistance flares in Kara. "But I care about her--"
"I know," Alex confirms quickly. "And I'm sure she does too. So if she hasn't shared with you about what's making her uncomfortable, maybe she just doesn't want to."
On the screen, Alex sits on her bed. The room is still around her. Kelly's probably already at work.
"You care a lot, Kara. You always have. And I know Lena is even more special."
Kara can't deny it. She's loved before, but not like this. Her commitment to Lena has been swift and complete-- but from Alex's tone now, it's something she should be wary of.
"Hey," her sister says softly. "Why don't you come home for a visit? Esme would love to see you."
Resistance twists Kara's stomach into a knot. But this time, Kara stops to examine it. She came to support Lena, but... she's also made Lena her world, even if just for a few weeks. Does her resistance to leaving mean she thinks the distance would lessen the feelings she has for Lena?
Or does she trust that they'll remain, even with an ocean between?
After a moment, Kara makes her decision.
"Yeah. I can catch a flight tonight."
At the very least, at the end of this visit she'll know whether her feelings are more than a proximity-fueled addiction. And when she comes back... she'll have her head on straight, and hopefully feel more grounded than she does right now.
On the screen, Alex smiles broadly. "We'll make sure to have the guest room ready for you. Esme is going to be so stoked. Prepare yourself for the inquisition."
Kara grins.
"I look forward to it."
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