#one of the few things the un does

[beardedmrbean]

ULAANBAATAR – During the 19th session of the Intergovernmental Committee for the Safeguarding of the Intangible Cultural Heritage, held in Paraguay, the “Mongolian Nomadic Practices” were officially inscribed on UNESCO’s Representative List of the Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity.

This marks the 16th element from Mongolia to be included in UNESCO’s Intangible Cultural Heritage list.

The “Mongolian Nomadic Practices” encompass a comprehensive system of traditional knowledge and rituals, including selecting suitable pastures, choosing auspicious dates for migration, preparing and loading livestock for travel, cleaning campsites, performing rituals to honor new settlements, and managing herds in harmony with the capacity of pastures, the structure and size of livestock, and the distribution of wildlife and plants. These practices also emphasize sustainable use of natural resources and the protection of the environment.

Research and studies were conducted to support the nomination of this heritage element for inscription on UNESCO’s list.

UNESCO experts visited Mongolia to study its nomadic cultural heritage, and with the participation and support of scholars, researchers, and thousands of herders, the value and significance of these practices were recognized and officially inscribed, according to the Ministry of Culture, Sports, Tourism, and Youth.

[icewindandboringhorror]

If you became super rich and could design your own house, but could only add THREE unnecessary/random/expensive home additions (like how people will have bowling alleys, movie theatres, closets with museums of shoes, car display rooms, spa rooms, wine cellars, etc. in their mansions) - what three would you choose?

[burymagdalene]

Crazy Little Thing Cold Love - S. Reid x Reader

Where the fierce cold brought by their holiday with the team to a ski lodge leads reader and Spencer to seek warmth in more ways than one in their room. Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader Genre: Fluff and Smut (18+ pls pls) tags: softdom!Spence, fingersucking, dry humping, lots of messy kissing, fingering, oral (fem receiving), handjob, piv sex, overstimulation (I can’t help it), praise, fluff, of course, they love each other big time! wc: 6.1k. a/n: I genuinely did not think more than 20 people would read my last (first) fic, I was smiling ear to ear and stalked everyone who liked it basically. I hope this isn’t too long. I don’t know what the fic length sweet spot is. Anyway, I was imagining our pretty boy in the Alaska episode 5x21 while writing this. MERRY CHRISTMAS YA FILTHY ANIMAL

Despite not knowing how to ski, when Spencer invited you to join him and his team for a quick holiday to a ski lodge in Colorado, you nearly melted in excitement. 

You’re over at Spencer’s apartment, bag readily in hand, watching him try to find outfits for this occasion. “Well.. I’m not going to be skiing, so I think regular clothes will be fine, hm?”

“Just bring a couple sweaters or something, that’s what I did. And a swimsuit.” You comment as you lay on your stomach on his bed, scrolling through your phone. Spencer takes his head out of his closet to spin and look at you.

“I didn’t even think about that. Of course. Thank you.” He mumbles and walks to his dresser, unsure if he even has swim trunks here. In his bottom drawer he digs through ridiculous ties and socks he’s forgotten about and begrudgingly finds the only swim trunks he had since highschool.

You scoot your body towards the end of his bed, leaning your head over to look at the way-too-short purple swim trunks he’s holding up with an unmistakably gloom look on his face. “Oh… you have to try those on. Right now.” You request through giggles. 

Spencer stands up slowly placing the trunks in front of the trousers on his legs to see how the size difference from a pre-pubescent Spencer contrasts to now. How badly he’s about to be humiliated in front of his coworkers. 

It’s nothing too horrifying, just blatantly un-Spencer in a way that has you both laughing at the ridiculousness of it. Seeing your boyfriend in short shorts has yet to occur! Regardless, Spencer slips off his slacks and pulls the shorts over his legs, jumping to put pants on for the first time in his life.

Spencer does not look bad. The shorts are too high up, he has probably grown about 6 inches since he picked these out. The tag is still on, he’s never even worn them. They sit nicely fitted on his upper thighs and he has his hands covering his face laughing as he shows you. In an over exaggerated manly voice you laugh out a “do a little spin for me hot stuff” at a groaning Spencer.  

“Babe,” Spencer laughs “I cannot be seen in these. In front of my highly respected team as well. In front of… Morgan.” He begins to take them off and throws them into his duffle bag anyway. 

“Noooo you gotta. Plus it’ll probably be just the two of us in the hot tub or whatever at a time. We’re not all going to be sitting in it together. At least I hope not…” You giggle a bit at the image. You have to give Spencer props though, him a few years ago would’ve cancelled his RSVP or purposefully left the swimsuit at home leaving him to a trip of staying in a random log cabin reading. 

It’s not for a case, so the team does not have access to their own plane, making it so that you and Spencer are doomed to wake up at 5am to meet everybody at the airport. You give out multiple sleepy sidehugs, unable to believe how equipped everyone is at waking up at unbearable hours. With this though you are able to sleep through the flight from D.C. to Colorado just fine using Spencer as your pillow. 

The ski lodge made you gasp when you arrived. Snow that was not present in D.C. covered every inch of the area; two levels of wooden panels lead to a huge snow slope behind the lodge. Through many “ooh’s” and “aah’s” it was finally revealed that only Rossi, Hotch, and JJ knew how to ski. Though, Emily and Morgan were equally as interested in learning from the best. This left you, Garcia, and Spencer to inside activities; watching your friends ski, groaning at lack of cell service (Garcia), reading, and the wonderfully heated pool and hottub that rested on the porch overlooking the slope. This, of course, made everyone squeal. 

Rooms were doubled up and you and Spencer unpacked your bags chatting with Morgan who was leaning against the doorway regarding ski tricks.

“If you’re so uncoordinated and haven't touched a slope in your life, why would you care about how skiing can aid astronauts mobility?” Morgan questioned Spencer's rambling about astronauts who have experience with skiing and had an easier time walking on the moon. 

“Well I’m not walking on the moon anytime soon either I just think it’s fascinating that cross country skiing-”

“What is that?” Morgan interrupts Spencer when a sweater covering his trunks in his bag gets put away, revealing the tiny purple fabric. You start giggling as Spencer sighs. Morgan walks into the room and picks them up from his bag. “What does this sweet girl have you wearing for her, Reid?” He teases.

Spencer definitely grabs them from his hands “Nothing! I got them when I was in highschool, I don’t go swimming a lot.” He sighs and looks down at you shaking his head as if to say “what did I say?” without speaking. 

Morgan relents seeing Spencer's face redden a bit. “Ah, pretty boy, well, this look might be good for you, I can’t wait.” He exits laughing after ruffling Spencer's hair. 

Spencer plops down on the bed next to you, scooping you in his arms. “This better be the most heavenly hot tub I’ll ever experience…” he sighs into your neck. You wrap your arms around him too, running your nails softly over his back and whisper back “Oh stop. You deserve a break, it will be.”

Later that day after playing a few rounds of Spades, everyone decides it's time to face the cold, put on gear and ski. Or watch them from the patio. It’s amusing even though you have no concept of how they’re going down with such elegance. It almost looks too easy for them. You have two sweaters on and a ski coat. Apparently, coming out with one sweater and a coat was so offensive to Spencer that he made you tack on another layer. “You’re the coldest person I know, please add another, baby”. Spencer, who was bundled up himself, pleaded as you spun around on your heels to redress yourself without protest because you know he’s right. 

With your chin tucked into your hands, pressed between Penelope and Spencer, you all take on the roles of pseudo-Olympic commentators to pass the time. The horrible butchered transatlantic accent coming from you all worsened by the warmed eggnog held between cold palms. Spencer eagerly grins as he sees Morgan stumble a bit in his boots, “Yikes, not a good start for Morgan, whose first Olympics is this year. Now wait, wait, it is down to the wire but…YES, it looks like Morgan has gone for the gold and succeeded. Such a momentous moment in the young athletes career-”

Penelope slaps Spencer's arm, doubled over laughing at the fake news anchor voice he has adapted for this role he has put on. “Stop, stop, he’s going to get mad at you!” You all wipe the smiles off your faces and put on fake serious ones as Morgan trudges back up the slope, looking more suspicious than if you had just kept laughing. He shakes his head in disappointment towards the three of you.

All sort of tipsy and numb from the cold decide to go back inside. The rigorous ski activities today coupled with the early morning, causes the rest of the team to head to bed early. You and Spencer run towards your room at the same time, pushing past each other in the door frame as you try to stumble into warmth. 

You slide your coat off and plummet to the ground to turn on the space heater with a speed as though it was a bomb you had 3 seconds left to disarm. You put your hands near it to warm them, looking up from the floor to Spencer who is smiling down at you from the bed. He silently motions with his head for you to sit over by him.

Whining and pulling yourself away from the heater, you get up and stand between Spencer's slightly open legs. He places his arms behind him and slouches back on his palms to get a better look at your face from where you’re standing. He tilts his head innocently to the side and squints at you. “Is somebody too cold? I would’ve never guessed that…” 

Scoffing and pulling your arms around yourself to conserve heat you mumble back “Noooo… I mean. Just my hands. Hah, they feel like they’re made out of molasses.” Spencer gives a mocking sort of pitied smile up at you, which you ignore by the good graces in your heart. He shifts his weight back onto one hand and slips one of his chilled palms up the front of your sweater to your waist. You wince at the juxtaposition between your flushed skin under your layers and his icy hand. 

You grab his wrist from under your sweater with an icier hand. “Don’t… torture me.” You beg at him. He furrows his eyes together and pouts, as if the idea of removing his hand from the curve of your waist would drain all the blood from his veins. Spencer hums and takes it off anyway, sitting up straight and taking both of your wrists into his hands, placing them together so he can cover your hands with his, moving back and forth to spark some friction into them.

The heat starts quickly from your fingertips to your wrists and you hum in content. Spencer whispers a “Yeah, you’re okay,” in response. “Your hands are freezing, I’m sorry angel.” Very malleable from the sweet heat you’re finally getting, Spencer continues to move your hands so that your palms are facing his face now. He kisses your fingertips softly, the warmth from his mouth makes you let out an almost silent moan. 

“S’that nice?” He looks up into your eyes, you still standing there like if you moved all the heat you’ve accumulated on this spot of the floor would vanish. You nod breathlessly. Spencer smiles at your response, not wanting to tease you further, preferring the flush in your cheeks his warmth is supplying you over his taunting. He begins to press more soft, slow kisses over your fingertips, moving your hands at his will by your wrists. 

Then there is a progression to open mouth kisses on your palms, he bends your hands down to kiss over each of your knuckles, eyelids open and trained on your face. Spencer rubs his cheek on the back of your hands and moves them again so the sensitive skin of your inner forearms are facing him. Rolling up each sleeve of your sweater, he coos at the goosebumps that raise from the air on your newly exposed skin. The kisses start from your wrists up to the crux of your inner elbow. You get a second round of goosebumps from a different source now.

You let out a rush of air at the sensitivity picking up on your arms from his mouth, from the cold. Spencer places one last kiss on your arm and nips the inside of the sensitive skin there. At this you can only make a pinched face and mutter out a simple, “Spence.”

He can’t help but grin at your placidity, he’s used to your sharp tongue, but this evening you’re nothing but soft sounds and looks. Your goosebumps soon fade as he rubs your arms up and down a few times and slides each of your sleeves back to their rightful places. “Warm?” He questions finally.

Truthfully, the space heater has kicked up enough that you don’t feel like your life's on the line anymore and you on the outside are just as warm and fuzzy as you are feeling on the inside. Still, being doted on is never something you would allow to run short if you have any say in it. “Mmm… my fingers just can’t. Get warm?” You don’t even believe yourself.

Spencer decides to take pity on you anyway through the “woe is me” act you’re executing poorly. “Ahh. Pesky things. Let me try something.” Spencer picks up your right hand again with the delicacy of picking up a butterfly and places your fingers against his lips again. This time though as he’s looking up at you and cupping your hand with both of his, he positions your middle and ring finger down so that they’re the only two pressed against his lips.

Starting off, he kisses them like before, sickly sweet, only with your warmth in mind, then ups his ante a bit. With a small parting of lips, Spencer's tongue tentatively pokes out around the fingers. He’s testing the waters. Easily, you give an eager nod of approval. 

Another hum falls from Spencer's lips as he takes your two fingers, to the second knuckle, deeper into his mouth. Sucking your fingers now and staring up at you, you shuffle yourself closer to him, straddling his legs and resting your other hand against his shoulder for purchase.

Spencer’s hands slip from yours and find a place under your sweater again, and this time you let him with no complaints. You take your hand from his shoulder and cup his jaw gently with it, guiding his head back slowly, allowing him to take in more of your fingers. Spencer sucks them gently and moans around them when your fingers grip his jaw a bit too hard. You drop the hand that’s grabbing him. One has to be careful not to bruise the jaw that’s sucking their fingers. Something like that.

Letting go with a gentle pop, Spencer takes a breath of air and pushes his face up to meet yours in a wet kiss. Your wet fingers cup his face as he takes your bottom lip between his teeth and tugs. 

“Mmpf-” You groan, pain spreading lightly in your mouth now. You briefly think of your first kiss, how feather-light it was that you hardly even felt him there with how tentative he was. After all this time you’ve enabled this boyfriend of yours to use his teeth to nip you like a territorial kitten who is privy to love biting. 

With an open mouth you kiss him hard in a rebuttal that has him smiling against your lips. “Hmm, don’t groan, you’re not going to break,” he wraps his arms around you fully, moving his mouth to your ear now, “helpless little lamb-” his voice gentle despite his mocking candace. 

You don’t feel like baring your teeth, fully satisfied with allowing Spencer to push your buttons until he inevitably notices your novel docility and rewards you for it. You know him like the back of your hand. 

Wrapped in his embrace and legs open over top of him there’s an instinctual need in your brain needing you to grind down on him and a more voluntary decision bred from embarrassment that is saying too soon too soon. In the crossfire of these conflicted thoughts your thighs concoct an awkward shaky squeeze motion and immediately lift up from him. 

“Going somewhere?” Spencer says in a pretend-serious tone before snickering at you once you silently sit back down on him. He understands you just as well as you do him and slips the arms that are under your sweater to brace your hips against his. “Is this what you wanted? You can take whatever you want from me.”

Sitting back down to where you were previously on his lap you card your fingers through his hair. “How chivalrous…” you murmur against his lips before you open your mouth to kiss him again. You have learned how to utilize time being spent while kissing Spencer over the course of your relationship. Rather, you have learned how to kiss each other in a way that signals immediately to the other that you’re needing this to progress past dry humping. The way your lips are slotting together and the way he’s pulling on your lips with his is a blaring sign. 

After you let out a shuddering sigh while pulling away for a breath, Spencer uses this opportunity to usher you so that your back is flat against the bed and he’s resting his arms around your head on top of you. With one of his hands against your cheek and the other caging your head in you easily slip back into the version of yourselves that tremble with need, this desperation not well suited for either of you. Intolerable.

Spencer’s thigh is regrettably too far away for you to grind yourself against and in order to shake the throbbing at your center you wordlessly take his hand by your face and bring it down over your jeans. He takes the hint immediately cupping you so you can grind against his hand through the thick fabric. 

He likes to pull away for this part. Spencer stops kissing you so that while he’s rubbing your clit through your pants he can hear your unoccupied mouth moaning while he kisses along your jaw and neck. He thinks of it as a cheat code really, he gets to keep kissing your skin while simultaneously hearing your progression from moans caught in your throat to small whines and begs.

Surprisingly, Spencer is the first to break and ask for the fabric barriers to be discarded, which makes you proud because you’re the one who’s the most impacted by your (basically) industrial grade jeans prohibiting you from feeling your boyfriend's fingers against you. 

“Baby, these are killing me,” He’s already moving above you to unbutton your jeans and shimmy them down to around and off your ankles. “I promise I’ll keep you warm.” In all honesty you’ve forgotten about the biting wind outside and the slopes of snow toppling over, but you appreciate the sentiment regardless. The idea that being cold will genuinely stop you from having him inside you right now is laughable.

You sit up and take off your sweater and undershirt as Spencer is working on your lower half. Working as in mouthing over your cunt through your panties as you struggle to unhook your bra at the visual.

Your legs are parted, thick white socks still up to your shins, and once Spencer threw your jeans to the ground he laid between your legs to kiss and lick over your panties. You keep fumbling with the clasp whenever he sucks or kisses over your clit. Not the most efficient moment of your life. “J-Jesus, I can’t get this off.” You huff and break him out of his pussy-induced stupor. 

Spencer comes up from between your legs and shuffles over and unclasps your bra with such elegance that you can’t even comment on it because you know he’s boasting over it in his head. Instead you pull over his sweater and shakily unbutton the top half of his button up shirt while he works on the bottom half. Your hands briefly meet over his middle button and he kisses your forehead with a smile as he pops the last one open for you both. 

His own slacks are thrown off alongside yours on the floor and you both grab at each other to take off one anothers underwear in such an eager manner that you have to laugh at each other for a moment before finally sliding them off. 

Spencer guides your head with his hand behind it as you slowly lay down besides him. Knees propped up and together, he places one of his hands on the outside of your thigh, gently running his fingers tips up and down the skin. “Why don’t you go ahead and open up your legs for me?” He asks between petting your leg.

Now, he must notice that it would be too easy for him to open them for you, like he so naturally comes to do. He’s coaxed your thighs open, held them down from the backside of your knees while you squirm from his lips sucking your clit, pushed them together and to the side when you’re squeezing his sides too tight while he’s fucking you. There is something delightfully humiliating about spreading them open yourself. So eager to display for him the shiny wetness that has been coating you for a demeaning amount of time, like gifting him a bashful merit badge for his effortless work.  

You look up at him through your lashes, his eyes are fixed on the softness of your lower belly, waiting for the moment you start to move so he can see your sex being revealed the instant you do it. Pervert. Taking one of your hands away from the bed you trail it slowly from the bottom of your ribcage to the very part of your stomach that has Spencer transfixed. Teasing yourself and Spencer simultaneously, you push your hand between your closed thighs, still hiding yourself slightly, and dragging up some of the wetness you collected with your first two fingers.

This time your fingers go into your own mouth, sucking off the taste of yourself while you watch Spencer mouth breathe and the tip of his dick start to dribble. Poor thing. “I love you.” He whispers into the air, incentivizing you to just do what you’re told. 

Embarrassment flushes your chest as you part your legs for him, putting both of your arms lazily above your head, finally rewarding him with saying “I love you” back once your thighs are on opposite sides from each other and your pussy is on full display. 

He shuffles closer to you on his knees, arm reaching out to softly run his hand on the inside of your thigh. “Look at you… can I touch?” Spencer’s asking like he doesn’t know if he doesn’t you’ll die.

“I’ll die if you don’t.” He should get where you’re coming from. He smiles meekly to himself, proud, or maybe just plain excited, and spreads apart your lips with his fingers. Your toes curl in on themselves as he slides his middle finger through you, spreading your wetness and mulling your ache. It’s almost too much to watch this near-inspection and you turn your flushed cheeks to the side and look at how his dick is a matching shade of red to your face. You love this part. Tangible evidence to how he feels about you, not that you need any more, but seeing right in your face how being with you makes his thighs tense and cock heavy puts a smile on your face.

With two fingers now he’s collecting the sticky soft wetness that never stops collecting in times like these, and rubbing your clit with them in such a gentle way you scoff out a “Please-”

Immediately he gives in, he’s not a professional at avoiding your begs even when it's looking like he’s going to be in charge. Pressing his fingers harder against you he rubs faster circles onto where you’re pleading for it. “Being so bossy. We haven’t even started.” He quips, trying to gain back some of the fervor he has for being in control, not just sit back, be a good listener, and give give give. 

Your clit throbs helplessly against his fingers. Wanting them harder and faster, wanting them inside you, in your mouth, against your throat, you can’t help but whine at the possibilities montaging in your head. Spencer watches a small dribble of white essence leak from you, mutters a “Jesus” to himself and slides his two fingers off your clit to inside of you. You choke on your moan, not expecting to be so full so quickly, it’s perfect. Spencer isn’t teasingly fucking you with his fingers. He knows how to curl them, he does so. He knows to put his forearm into it in the way that makes you stamp your legs shut. He’s fucking you quickly and easily with them as you bring your hands over your face.

“There, Spence.” You mumble against your hands, biting the skin of your palm to be courteous to everyone else in the house right now.

“I know.” He pushes against that spot in you that’s made you cry and rubs with a pressure made with love. You buck your hips and let him get away with whatever he wants to do with you, but the noise coming from his fingers in you makes you want to float out of your body. 

Brows furrowed and head pressing back against the bed your hips start to twist, with a mind of their own, turning over onto Spencer's hand. This part you can’t control. “Mmm, Spencer. Okay, okay, fuck.” You’re bargaining in your own way, for something neither of you know, but Spencer figures out every time. He slips his fingers out and places them on your clit again. Wet and pruned from being inside of you, he can move fastly against it as you gasp.

“I wish you could see what I see right now. So wet. You’re about to ruin these sheets the first night, baby.” He laughs gently at you. 

“Th-then stop touching me.” You bite back. Immediately scared of the idea of him following through. 

Spencer would literally never do that. He rolls his eyes a bit and furrows his brows at you when you make eye contact. He hums and adds a third finger to rub circles against your clit, two not being enough anymore for a precise massage with how wet you are.

Moving slowly back flat against the bed, your pelvis gives up on trying to crush Spencer’s hand underneath them. When his other hand trails down to fuck you while he rubs your clit you look for a way to thank him without bringing humiliation to yourself for years to come. You feebly grip the base of his dick, palm fairly loose around him as he’s currently milking all of the strength from your limbs. 

Spencer plainly laughs at this, it’s so you. He’s making your brain leak from your ears and you can only pump him lightly a few times. The one instance where you two have tried to 69 this story ended a similar way, with his tongue doing unspeakable things while you can just moan around his dick and wetly kiss it. It’s hard to do things while he’s fucking you. 

You huff, wanting his pretty leaking dick to be getting the same amount of attention as you are. Keeping your one hand on his base to keep it from bobbing, you reach over with your other hand to rub his tip, smear himself all over the sensitive top. He’s stopped laughing now.

“Please don’t make me cum right now.” Spencer pleads softly as he starts to quickly rub your clit from side to side now instead of the circles he was doing before. Fuck, talk about a competition. Your back arches up from the bed as your hand falls limply from where it was on his tip.

Wanting to inform Spencer on how you can’t jerk him off while he’s touching you so he should just start fucking you properly is not a sentence in your capabilities right now so you try your best with a “fuck me fuck me fuck me.” Doesn’t leave much for interpretation.

He slows his fingers and pulls them away with a sad “sorry, angel…” after glancing at your sour face from the lack of stimulation you’re getting now. He slips off the bed entirely to grab a condom from his bag, and throws it on your stomach for you to open after his fingers slip trying to tear the wrapper himself from your wetness still on his fingers. 

Fully situated between your legs again now Spencer looks up at the ceiling briefly while you roll the condom on him as if saying a prayer for composure before he’s inside of you. You can’t help but smile at this as you start to rub him between your legs, grabbing his attention back onto the task at hand.

Whenever Spencer first slides into you, you have to make sure to keep your eyes open to watch his face since he nearly always wears the same angelic face that you never get to see elsewhere. His mouth becomes a small “o”, his eyebrows are furrowed together, but not like he’s squeezing them down, they’re pulled up in a blissed out expression as his eyelids flutter closed. Heavenly.

He’s got one of your thighs in his grasp and he’s pushing it up against your ribs as he begins a steady pace with his hips against yours. There’s strings of your slick attached to his upper thighs from your inner legs rubbing against him. Maybe you are making too much of a mess out of these poor clean sheets.

After his initial haze of trying not to come instantly, Spencer brings back down his right hand to continue flicking your clit back and forth with his wet fingers. You bite down on his shoulder to keep from terrorizing your housemates. Your propped up foot, still covered in your warm socks, thuds softly against his back as the other one grips onto the sheets. 

“Feel nice baby?” Spencer asks into your hair as you bite down onto him.

How he could ask you this is beyond you, though you suppose he’s indirectly asking you to feed into his praise kink. “You feel so perfect Spence,” you whine against him. “unhhh…might be a bit too obsessed with your cock” you slur and laugh a bit at the end, not sure what will do it for him. Nevertheless he lets out a choked whimper and loses his rhythm. Bingo. 

His weight is pushing you down so you can’t wiggle away from any of the stimulation he’s giving you. It accumulates quickly and, just laying there and taking it, you don’t get enough time to warn him you’re close. You weren’t close really, it felt good and then you came. Sucking in air through your teeth your thighs squeeze around Spencer, who is murmuring “oh baby…” into your ear. 

You want to kick him for how good he’s making you feel. It feels unfair and you want to throw a tantrum based on how his fingers are still rubbing your twitching clit and how much you love the feeling of drowning in his pleasure. You’d never throw a tantrum though. Right now, Spencer has caught you in a completely willing mood where you’re closer to proposing to him than anything.

It’s dizzying. Your mouth is wide open in shock as you let him touch you into overstimulation and you don’t even realize it till he lets go of the vice he had on your leg and brings his free hand to put his thumb into your mouth. Latching onto it immediately, you use it as a buffer, a gag, to prevent yourself from making too much noise or mouthing off. You bite down a little on the digit and drool rolls down your lips to your chin. Spencer takes his thumb out, collects it, and pushes it back into your mouth.

Spencer reverts back to rubbing your clit back and forth with his middle and ring finger, losing purchase a few times with how wet you are, but finding his way back to your sweet spot just as quickly. You feel the second orgasm building this time around. Your eyes shoot open, you suck softly on his thumb and he looks back down at you, recognizing the pleading look in your eyes.

“Yeah. Y-yeah, angel. S’a good girl-” he gives his sort of permission and you cum so hard you don’t realize he’s finishing right behind you. 

He’s petting your hair with his hand, both wet from either your cum or your spit and you try to shove that complaint out of your head because of how sweetly he’s moaning above you as he finishes. He’s done cumming but he tends to keep sliding into you after, not ready to give up the whole experience yet. This is when you hear his prettiest sounds.

You cup his cheeks and kiss all over his face and he softly smiles and finally pulls out of you, laying on his back and scooping you on top of him. Tracing a finger over his lips softly you whisper how impossibly good he always makes you feel, how he gets you so wet that you didn’t even know you had that much in you till the tips of his ears go red and he pinches your side. 

“Open for me.” He asks one more time after shaking off the blush that has accumulated from your praises. You smile and open, finally sucking off what’s left of yourself from his fingers. He pops them into his mouth after yours without a second thought and you cannot believe this is the man who gets the heebie jeebies when he has to shake hands with someone new he meets. They should be the ones hesitant to shake his hand with where they have been.

Both feeling ridiculously sticky, you shower together, not even bothering to unpack your toiletries, just using the too-lemony-smelling products the lodge has provided you with for free. Spencer washes your hair for you so you don’t even need to complain to him about how he’s dirtied it and you both trot back over to the bed with fuzzy robes on. 

You cover your face with your hands at the unmistakable wet patches all over the sheets and Spencer collects them quickly and pops them into the washer. 

Exhausted, you both lay side by side on the barren bed as you wait for the sheets to be done. Mumbled against your lips a proposition, “I want to see you in that hot tub.” He clearly feels bad for the goosebumps littering your torso that he’s subconsciously been trying to rub away for the last twenty minutes after you left the heat of the shower. 

Blinking blankly at him for a moment in silence you purse your lips, “I was thinking about the hot tub too.” The thought of removing yourself from the room that has cold leaking back into it from the lack of physical activity now is thrilling.

Spencer laughs and sits up next to you on the bed. “Everyone is so exhausted from waking up early and skiing all day that we will be all alone so I thought now would be a good-”

“Yeah,” you nod your head enthusiastically at him. You can’t remember the last time you were in a hot tub and it sounds like a dream right now. “Let me get my suit.” You both wobbly stand up and you retrieve your swimsuit from the drawer, laughing while you toss Spencer's trunks back at him. He’s so blissed out from the sex that he doesn’t even mention the trunks, he just slips them on and heads out. 

You make Spencer step onto the freezing porch first after you demand him to take the cover off the hot tub for you both, this was his idea after all. Watching from the glass door you blow your breath onto the glass to draw a little heart with an “S” inside of it in the fog. Spencer blows you a kiss in return as he skimpers out in his purple trunks and enormous ski coat.

The alternation between walking out in a swimsuit in that ungodly temperature, into the hot jets of the hot tub feels like whiplash, but once you’re fully submerged you giggle happily and sway your hands under the water.

You and Spencer play footsie under the water like two lovesick teenagers at a pool party as you look off the balcony at the snow. You nudge him under the water a bit before talking,

“Thank you so much for bringing me to this, seriously. I feel like we’re on our honeymoon.” you joke.

Spencer hums and takes your hands into his, rubbing the outside of your hand with his thumb. “Mmm, well on our actual honeymoon I’ll probably have to take you somewhere warm to avoid all this teeth chattering.” He teases back at you, but his words have an underlying sincerity that makes you sink yourself down into the water to your chin with a smile.

“You’re gonna marry meeee,” you respond in a sing-song voice, Spencer grins back for a moment then looks at you and nods earnestly. 

“How could I not?”

[revasserium]

Pining Zoro and blind-to-it Reader?

un-certainly

opla!zoro; 3,422 words; fluff fluff fluff so much fluff, straw hat!reader, fem!reader, (seeminlgy) clueless!reader, lots of pining, banter, teasing, smitten!zoro, the whole nine yards

summary: in which everyone knows zoro's got it bad for you, except for you, of course.

one.

“so… i should just… talk to her.” zoro says uncomprehendingly, blinking at an exasperated nami, who has to take a long, steadying breath to keep from shoving him overboard. the waves beneath them are calm, the day above them, a gorgeous, endless stretch of blue so brilliant it almost pains the eyes to stare.

nami resists the urge to pinch her nose bridge as a dull ringing starts to echo in her ears.

“yes. sweet god — just go up to her and say ‘hey, i think i might like you’ and i guarantee you, things will go from there.”

zoro shifts his tightly knitted arms, squinting at her as if she might be lying or purposefully luring him into a trap, “go? so there’s a chance it could go badly.”

this time, nami really does drop her face into her hands, groaning loudly.

“well there’s always a chance it could go badly —”

“sounds like a bad idea to me.” zoro looks away, eyes still narrowed as the light sea breeze ruffles his hair, a colony of news coo squawking loudly overhead, one of them dropping down to careen towards the going merry, landing on the thick white railings next to them, ruffling it’s feathers as nami pushes off to dig in her pocket for some berry.

“oh! newspapers here!” your voice makes both zoro and nami jump, and a second later you’re bounding up the stairs to the forecastle deck and stuffing some berry into the news coo’s bag. your arm brushes by zoro’s as you lean over to offer the news coo a piece of dried shrimp, which it considers for a second before leaning forward and gobbling up.

nami gives zoro a soft shove from his other side, leveling him with a meaningful look before turning and making a show of going to check on her tangerine grove.

zoro doesn’t have time to glare before the news coo takes off with a pat-pat-pat of wings, leaving you and him very much alone on the sunny fore-deck. he purses his lips, casting about for something to say even as you hum happily to yourself, your arm still painfully close to his as you unroll the newspaper and flip though, blissfully unaware of the inner turmoil of the man standing next to you.

“uh — anything interesting?” zoro asks, desperate for something, anything to fill the silence.

you shrug, “nope… just the usual — uptick in piracy along the coast, tightening of marine patrols…” you turn and cast him a grin that makes his stomach twist inside him like a contortionist from buggy’s freakshow.

zoro clears his throat, thumbing absently at the hilt of his swords before taking a deep breath.

“hey — uh…”

“hm?” you turn towards him, with your wide attentive eyes and your stomach-curling smile.

zoro blinks, his gaze flickering from your soft button nose to the way the wind twines its fingers in the loose strands of your hair. two twin pearls glitter from the lobes of your ears and he feels the tension melt from him as he sucks in another breath.

just say it, nami had said, just tell her.

really, how hard could it be?

“i uh — there’s something i wanna talk —”

“wait, hold still,” you say, your eyes going wide as you lean forward suddenly and zoro’s visions tunnels in around him — you’re close, closer, too close/too close/too close!

your fingers card through his hair and he has to bite back the shiver that rockets down his spine as you pull your hand back with a black-tipped feather.

“the news coo left you a present,” you say, laughing as you offer him the feather.

zoro considers it for a second before taking it from you.

“it could’ve left worse,” he says, recalling the few times that he’d gotten bird shit in his hair.

you giggle; the sound makes him want to scream but instead, he settles for clearing his throat again.

“now, you make a wish,” you say, nodding towards the feather in his hand.

“never heard of that before,” he frowns slightly, “thought you could only wish on dandelion seeds and…” he waves at the endless stretch of sky above you, “shooting stars and stuff.”

your smile is so wide that zoro thinks his cheeks might start to hurt for you.

“haven’t you heard that rules are meant to be broken?” you ask, offering him the feather again. he looks at you, then at the feather, and the back at you.

“okay — i wish —”

you squawk flapping your hand, “no! you can’t tell me what the wish is! otherwise, it won’t come true!”

zoro smirks, cocking an eyebrow, “i thought rules were meant to be broken?”

you blush the most darling shade of red and he decides to take it easy on you (and, honestly, himself). so, he plucks the feather from your hand and closes his eyes, making a soft, silent wish. a wish that, in truth, he’d been making since the moment he met you.

when he opens his eyes, it’s to find you staring.

“kay. now what?” he asks, rolling the feather between his thumb and forefinger.

“now…” you gently tug the feather from him before opening your palm and letting the wind whisk it away, “you let the sea take your wish. and if you’re worthy, it’ll grant the wish for you!”

zoro lets out a breathy laugh, “if i’m worthy? and how’s it supposed to know that?”

you lean in, and if it were anyone else, he might’ve been annoyed, but with you, somehow, he finds himself charmed.

your voice is conspiratorial as you whisper, “because… the ocean knows all the secrets the sky can’t keep.”

two.

at dinner, with you by his side, usopp detailing some imaginary adventure, nami laughing, sanji blowing smoke rings towards the middle of the fire-lit deck. your cheeks are pink from the wine everyone is passing around and for a second, you bump into him and turn — he turns towards you too —

your eyes catch like unsuspecting fish to a bobbing hook and zoro feels his stomach tug as you grin up at him, the night sky caught in the flutter of your lashes.

he can’t help the way his gaze flicks down to your lips, and then back up again.

“feel like sharing?” you ask, nodding towards his half-finished bottle.

wordlessly, he hands the bottle to you and watches as you bring the mouth to your lips and take a long drink. he tracks the soft bobbing of your moon-lit throat and feels his own mouth go dry at the sight.

across the fire, sanji watches with a growing smile and nami rolls her eyes.

“oi, moss-head — mind if i take a swig too?” sanji asks as you hand back the bottle, dragging the back of your hand across your lips, and zoro turns to pin sanji with a glare.

“get your own,” he says, before polishing off the rest with a few hard sips and tossing the bottle into a rapidly growing pile.

zoro licks his lips and tries not to think about the way your lips had fit around the bottle just right; he tries not to wonder if you’d taste like wine. or, if he’d even have the mind to think that far if you were to let him kiss you.

three.

“… and then, you pull it through… like this?” you slowly bring your arm through a swiping movement, your hands clutched around the hilt of a wooden training sword. zoro sighs, shaking his head.

“uh — not quite — here,” he pushes off from the barrel he’s sitting on to circle around behind you, wrapping one hand around both of yours, the other palm curling around your middle to press against your stomach, “you’re breaking in your waist again — keep your core tight and —” he helps you swing the sword through in a swift arc.

“oh.”

it takes him a second to realize how close you are, how he can feel your entire back pressed against his entire front, how perfectly you fit into his arms, how easy it’d be to hold you to him and never let go.

“so just… practice that a few hundred times,” he says, stumbling back as his cheeks go hot and he feels the inexplicable urge to toss himself into the calm, saltine waves below, if only to cool down just a bit.

“will you practice with me?” you ask, your smile wider than the sky is wide — zoro is sure.

he blinks at you for a second before making a show of sighing and rolling his eyes.

“ah… i guess i could use a bit of practice too.”

he pulls out the wadou ichimonji and takes his stance next to you.

“ready?” he asks.

you nod, glancing over and adjusting your posture.

“okay, how many are we doing?”

zoro casts around for a number, “a thousand.”

“zoro!”

“five… hundred?”

you cast him a look that makes his stomach flip inside him.

“how about we start with a hundred, and then i’ll see how i feel from there?”

zoro clicks his tongue, smirking, “i could do a hundred in my sleep.”

you make a show of rolling your eyes, “fine then — go take a nap!”

zoro huffs as he clears his throat, “right then — let’s start — one, two —”

you squeak as you hurry to catch up, jumping as he reaches out a hand to correct your posture.

up on the foredeck, luffy watches with usopp by his side.

“hey! i wonder if zoro would teach me sword tricks if i asked!”

usopp sighs, clapping luffy on the back even as he shakes his head.

“uh — not that i think he wouldn’t but … maybe you should just… let them do their thing, yeah?”

four.

“i think you really should tell her,” luffy says, slapping zoro on the shoulder, a bit harder than he’d intended. zoro winces, pressing a palm to his chest — still sore from their recent raid.

“i don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

luffy laughs, leaning forward against the railing, “nami said you’d say that.”

zoro fights the urge to scowl as he sighs, his eyes narrowed at the damnably calm horizon. at least if the weather weren’t so nice, he could make up an excuse to leave but ��

“really, what’s the worse that could happen?” luffy asks.

zoro grunts, shooting luffy a sidelong look, “oh i don’t know, she doesn’t feel the same and shit gets awkward and —” he waves a hand at the going merry, “the crew falls apart.”

thankfully, luffy doesn’t pause to call him out on for once not denying it.

instead, he lets out a contemplative hum, “hm… yeah, that could happen. but… i don’t think it will.”

inside his chest, zoro’s heart clunks, strange and uncoordinated.

“why? she say something to you?” he can’t keep the curiosity from his voice, the stomach-squeezing anticipation he’d only ever associated with the heat of battle and a really good fight. but now, he feels it whenever you get too close, and he wonders if he can go insane like this — if one day his heart might just give out.

“nope!” luffy’s voice is too bright, too cheerful, and zoro feels himself rolling his eyes before he can stop himself, “i’ve just got a feeling!”

“a feeling.”

“yeah! and — have a little faith! the straw hat crew isn’t that fragile.”

with that, and another hearty clap to the shoulder that leaves zoro hissing in pain, luffy clomps off towards the kitchens, where sanji is already doing dinner prep. zoro lets out another sigh as he straightens, carefully stretching his arms to test the range of motion.

above him, a flock of migratory geese fly southward in a soft, arrowhead formation. zoro holds up a hand to shield his eyes from the sun as he watches them pass overhead.

a single feather flutters down towards him and he finds himself reaching out to catch in the palm of his hand.

a wish, huh, he thinks, twirling the feather between two fingers before casting around to make sure no one else can see him. satisfied that everyone else is either too far away or below decks, zoro closes his eyes and makes a wish —

alright roronoa, please. don’t fuck this up.

five.

“ahem.” zoro clears his throat after dinner, making a point to down a couple more drinks than usual. he’s never been one to believe in liquid courage, but… it couldn’t hurt, right?

“can we, uh, talk?”

you smile a smile that threatens to crack his chest wide open, nodding.

“sure! what’s up?”

across the room, sanji visibly stills but nami catches his eye and shakes her head ever so slightly.

“c’mon… not in here,” zoro says, jerking his head towards the hallway that leads to the decks above.

“what’s got you so secretive all of a sudden?” you ask as he leads you all the way up to the crows nest, reaching down to help tug you up, letting his hand linger in yours as you grin up at him.

“i’m allowed to have secrets,” he says, turning to stare out at the darkened sea, the summer moon hanging low and full-bellied over the glittering waters, the stars winking like so many all-seeing eyes.

“we all are, but… i thought we’d gotten all your big ones after that one night the whiskey bar —”

zoro coughs, “alright, alright — don’t need to bring that up again.”

you laugh, leaning forward to pillow your cheek against your crossed arms, propped up along the edge of the crows nest.

“so? what’s this new secret, then?”

zoro swallows, “uh — wouldn’t exactly call it new.”

“alright then, an old secret.”

“not super old, either —”

you turn to look at him, half-exasperated, half-amused, but when you catch sight of his expression, you still, pressing your lips.

“zoro? is… everything okay?”

he ticks his tongue against his teeth and lets out a long breath, as if bracing himself for something before he says —

“yeah. i think —” he clears his throat again, trying to recall what nami had said about just saying it and he tries again.

“i think i might like you.”

the coil in his chest feels tight enough to snap, but you’re quiet as he turns to steal a glance at you.

“oh,” you say, you expression curiously contemplative as you look out over the darkened seascape.

zoro has to physically stop himself from shaking you by the shoulders — say something, goddamnit! say anything!

“so…” he says, knitting his arms across his chest instead.

you turn towards him, your eyes bright as twin stars.

“you think you might like me, right?” you ask, and for a second, zoro can only blink down at you, completely thrown by your lack of reaction. of all the things he’d imagined you doing — everything from getting angry to apologizing to throwing yourself at him with an impassioned speech about how you’d felt the same since the beginning — this was not one of them.

“uh… yeah, pretty sure that’s what i said.”

you cock your head, a quick, bird-like gesture that makes zoro’s heart skitter inside his chest, threatening to leap from his mouth as you continue to stare up at him, completely unabashed.

“ah… so what do you think we should do then?”

zoro stares, “… do?”

“yeah, because if you’re not sure if you like me… we should do something to make sure, right?”

and it’s then that he sees the soft, playful uptick of your lips, the glittering darkness behind your eyes. the tension in his chest seems to loosen even as he lets out a breath, chuckling before quirking an eyebrow and taking a step towards you, caging you in against the crows nest’s edge.

“mm. you’re right — i can think of a few things we could try, though.”

“yeah?” you voice is little more than an exhale on the wind, but it’s the last thing zoro tastes before he finds his lips on yours.

as far as kisses go, zoro would later think back, it was a pretty damn good one.

it started as a slow kind of kiss, a soft, unfurling of breath on breath, and then lips on lips. the ghost-friction of promises made and kept and unbroken, the first spark to a fire that had been threatening to consume him since the moment he’d heard you laugh.

and then — just like that, he’s kissing you. and you’re kissing him back, the gravity and inevitability of it making his head spin even as he presses in closer. it is sweet and warm and trembling — soft and hard and deepening. he runs his tongue along the seam of your mouth and savors the way you gasp open for him.

just him.

he swallows it like he wants to swallow you, reaching up to sink his fingers into the silk and gossamer of your hair, pulling you so close he can feel your heartbeat thrumming against his chest, your nails as they curl into the linen of his shirt.

it takes everything inside him to pull back, and everything else left not to dive right back in again. you’re both panting, a little breathless, and zoro — a lot relieved.

“so…” you say, your tongue flickering out to lave across your bottom lip.

zoro doesn’t try to stop his eyes as he tracks the spine-tingling motion.

“so?”

you grin, biting back the shiver that chases through you at the deep, base rumble of his voice, echoing from his body to yours.

“what’s the verdict? have you decided if you like me yet?” you ask, batting your lashes even as he watches your own eyes drop down to his lips. a dark, warm, purring satisfaction curls inside his chest at the way your pupils dilate, black as the night, bright as all her favorite stars.

“hm,” zoro hums, leaning down to skim a knuckle along your jaw, slowly guiding your face towards his again, “dunno… jury’s still out… might have to try it a few more times. y’know… just to be sure.”

“mm…” you sigh as he leans down to graze his teeth along your pulse point, fingers tightening around your waist as he feels you tremble in his arms, “y-yeah… wouldn’t want you to be —” you hiccup as he sinks a soft bite into the juncture of your neck and shoulder, “uncertain.”

“no…” and his voice is all groan and gravel as he lets himself breathe you in, “we certainly wouldn’t want that.”

bonus.

far below, beneath the decks of the going merry, sanji takes a long pull from a post-dinner cigarette, his lips twisting into a concerned sort of frown.

“it’s been a while since they’ve been up there. think we should go check on them?”

luffy shugs, still happily picking at the remains of the turkey carcass sitting in the middle of an oblong plate.

“they should be okay — i mean, they say that no news is good news, right?”

“uh, not sure that applies to this kinda thing,” usopp says as he makes to peak out of the nearest window.

nami swirls her drink, “i think they’re fine. and we’d hear if zoro threw himself off the crows nest, right?”

across the table, sanji blinks and luffy pauses in his munching.

“whoa, you think he’d really do that if she rejects him?” usopp asks, his face going a little pale.

nami rolls here eyes, “no.” and then a moment later, “but really, we’d hear him if he jumped, right?”

luffy licks his lips, shrugging, “dunno, probably though. he’s pretty heavy so he’ll make a pretty big splash.”

sanji taps a bit of ash into his empty bowl and lets out a long suffering breath.

“yeah, y’know really, no news is good news.”

[v3lvieraven]

𝐁𝐢𝐠 𝐬𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐳𝐞

(Riddle, Floyd, Leona, Malleus, Lillia)

Synopsis- reader tends to give really big and tight squeezes similar to Floyd whenever they hug/cuddle/get excited

Warnings- cursing, mood swings (Floyd), accidentally pushing away (riddle)

𝐑𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞

•he collared you for the first time

•this didn’t really do shit though considering you have zero magic.

•takes him a second to realize then un-collars you!

•After a few times of him lying through his teeth about not liking it, you figured you should stop.

•But those squeeze times had found their way into his schedule, literally.

•so when you stop squeezing him it messes his schedule up! Which is absolutely unacceptable.

•usually he wouldn’t straight up tell you his feelings but his poor poor organized schedule was falling apart! And all because you stopped the squeezing.

•“Why aren’t you doing the squeeze thing anymore?”

•You opened your mouth to answer but seeing his unusually upset expression you kept it shut

•With a shake of your head you bring him into your arms with a big squeeze.

•”Awww you like my squeezes!”

•”shh… you have three hours to make up to me”

•that meaning he made you squeeze him in bed for three hours (after his already busy schedule)

𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐲𝐝

•he fell in love the moment you squeezed him.

•obviously it wasn’t as tight as he does it.

•but he still loves it nonetheless!

•he definitely pouts whenever you arnt squeezing him. Which makes it very inconvenient for Jade and you.

•he’s very clingy though, but if he saw you squeeze someone else, even if it was in a friend way. He gets so jealous!

•when you went to give him a squeeze a few hours after he saw it, he probably would yell at you.

•He has really bad mood swings so it’s not surprising but it didn’t hurt any less.

•depending on your personality this could go two ways-

•first way: you give him space

•he would be more aggressive towards everyone at first.

•Azul and Jade had begged you to calm him down but you stood your ground.

•not wanting to cross his boundaries.

•but after he gets his anger out one way or another, he realizes he royally fucked up.

•Definitely starts crying and finds you, drags you into a bed, and squeezes you. VERY HARD.

•ends in you either passing out or he falls asleep.

•second way: you wait like thirty minutes and give him another squeeze

•after about thirty minutes he should have probably calmed down

•other than his pout and occasional muttering he is actually holding onto you for dear life.

•both ways he bites you tho.

𝐋𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐚

•HE IS LOVIN IT

•When you found him in the botanical garden asleep you thought this was the perfect time to cuddle with him

•momentarily forgetting about your habit

•it woke him up, he probably hisses at you, even when he realizes it’s you.

•Almost shoved you off until he notices that he really likes this.

•often orders Ruggie to escort you to him whenever he is in a bad mood or a squeeze mood.

•I’m gonna be honest I actually can’t imagine if he were to get mad at you for squeezing him, ironic considering his temper

•like Floyd he can and will bite you to get what he wants.

•he flops on top of you often and demands it with light insults.

•Maybe you should try squeezing him whenever he overblots that might work.

•soon finds out he can’t really sleep without the pressure around him.

•one night when you were on a small trip somewhere he couldn’t sleep, so he tried to squeeze himself with his tail.

𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐮𝐬

•craves it more than anything.

•please don’t stop. He will actually cry.

•he’s really touch staved, so whenever you show up and squeeze him, he returns the gesture

•thinks of it as a human way of expressing love

•which it is to you.

•he’s so adorable, you can’t understand why anyone is Afraid of him. Of course he can be scary but not to you

•He also cries when you do squeeze him, but out of happiness. So either way, if you do or don’t, he will still probably cry.

•Sebek scolds you a lot because you started this and now he often gets really mad and causes thunderstorms.

•sneaks into your dorm and kicks grim off the bed and onto the couch

•poor grim :(

•Sometimes when he’s had a particularly bad day and he needs to unwind he will come to you. Which usually ends up with him letting out some of his more dragon features.

•Not fully though, unless you are okay with him destroying a bit of your dorm house.

•overall he loves you dearly, wouldn’t trade this for anything at all.

•please keep going!

𝐋𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚

•he teases you all the time for it.

•the first time though he was genuinely surprised but wiped that expression off his face VERY quickly

•he sleeps upside down so sometimes he will ask you if you wanna stay upside down with him and do your thing

•most of the time your squeezing sessions will turn into play fight or tickle session instead

•he gets really giddy when it happens

•don’t be fooled though, he will threaten anyone you squeeze.

•also might curse them or something but you don’t need to know that!

•He’s smitten for you though, and even when it sometimes doesn’t feel like it because of his playful demeanor, he truly appreciates these moments with you

•might sometimes mutter things under his breath before he falls asleep in your arms.

• “don’t let me go..”

• “your squeezes are mine…”

•he means the second one in all seriousness though.

•this is one of the most vulnerable times when he is too sleepy to keep his silly facade

•not saying he isn’t silly naturally, but sometimes he covers up his problems with his cuteness or calm demeanor.

•He’s usually not as silly when he’s not with you, but again, sometimes he uses it to cover that he is hurting

•so please don’t call the things he is saying at the moment “silly” because he means them with his whole heart.

•just keep squeezing and reassuring him, and he will open up!

Note- totally not based off the fact I squeeze ppl when I hug/cuddle

[hoshigray]

It’s been almost a year, and I still can’t get ex-husband! Toji out of my head…

꯳⃘꤫⃛✿ contents: Toji x afab/fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - anal - backshots/doggy style position - fingering (f! receiving) - clitoral play (swiping) - [un]protected sex - creampie - pet names (baby, mama, sweet thing) - Toji loving on your body, even though he shouldn't be - mention of excess cum.

“What in the world are you doing?”

“What’s it look like I’m doin’?”

Tsumiki and Megumi weren’t at the house yet — the children were still busy at school with extracurricular activities. Ex-husband! Toji, the dutiful and responsible adult he is, swore to pick his kids up once the hour hand reaches the sixth hour and the minutes nearly touch the thirtieth number. In the meantime, he stays at your home, where you call up a pizza dinner order for the children to eat after a long day before returning home with their father. However, while the youngsters are away, the black-haired man takes the time to do what he does best: pester you with his company. 

“Like you’re about to stick your dick in my ass.”

“And if I am?” He sneers, teeth peaking under the deft scar of his lips. “Y’re the one that said y’r pussy’s off-limits.”

You lift your brow as your ex-spouse spreads your legs, sitting with his knees atop your bed in your room in your abode. Do you really want to be doing this, letting this brawny man strip you off your bottoms and unzip his jeans to free the erection poking under his boxers? You have to bite your lip to conceal the smirk you share with him, watching him rip the wrapper he pulls out from a pocket and screen his cock with a rubber. 

“And why are we doing this again?” Forest green eyes flick from your lower region to your face, having to suck in the gasp creeping into your neck. 

He scoffs, “Because we’re killin’ time.” Wrong: You were already killing time by reading and replying to emails on your bed, under the impression that this grown man before you could spend his leisure time watching sports highlights or something in your living room. Clearly, Toji had a different proposition. “What, can’t spend a few minutes with ya while the kids are away?”

You roll your eyes with a smile. “Last time you tried to spend a few minutes with me—“ A cold sensation near your entrance has you pucker involuntarily, Toji pushing the covered glans of his cock. “We missed Tsumiki’s soccer game by thirty minutes.”

“Still made it, didn’t we?” 

Had to fight rolling your eyes the second time. “Only one time.” You hit him on the back with your foot when he grins. “One time. And don’t—Mmmph!” Finally, the cockhead is inserted into your hole, stretching it with his girth as he pushes it inch by inch carefully. “…Make a mess, either.”

And you know he heard you perfectly well, a curt nod and a whisper before seizing your lips with his, “Yes, mama.” Sure, he can be a bit of a hard-headed dickhead, but his attentiveness is as strong as a titanium. Therefore, you can instantly trust him — an ex-lover you would depend on and rely on if it could come to it, and of course, you’d do the same for him and his kids. 

…But not as strong as his playful stubbornness as the man drills his raw cock inside your ass. 

“Dahhh!! Ahhh, fuck…God, this ass…!”

“Nnnmm! T-Toji, I said ONE time!!”

You should’ve known it would end up like this — the two of you were already glued to each other from the excess amount of come that coated his dick, burrowing to and fro from the innards of your rear channel. His firm hands grab hold of the flesh of your butt, and you can only grip the sheets beneath you while your face is smooshed to your pillow. 

God, you had a feeling this would happen, knowing that your ex-husband is the type to get all riled up like this and steer off course. Would’ve been best had you put your foot down when you had the chance; however, it’s too late now that you’re mewling under his bow, all desperate from his balls smacking onto your skin. 

“Good God, baby,” he exhales with a smile, massaging your butt in loving kneads, observing how his girth disappears inside you. Fuck, you looked too good, making his whole body itch with want. “Can never get over this sweet ass of y’rs.”

“Tojiiii…!!” His name leaves with shrills; you sense him bending down to your ear, and the added weight of him from behind makes you feel caged and submissive. “Shtoop it, we can’t…! Gotta st—Ooop!”

“Y’don’t want me doin’ that, sweet thing,” he murmurs to your ear, breath hot to your cold helix and lobe. “Can tell ya want this just as much as I do with—shit—how twitchy y’re bein’ right now…And, maybe here…Heh, thought so,” his chuckle, so close to you, has you moan with flat lips after he sneaks a hand in between your thighs to palm your vulva, fingertips teasing the lips of your vagina and feeling it pulse at the touch. “Can tell how excited y’ are fr’ me. Y’re twitchin’ so much, baby.”

“—Mmmff, b-because, you’re making—Hnnmm!!” You nearly wobble at his fingertips swirling circles around your clit, trembles forcing you to quake as he gently pinches and swipes the pearl. While Toji drives his length slowly yet precise, the tip grazing your wall so much you howl cutely. “F-Fuuuck, so good, Toji…right there, right thereee…!”

Toji coos, “Shhh, relax, baby,” kissing your ear as his fingers glide to your folds; you can’t stop spasming, so many senses putting you through an overload! “Right here, sweetheart? Ya want me here?” The tip of his forefinger taunts the opening of your cunt, and you can’t take it anymore!

“Oh fuck, yesss,” you turn over your shoulder to plead. “Please, stick them innn, g-gonna cum, wanna cum on your fingers!!” 

Oh, that dialed Toji’s excitement more than expected, slipping his digit into your slick, and you scream aloud. “There you go, mama…” A free hand grabs your chin so he can claim your lips. You pepper him with kisses enthusiastically, your mouth agape for him to shove his tongue to dance with yours. All the while, his thick finger scrapes around to scratch your texture, and the pace of his pelvis grows staggering. 

With every rushed push and grind is another wiggle inside your chasm, struggling to hold your balance on your palms as the shocks become irresistible with more clamps of your asshole. You release, your body shackling with the wave of pleasure and your nerves keen to the highest point. You can’t stop whimpering, so overstimulated almost to the brink of tears.

And Toji is right there with you, feeling you squeeze him with your holes and whining as he sucks on your tongue and nibbles on it with sportive intent. You felt too good to him, clenching onto him like you could never let go, so it’s no wonder he’s seconds away from climaxing alongside you. Hot groans fill your space, passionate saliva keeping you both stuck as he pumps his load into your fluttering anus once again.

Tense bodies fall into tranquility as the seconds go by, and the trembles subside, smacking lips with each other as if lost in desire. Until you remove away from his scarred mouth with a hum, shamrock eyes hooded like yours before a fit of laughter is shared.

“You done now?” You inquire as noses brush up. 

Toji lifts a brow and looks to the side, faux pondering before smacking a rut to your butt again. “Mm, not really.”

“Oh, for God’s sake, Toji!” You move to push him off you, yet you underestimate how easily he can maneuver you to your back. “Go pick the kids up so they can eat and go home!”

“They’re grown enough to wait on me,” he snickers and cages your hands above your head. “As fr’ me, I don’t got another two weeks to wait.”

No bothering hiding your annoyance in your eyes, even if you permit him to kiss you again. “Hopeless as ever.”

He chortles. “Y’re one to talk.”

© HOSHIGRAY2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ⊹ dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more.

[babypudge]

Laying on your changing mat in a fresh and thick diaper, smelling strongly of baby powder and waiting obediently for a pair of big, familiar hands to snap up your onesie, you thought back to how it all started. He was the head contractor working on the addition to your house, but that hardly gave him the right to use your private bathroom instead of the outdoor “porta-potty” like the rest of the workers. Little did you know, as you threatened to fire him, that he’d been using much more than your bathroom over last month of construction. He’d been using your bed, he’d been using your partner, and most importantly, he’d been using your computer - the one with your secret photos on it. The same photos he sent out to everyone at work using your email address, effectively ending your career. Not to worry, he had the perfect position for you on his crew - Daddy’s Lil’ Dumper. Your primary tasks include: delivering heavy loads every morning, staying in your playpen and not making noise with your blocks when “Daddy” takes you with him on a job, remaining still for him while being strapped into your carseat to go see “Grandma”, not pulling on your walking reigns during site inspections with clients, “opening the hanger” for the “plane” in your highchair and anything and everything asked of you by the endless play-along baby shows he programs for you after “work.” Being the loving papa that he is, Daddy was happy to give you an employee discount on the addition (aka “the grown-up's room” you'll forever be forbidden from entering) as well as your new playhouse in the backyard. As for bathrooms, you never need to worry about making a fuss about them ever again. Daddy makes sure you have your own private, permanent “porta-potty” ready to use day and night - and it’s good thing he does - with just a few more months of on-the-job un-training, he'll have all of your control fully demolished.

[phossiii]

｡𖦹°‧⭑ monsters: chapter one

synopsis: you are introduced as the arkham imported member of the creature commandos. and a certain irradiated skeleton can't seem to catch a hint.

cw: reader is a monster, mature themes, profanity, innuendos, phosphorus is phosphorus, tame chapter

"And I have this question, for all the woke feminists out there..." the man-child on the screen emphasized, turning toward the camera. "Why do only girls get such cool waterfalls?"

Flag cringed, brow raising with disappointment at the infantile argument.

The hell was the world coming to?

"All over the world, our rights as men are being denigrated—"

Having heard enough, Waller cut the feed, eyes slyly gliding over to the general for his response.

"What a bunch of clowns," Flag scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Dangerous clowns," Waller corrected, standing up from her office chair and moving toward the door. "Pokolistan is a friend of the U.S."

"Countries don't have friends."

"After your decades in the military, General Flag, I think you'd understand that true friendship is built on petroleum deposits. Especially un-mined ones in a backward-ass country that's never take advantage of its natural resources."

Leading him out the room, Waller started down the hall, exiting the corporate section of Belle Reve and entering an elevator that lead to the lower levels.

"Princess Ilana Rostovic, the heir apparent to Pokolistan, is already negotiating with the U.S for that oil," she continued, the digital screen showing that they had descended well past the basement. "And if she's overthrown by some nut-job in a witch's hat, all bets are off... We need to help Rostovic."

With a soft, digital ding, the elevator doors opened, revealing a heavily bolted and locked door with the words NON-HUMAN INTERNMENT DIVISION written in bold right above it.

Flag's brow nearly shot through the roof.

"I thought Congress put a stop to all Task Force X facilities since your daughter outed you?" he asked, suspicious.

"Technically, Congress said A.R.G.U.S can't use incarcerated human beings as mission operatives any longer," Waller corrected, typing in the password on the keypad before leaning in for the retina scan. "But what about beings that aren't human?"

"Huh?"

Entering the control room, the general was met by a multitude of screens and officers, along with a five-foot thick, Plexiglas window peering into the common area.

Warily, he approached it, and what he saw on the other side forced his eyes wide.

"What in the holy hell?"

Beyond the bolts, locks, and iron walls sat five different... creatures, each one more odd-looking than the last.

"This is Bell Reve Non-Human Internment Division," Waller introduced in a monotone. "For over fifty years, only those at the uppermost levels of security clearance are aware of its existence. By using these prisoners, I think we can arguably circumvent our new restrictions."

"Arguably?" Flag scoffed. "How?"

"Congress said we can't use human prisoners. These assholes aren't human."

"She's not a human?" he asked, nodding to the large, stitched up woman leaning against the wall.

"Is a corpse human?"

"Who is she?"

"We don't know," Waller shrugged. "We call her The Bride."

Nodding, the general turned his attention to the skeleton playing Jenga.

"Who's Jason and the Argonauts?"

"A sociopath who calls himself Dr. Phosphorus," she confirmed. "He has irradiated skin he can use to burn through people and objects."

"Well, how does that radiation affect the people around him?" Flag asked, concerned.

"If you don't sleep in the same room with him, the effects should be minimal."

"Minimal?"

"Consider it a free vasectomy."

Just then, the mutant-dog-thing sitting at the center of the room began to cough, violently, hacking up what looked to be leftovers of the day's lunch before licking it right back up.

"What is that thing?" Flag asked, disgusted.

"The Weasel," Waller answered. "It's one of the few soldiers still alive from Project Starfish in Corto Maltese. So we know it has what it takes to survive."

At the comment, he hushed up, looking off to the side with guilt.

"Sorry... I didn't mean to intimate about your son, Flag. When he died in Corto Maltese, he died a hero."

"That one looks like a discontinued dishwasher," he quickly changed the subject, pointing to the metal man sitting across from Dr. Phosphorus.

"That dishwasher killed over three-hundred Nazis in World War II. I would've dismantled it, but I thought it might come in use some day," Waller nodded. "It's known as G.I Robot."

Turning her head, her eyes trained on the meek girl sitting in the corner, who looked like both a woman and a fish.

"Next one is Nina Mazursky."

"What use is she walking around in a fishbowl?"

"Get her in water it's a different story," she answered. "She's the smartest and most reasonable of the bunch. She might be able to help you keep the rest of them in line."

Wearily, she let out a sigh, turning to one of the officers and sharing a knowing nod.

"Especially with the last one."

Raising a brow, Flag glanced back through the glass, confirming that he had been briefed on all the prisoners.

All the ones present, at least...

"There's more?" he asked.

"Imported fresh from Arkham Asylum," Waller nodded, typing in another passcode on the control panel in front of her before the door let out a resounding, harsh blare. "She passed the psych eval, though Batman was vehemently against her release."

Flag watched carefully as the doors slowly opened, two officers emerging from the shadows and revealing you, bound and gagged by a straight-jacket and bite restraint muzzle.

Instantly, his eyes shot wide, and he took an instinctual step back, disbelieving of the sight before him.

"Is that a...?  She's a living, breathing—"

"Demon, for all intents an purposes," Waller finished, unbothered. "The product of a satanic sacrifice gone wrong. (y/n) (l/n) was born with the devil get-up, and an affinity for fire magic."

Below, sat you with long, (h/c) hair, bright red skin, equally bright horns, a pointed tail, and sharp, slitted, yellow eyes. 

"I figured since we're up against a witch, why not fight sorcery with sorcery."

They forced you to sit on a dolly, feet chained to its surface, clasped so tight that it rendered you unable to move or struggle.

As if there wasn't a grenade in your brain-stem preventing you from going anywhere.

'Bastards...'

Lifting your head, you surveyed the area, taking note of each face within the freak show.

A Frankenstein rip-off...

A walking beam of cancer...

A man-dog...

A scrap heap...

And the Introvert from the Black Lagoon...

'Woulda done numbers in solitary.'

As Amanda Waller and General Rick Flag surfaced from behind you, Frankenstein, Cancer, and Man-Dog of the Ghoul Gang charged forward, launching an attack.

An attack... that was quickly thwarted with a good shock to the brain.

With loud shouts of pain, all of them, including you, stopped dead in your tracks, dropping to the ground in an instant.

Though, just as quick as it came, it left, by an act of somewhat mercy from your warden.

"This is your new task force, Flag," Waller stated, tossing him the detonation switch. "Let's call it... Task Force M. M for Monster."

"You bitch..." you growled, weakly lifting your head. "I wanna talk to the Bat... This was not part of the agreement..."

"I'm afraid Batman had no say in the matter," she stated, still completely unbothered. "You want back into your padded cell? You get this job done."

Sharply, she lifted your chin, your fiery eyes meeting hers, cold and unfeeling.

"Do I make myself clear?"

"So... you're really a—"

"Yes."

"Does that mean there's a—"

"Yes."

"Does that mean you've seen—"

"No."

"Did your mother... y'know... with a—"

"Are you fucking stupid?"

You turned to him sharply, brows furrowed and eyes blazing with annoyance and fury.

He had been at this since the goddamn helicopter took off...

"Whoa, there, doll face," Phosphorus raised his hands in defense. "Don't shoot the messenger. I'm just sayin' what we're all thinking."

Though, that was only half of it.

In actuality, Phosphorus hadn't been able to rid his thoughts of you since the COs rolled you into the facility.

He had never seen anyone like you before—devil-like, dripping in both beauty and danger—never felt so entranced, intrigued, or turned on, either.

Emphasis on the turn-on part.

Your battle-wear was a zip-up, black leather jumpsuit with the pant legs torn off, paired with finger-less gloves and thigh-high, multiple buckle boots.

The zipper perfectly exposed your cleavage, making your chest look large and perky while the shorts put your legs on delectable display, outlining the very grab-able flesh of your thighs.

That, along with your black aviators and the cigarette hanging out the corner of your mouth, made you something out of his best worst nightmare.

And someone he wanted to get to know significantly better.

"Keep it to yourself," you spat, sizing him up. "I'd rather listen to a stuck goat."

"'Cause of sacrifices or...?"

"Say one more word, cancer stick, I swear to God—"

"Can you even really do that? Y'know, 'cause of the whole demon thing..."

"Fucking moron!" you growled, igniting your fist with fire before sending a punch straight for his face.

"Hey! Knock it off!" Flag barked, forcing you to stop mid-way, the whole squad turning to him with slight surprise. "I know you all aren't exactly enthusiastic about this mission. But—"

With a roll of her eyes, Bride let out a groan, already checking herself out of the conversation.

"General, I believe you've read us wrong," Phosphorus corrected, acting as if your flaming hand wasn't inches away from his face. "We're delighted to be here, and delighted to serve our country."

"Okay... uh, great."

As the irradiated skeleton faced forward, you dropped your fist, sharing a confused look with the Bride.

"Are you smiling?" you asked him, raising a brow.

"Yes."

"Sarcastically?" she added.

"Mmm-hmm."

You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest and leaning back in your seat, allowing your eyes to drift over to the man-dog.

He was harshly gnawing at his restraints, letting out whimpering noises of fear

"G.I Robot is detecting unease. Could he be, G.I Robot asks, in fear of being discovered as Nazi scum?" the scrap heap stated, retracting his hand and replacing it with a gun.

"No," Flag assured, pushing away the weapon. "Put your arm... Put your gun down. He's not a Nazi."

"Child killer, though," Phosphorus shook his head. "Not a great look."

"Supposedly, he had a bad experience the last trip he took on this Osprey, that's all."

Glancing out the window, the Bride's eyes widened slightly, before she turned to the general.

"Are we in goddamn Pokolistan?" her brows furrowed, arms crossed over her chest.

"You've been here before?" Nina asked with a smile.

Bride rolled her eyes with a sigh, leaning back in her seat, "Fucking hell..."

"So..." Phosphorus started up again as he turned to you, thankful his skeleton-ness hid his shit-eating grin. "Is��everything red... or just what I'm looking at right now?"

SMACK!

"Ow!" he played off, his grin growing even wider as he rubbed his cheek.

Adorably, you turned away, flipping him off as your one leg crossed over the other.

Now he was really intrigued (and turned on).

You were feisty.

He liked that.

He liked that a lot.

[raven-cincaide]

Post-Canon! Megumi is a university student. His friends think he needs a break from all the curses and fighting so he can finally heal. Yuji says its a chance for Megumi to find the person who'll Megumi want to live for. Nobara says that even if he doesn't find anyone, they've already sacrificed so much; they need some kind of backup plan in case they ever need to leave the front lines. In truth, Yuji and Nobara just want to spend their youth exploring normal human things, and Megumi honestly can’t fault them. He doesn’t understand it but he doesn’t want to be left behind. So he tags along because.. well.. what else is he supposed to do?

Post-Canon! Megumi doesn’t know what to study. So he picks up a little bit of everything. He creates a schedule that fits his self-applied expectations and overachieving tendencies, going well above and beyond full-time studies. He keeps his mind occupied so he doesn't have to think about how hard it is to blend in, make new friends, and be human. (Un)fortunately, Yuji and Nobara don't let him avoid the campus life forever. 

Post-Canon! Megumi builds a routine he finds satisfactory which includes studying, gym, late night parties and nerdy book clubs. Hell he picks up anything that makes him forget about curses and being a sorcerer. He promised himself he would be 'normal' while at uni and he promised his friends. University life may not be Megumi's calling but he wasn't about to let his friends down. So he does everything to avoid things that would tempt him back.  

Post-Canon! Megumi notices you the second you enter one of his classes. He can tell you are a sorcerer and instantly determines he doesn't want anything to do with you. He tries to make himself invisible, hunched down, reading a book. Despite his closed body language, his eyes flicker over to you occasionally, although he quickly catches himself and goes straight back to reading. 

Post-Canon! Megumi is surprised when you approach his desk- one of the few remaining seats near the front. How you politely ask if you can sit beside him even though he doesn’t own the seat makes him unsure, fascinated, yet flustered. “Sure”, he replies, then a second later, grabs his bag, stands, and walks out of the class minutes. He leaves minutes before the start, skipping his first class ever. He knows he’s being rude; he knows he undoubtedly embarrassed you. But he can’t get mixed up with Jujutsu- not when he started liking uni.

Post-Canon! Megumi swears he sees you everywhere and avoids you like the plague. Yet his eyes always seek you out, and his brain takes note of every little thing about you, from the casual sweatpants and hoodie you wear to morning classes to how you’re dolled up at late-night parties. Your laugh, your make-up, the perfume you wear, depending on your mood- he notices it all. He feels all sorts of emotions when he sees you yet squelches those in the far back of his mind. No, he keeps his distance even as you get close to Yuji and Nobara. If you three are eating together, he’ll skip lunch, if you three are hanging out, he’ll cancel last minute. Sometimes, his friends let him get away with it- but more often than not, Yuji or Nobara see right through him and force him to sit beside you. And the awkwardness can be cut through with a knife. 

Post-Canon! Megumi notices when you’ve been out hunting curses. It’s the faint linger of cursed energy and the distinct smell on you that he pickles up. He notices when there’s a tiny limp in your step. He notices when you’re tired and when you’re practically burned out; the way your eyes drop during the teacher's lecture; the way you scribble down your homework mere minutes before submission, or the way you stress about not being able to buy the course literature before the first assignment is due by poking at your lunch and not answering Nobara. So he leaves his books out before going to the bathroom, knowing Yuji and Nobara will push you to take pictures of the few pages you need.

Post-Canon! Megumi swears he is done with being a sorcerer and that he doesn’t want to have anything to do with curses. Yet when he sees you stumbling out of your dorm room, in your jujutsu get up, barely able to keep your eyes open, he can’t help the pang of worry in his chest. He swears he is done being a sorcerer, even as his feet carry him to follow you.. 

[moonyswoony]

Lost and found

Pairing: Five hargreeves x reader

Summary: You an Five discover more than just plants and strawberries in the greenhouse

Warning(s): kissing, fluff, nothing really

“What the hell is this place?” Five muttered, his voice tinged with suspicion.

“Beats me,” you replied, stepping further inside. “But it’s not like we’ve stumbled upon a better place than this one so far.”

The two of you had been on the run for what felt like an eternity. Your attempt to figure out the subway had gone sideways—again—and now you were stuck in this strange, green timeline with no clear path back.

Five stayed close as you ventured deeper into the greenhouse, his sharp eyes scanning every inch. “This doesn’t make sense. None of this should be here.”

You brushed your fingers against a nearby vine, feeling the life pulsing through it. “Maybe this is just a small piece of the world that refused to die.”

Five huffed, the ghost of a smile on his lips. “That, or we’ve stumbled into some kind of twisted fairytale.”

“Great. Does that make you the grumpy old troll under the bridge?” you teased.

“If I’m the troll, that makes you the annoying adventurer who won’t stop asking questions,” he shot back, though his tone was more fond than bitter.

As you explored, you found yourself drawn to a patch of strawberries growing along the far wall. They were perfectly ripe, a vibrant red that stood out against the greens and browns around them. Without thinking, you plucked one and popped it into your mouth, savoring the sweetness.

Five watched with raised eyebrows. “You sure that’s safe?”

“If it’s not, at least I’ll go out with a decent meal,” you replied, plucking another and offering it to him.

He hesitated, then took it, biting into the fruit with a thoughtful expression. “Not bad.”

“High praise from you,” you quipped.

There was a brief, comfortable silence as you both absorbed the strange beauty of this place. The tension that had been winding tighter and tighter over the past few days—or even years—slowly began to ease, the peacefulness of this place working its way into your entire being.

As you wandered deeper, you came across a patch of wildflowers bathed in golden sunlight. You knelt to touch them, their delicate petals soft under your fingers. “This feels like a dream,” you murmured.

“Or a trap,” Five countered, though his voice lacked its usual edge.

You looked up at him, catching an unguarded expression in his eyes,something softer, more vulnerable than you were used to seeing. “Five?”

He stepped closer, the sunlight casting a warm glow across his features. “You’ve always been fearless,” he chuckled,though his voice was quieter than usual.

You blinked in surprise. “What are you talking about? I’m not fearless, I’m—”

“You are,” he insisted. “And I should have told you sooner.”

“Five…”

“I’ve spent so much time trying to fix everything, trying to keep us all alive, that I forgot there are things I want, too,” he said, his gaze pined on you.

His words hit you like a punch to the gut as you realised what he was implying—not in a painful way, but in a way that left you breathless. You had always known there was something between you, a connection that went deeper than partnership or friendship, but his words still had that affect on you.

Without giving yourself time to overthink it, you reached up and pulled him into a kiss. It wasn’t rushed or frantic, but slow and deliberate, a promise in every brush of your lips against his. Five responded in kind, one hand slipping around your waist while the other cupped the back of your neck, holding you close.

The kiss deepened, his tongue teasing your lower lip before slipping into your mouth. You felt your knees weaken as a wave of heat washed over you, your fingers gripping the front of his shirt as if to support yourself. His hand slid down your back, pulling you flush against him as the kiss grew more intense, more desperate.

It was a kiss that spoke of everything you had both been holding back,years of unspoken feelings, of missed opportunities, all coming to the surface in this one, perfect moment.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathing hard, your foreheads resting against each other as you tried to catch your breath.

“I love you,” he said, his voice rough but certain.

You smiled, your thumb brushing against his jaw. “I love you too.”

For a moment, you both stood there in silence, the reality of what you had just confessed settling over you like a warm blanket. The world around you didn’t feel as interesting anymore, not when he was in front of you.

Five glanced around at the greenery, his expression contemplative. “You know, we don’t have to leave right away.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You want to stay?”

“Just for a little while,” he admitted, surprising you with the softness in his voice. “It’s been a long time since we’ve had a moment of peace. We could use the rest and some proper food.”

You looked around at the lush greenery, the golden sunlight filtering through the broken skylight, and felt a sense of calm settle over you. “Yeah,” you agreed, smiling up at him. “Let’s stay.”

With that decision made, the tension that had been a constant companion began to melt away. You found a spot to sit, leaning against a wall covered in ivy, and Five joined you, his hand finding yours and holding it tightly.

For the first time in what felt like forever, you let yourself relax. No missions, no timelines, no disasters—just the two of you, in a place that felt almost unreal.

Five squeezed your hand, drawing your attention back to him. “You know,” he said, his voice low and teasing, “if we’re staying here, we might as well make the most of it.”

You grinned, leaning in to kiss him again, this time slower, savoring every second. “I couldn’t agree more.”

[princesssmars]

thinking of morning sex/sucking the strap with abby 😵‍💫 nsfw.

it was just like any other weekend, waking up to the light in your eyes and the soft sheets underneath you. the only thing missing was the familiar hand of your girlfriends arm wrapped around you.

checking the time on your clock, you figure she’s gotten up earlier to hit the gym to get some extra sets in. while you understand she hasn’t been able to workout much because of her schedule, you pout at not being able to spend a few extra hours with your girlfriend.

but you can work with with you’re given, deciding to give yourself a self care day. you take a nice bath, exfoliate and moisturize as needed, before putting on a nice new face mask you had yet to try out. it’s a nice morning of relaxation, interrupted at the shock of seeing abby walk into your apartment as soon as you enter the living room.

“jesus christ abby, you scared the shit out of me!”

“sorry, sorry!” she laughs, setting down some grocery bags on the kitchen island before rushing around to give you a peck, pouting when you eat your finger and point to the face mask. “seriously?”

“yes, seriously. what’s in the bags?”

her mood perks up again, going into the details of her morning, how she woke up about two hours before you did and wanted to rush and hit the gym to be back and make you breakfast in bed, but there was a backup because of an accident on her usual route so she had to find a different way but her stupid phone kept fucking up so she got lost and-

your hands find her shoulders and start to massage, trying to help her calm down as she rants while taking all the missing ingredients for your favorite breakfast out of the bag. she doesn’t notice as your eyes sweep over her body; the stray hairs flying out of her braid, the glow of her face from a post workout shower, the loose shorts you bought for her when her last ones got a hole. you try not to let it show on your face when you notice the slight bulge.

“anyway, luckily it’s still early enough for it be considered breakfast, so you can sit your cute self on that couch while i make these pancakes.”

god, she’s adorable. you can’t help but press a quick kiss to her cheek, loving the little smile she makes before you give her another, and another, before trailing them lower and down to her neck.

“baby, cmon, what happened to no kisses, huh?” her voice is breathy as she very pitifully tried to push your face from her neck, lashes fluttering at the subtle nip you leave on the last one.

“you’re so sweet, y’know that?” your compliment makes her flush like it always does, big girl so fond of praise but so shy about it. “always helping me and caring for me, wanna return the favor.”

she nods her head, breathing out a quick “yes, oh my god please.” when you tell her you need words. you make quick work of giving her some affection on her face, neck, and chest before dropping to your knees, slowly pulling down the waistband of her shorts and trying not to giggle at the way her eyes nearly bulge out of her face.

this was something neither of you had really talked about, but you could tell the blonde had wanted to try it since she’d heard about it. it’s made evident even further by the way her hips buck when you take her strap into your hands, spit dribbling from your lips and onto the head. you want to tease her some more but if there’s one thing you both have in common it’s that you can’t hear the other beg too long without giving in.

you can already tell this is going to quickly become a favorite of both of yours. it’s a repeating cycle of you getting off to her faces and moans like she can feel the toy down your throat, and her thinking she’s died and gone to heaven with the sight of you sucking her off.

while the phantom limb is so strong it’s a bit scary, every time you gently bring your face forward to deepthroat the strap it pushes up against her clit, bringing her closer and closer to her orgasm. her hands are twitching as they grip the counter, unable to grab your wrapped up hair or the sides of your face. but of course you can see her restlessness, gently guiding one of her hands to the back of your neck as the other grasps hers in a tight embrace.

she tries her best to be gentle, timing the thrusts of her hips with the back and forth motion she’s controlling of your neck. her minds running haywire as she admires the plumpness of your lips around her, your pretty eyes staring into her soul as you moan around her and holy shit-

your hands rake up and down her thighs as she cums, drinking up her moans and grunts and “love you, oh my god i love you”’s.

when you can tell she’s finally come down you slip her out of your mouth with a pop, biting your lip at the abundance of your saliva on the shaft and the visible cum running down abby’s thighs.

“you did so good for me, abs. but yknow if you would’ve just told me you wanted this earlier-“

“please stop talking, jesus christ,” her chest moves up and down with heavy pants, her palms covering her face. “i don’t even know how i’m standing right now. i don’t think i can make your breakfast right now. give me ten minutes.”

“the fact that you still want to makes me wanna suck you off again.”

“babe, please.”

you love mornings with abby more than anything. well, almost more than anything.

ong my sims twitter mutuals had her sims sucking strap so i thought of this. immmmm doing Normal.

[pedgito]

𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄, 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐍𝐎𝐖 | Joel Miller x reader

↝ other fics | requests? | ao3 | update blog | fic rec | ko-fi

summary | set in the world of handsome, dirty, rich. joel is celebrating your one year anniversary with a few surprises. alternatively: how fast can ali turn a new pedro pic into a fic? also, bless @undercoverpena —she set me on a dangerous path with this one.

content warning | sugar daddy!joel, reader has no description other than a vague mention of a dress, thigh riding, borderline public sex/voyeurism, the use of a certain undergarment for pleasure, fingering, established relationship, sneaking around, subtle dom!joel & brat!reader, pure filth i do not apologize, un-beta'd

word count — 2.7k

He’s rented out the entire restaurant. All for you.

It doesn’t dawn on you at first, but as the primly dressed workers attend to you at the door, carefully removing the coat off your shoulders while another guides you toward the table in the corner of the restaurant—the rest of the space was dimly lit, except here. The overhead light casted a warm but pale yellow glow down on the table. Two plush, leather chairs that you were sure cost at least half of your monthly rent—not that you paid that, either. Joel had made sure of that.

You tried to deny it in the beginning, to fend off his constant willingness to make sure you didn’t have to stress or lift a finger when it came to finances—that you could focus on your degree without any outside distractions. 

Your relationship was still something kept between the both of you, a sacred bond in a bubble that hadn’t been popped yet. It was perfect, too perfect. And you refused to give that up just yet.

“Really?” You ask, scrunching the dress up near your hips as you take a seat in the pulled out chair, careful that it wouldn’t ride up too high, but it seems futile as the moment you both hit the seat, Joel’s palm is settling between your legs. His palm curls around your left thigh, a comforting gesture he did whenever he had a moment to touch you—it doesn’t move, doesn’t linger too close or too far, it’s just there. You rub your thumb over his knuckles and smile. 

“I shoulda told them I wanted the center table, huh?” Joel joked, flashing that perfect smile, his cheek dimpling. “Only the best for my girl.”

“Oh, because the empty restaurant you rented out wasn’t enough?” The playful resonance in your tone makes Joel chuckle, but quickly fades as he sees one of the several waiters approaching.

He orders some fancy bottle of wine you can’t pronounce and you can’t help but stare. He’s so…dressed down, compared to you. A simple white shirt, black jeans that he’s worn on several occasions but always hugging his thighs in a way made your mouth fucking salivate.

You weren’t even five minutes into this date and you were ready to cut short and run, saddle up over his lap in the driver’s seat of his truck and sink down on his cock for a quick five minutes of pure bliss, feeling the full extent and intensity of his love for you in the way he let his guard down in those moments.

The second you’re alone he’s moving his hand from your thigh to the nakedness of your neck, sliding around the back and guiding you toward him, a surprisingly gentle kiss against the column of your throat followed by a soft, “Never enough, baby.”

God, he was in a mood today.

It was nearing a year of making…whatever this was official. It wasn’t asking for your hand in marriage or even to be his girlfriend, just a silent agreement that you both wanted whatever it was that you felt for each other, regardless of labeling it. And that was what worked the easiest for you both. You tried not to think about it too often, the outside distractions and betrayals you were allowing to happen when buying into his attraction to you.

But, right now, that was the last thing on your mind.

Joel does all the ordering—a three course meal of chef’s choice that came with a hefty tip.

So, they were very good at leaving you alone. Just as Joel had requested.

“Did you like your gift?” Joel asks after some time, using the cloth napkin to wipe at his mouth, peering up at you as he forks another piece of food into his mouth.

Gift. You huff a soft laugh through your nose behind closed lips.

“Oh, those—” You roll your eyes playfully, poking at your food with your fork, “yeah—of course.”

And you were absolutely wearing them, just like he asked.

A sleek, lace pair of panties with a matching bralette, but the very obvious bump of a vibrator tucked away in the gusset of your underwear was a dangerous, dangerous game. They didn’t come with a remote but you knew exactly where it was, watching the smile on Joel’s face grow more relaxed as he was on his third cup of wine, but somehow more drunk on the sight of you.

“Wearin ‘em?” Joel asks, just to be sure. “Like I told you?”

“Why don’t you find out, Mr. Miller.”

He hadn’t heard that in a minute, his tongue poking at the inside of his cheek as he reached blindly, but with careful precision for the remote in his pocket.

The buzz startles you at first, but it was faint. You could ignore it easily, so you did.

“Eat up,” You motion to him and his forgotten third-course, a too sweet dessert that neither of you could finish on your own, but you were willing to do anything to distract him, “don’t be rude.”

Joel quirks an eyebrow up and chuckles, “Mouthy tonight? Alright.”

It was a specialty of yours, knowing just the right amount of brattiness to get under Joel’s skin.

The vibration picks up without warning, Joel now leaned back in his chair, left leg crossed over right and his hands resting in his lap, pointedly placed over the obvious growing bulge in his jeans that he was attempting to hide.

You hand grips the table in shock, jostling the silverware slightly.

Another soft laugh from Joel and you shoot daggers in his direction.

“In public? Seriously?”

“We’ve done worse,” He shrugs, “remember that night down at the beach over the summer?”

You did. Very well, in fact.

He had fucked you so hard the ache didn’t go away for a week, right there, on the beach—a group of college kids partying not even less than 20 yards away. You knew they were watching and maybe it was the result of genuine, human curiosity. But, the whistles and shouts—it sent a bolt of excitement down your spine, causing you to squeeze around Joel’s cock as he pumped into you, coming inside of you with your face pressed into the sand.

It wasn’t your proudest moment, but damn did it make the ache between your thighs so much worse as the memory floods your mind and Joel seems to notice you becoming spacey, nudging it up a few more notches and that causes a seering look of warning, teeth gritting as you gripped for his thigh, blunt nails digging in while your other snuck between your thighs, gripping hard on your dress as you squeezed your legs shut against your hand.

“Come here,” Joel says as he beckons with two fingers, curling them in a way you were all too familiar with.

“Joel, not here—” You stress, looking around at the vacant restaurant. 

You couldn’t even hear them moving around in the kitchen anymore. You turn back to Joel and he’s still waiting, daring you as he scoots his chair back a few more inches. He offers a hand, gently removing the one gripping his thigh and you feel your body moving against your better judgment, so willing and pliant to his touch.

He maneuvers you until you’re straddling his thigh, hand gripping your waist as he forces you to take a seat, the broadness of his thigh, the taut muscle against the press of the vibrator as it forcefully dug into your already swollen clit. You gasp, gripping the tablecloth in desperation. 

“Go on,” Joel encourages, “right here—I already know what you want, baby.”

You used to think he only enjoyed the idea of you using anything but his cock to get yourself off, but you quickly realized that it was your favorite thing to do—it was the only time he got cockier than usual, more teasing, seeing how easily riding his thigh would unravel you. It felt primal, that need for release and it was building in your core, that tingling heat lingering in wait.

“If they come back—”

“They won’t,” He stresses, his voice gruff and low as a palm spreads out over your back, the other one finding its home on your thigh, so dangerously close to the hem of your underwear underneath the silk dress, “slipped them a note—”

“Don’t tell me you t-tipped them so you could get your fuckin’ rocks off in the middle of din—” Joel increases the vibration another level and your jerk, holding back the strangled moan that dared to escape as you cant your hips against his thigh, “fuck, Joel. This is—”

Joel shushes you, fingers crawling up your back until he can grip the back of your neck, holding it tight as he pulls you up, head falling back instinctively against his hand, “Ride it, sweetheart.”

You can’t help the subtle rock of your hips, eyes scanning the room anxiously—you’ve never been this intimate in public, at least not with the looming chance that anyone could walk in and see you; arms spread out to grip the table cloth and Joel’s hands all over you, leaning forward over his leg. The table provided enough cover that unless someone decided to step within a few feet, they couldn’t see anything. 

Still, your heart raced.

“Come on,” He teases, the subtle twang to his voice that had you clenching around nothing, the constant hum of the vibrator tucked away in your panties doing nothing to help quell the ache, “I rented out this restaurant for us, asked them to give us some privacy and you’re still feelin’ shy?”

“If someone were to walk by, Joel—”

Joel grips at your neck tighter suddenly, pulling you until his chest is against your back.

“I’ll turn that thing all the way up if I need to and it’ll stay on ‘til we get back home.”

His place, he means. He often called it home because it had become that to you. You had your own place, your own things, but you still found yourself there more often than not. A drawer in his closet tucked away with your belongings, your toiletries tucked away in a cabinet so Sarah wouldn’t ask questions. You’ve become masters of this game of hide and seek, managing to keep this entire thing quiet for close to a year.

Maybe it was just dumb luck.

He adds emphasis on his statement as his other hand slips between your legs and under the silk hem of your dress, palm pressing flat against your cunt and leaving you no room to wiggle away, hips jerking against his touch as you moan out, your hand slapping over your mouth at the sound.

“I’ll give you the next sixty seconds, baby,” Joel warns, glancing down at the shiny Rolex on his wrist, “if you don’t come, it’s gonna be a hell of a ride back.”

As if to make you suffer more, he slips a finger between the wet, sticky fabric of your underwear and over the line of your cunt, dragging through your slick and slipping a finger inside of you wordlessly, angling the vibrator stuffed inside the gusset of your panties against your clit with perfective precision—feeling the throb of your pussy around his fingers, the tight clench of your walls, you find yourself rocking against his thigh mindlessly, desperate to chase that relief.

You couldn’t breathe—the feeling caught in your throat as he lifted his leg only a few centimeters higher, foot raised off his heel, your dress slipping up slightly higher under his grip and allowing him a clear view of your ass, the delicious curve and the black lace that clung to your skin. He could pull his cock out and get himself off there within just a few minutes if he really wanted to and slip himself inside you right as he came, knowing how much you enjoyed being stuffed full of him.

“Attagirl,” He commends you, a grin growing on his face that you unfortunately can’t see, but you feel it—his gaze, the hot press of his hands on your body, “just like that.”

Your eyes fall closed, heading bowing as he releases his hold on your neck to grip at the fabric bunched at your waist, slipping his hand over bare skin, fingertips pressing into the flesh of your waist, aiding in the hurried rock of your hips. The feeling of fullness comes from his fingers when he slips in a second, squeaking out a quiet “Fuck,” as your hand slips, slapping against his other thigh for support, accidently brushing your fingers against the remote tucked away in his pocket and dialing up the vibrator to the max, unknowing that it was only a level off.

“‘’S right there, darlin’,” Joel softens his tone, picking up the pace of his fingers fucking into you, his grip on your hip tighter, undoubtably ruining his jeans for the night, but he clearly didn’t mind.

The feeling builds—the quick and constant stimulation does nothing to help, sending you flying over the edge with a gasp, crying out Joel’s name as he keeps you stuck, pulling out his fingers in an instant and turning off the vibrator, leaving you to wade through the orgasm untouched.

“There you go, baby,” He coos, “makin’ a goddamn mess on my jeans, aren’t you?”

You nod, feeling dizzy as your head spins and your body goes light, whining through the sensitive friction of the denim against your cunt and Joel slides a comforting hand up your spine, rubbing against the middle of your back.

“Still with me, baby?”

You nod quietly, raising your head up slowly.

Joel chuckles lowly, patting gently at your thighs until you turn sideways in his lap. He smiles softly at the disheveled state of you, much less composed than a moment ago.

“What was that about?” You ask after a moment of gentle care, his lips pressing against your neck, chin, before pressing against your lips in the most tame kiss he’s ever given you.

He’s checking in.

“Wanted to cross somethin’ off my list.” 

You raise your eyebrows in pleasant surprise, a small laugh bubbling from your chest as you adjust your dress over your chest, “A list? Like…for sex?”

Joel shakes his head, pulling his lips together in a nonchalant frown. 

“No—well, there’s some of that on there but…things I wanna do with you.”

“Oh,” Color you intrigued, you push one of his imperfectly styled curls back behind his ear, “care to share?”

Joel swipes a dollop of whipped cream on his fingers and shakes his head, “Where’s the fun in that, baby?” You shrug as he presses the cream to your lips and you open dutifully, allowing him to press the whipped sweetness against your tongue, mixed with the taste of yourself as you close your lips and suck just for show, kissing his fingertip teasingly as he pulls away and pinches playfully at your thigh.

You laugh airily, reaching for your phone on the table as you turn to him, pulling up your camera.

“Wait—you really have to see the look on your face,” Instead of keeping the dumbstruck look on his face, he brings his hands to his mouth in the act of blowing you a kiss and you snap the picture with a smile, letting out a startled yelp as he tips you back slightly, nearly into the table as he angles your body to allow his lips to touch your ear.

“Take those off,” He tells you, “otherwise I’ll be tempted again.”

“No self control, Mr. Miller?”

Joel catches your chin between the thumb and pointer of his left hand, cutting off the small giggle that starts to escape your mouth and his eyes are pensive for a brief moment before softening, “Do as I say, darlin’. We got a long drive back.”

You nod, feeling his thumb swipe over your bottom lip before he’s helping you off his lap, swatting at your ass playfully as your feet hit the floor. 

“Yes, sir,” You reply flippantly, leaning in to press a quick kiss to his cheek before you disappear. 

Joel smirks to himself as he reaches for his wallet.

You were right, without a doubt.

Joel had no self control when it came to you and he quickly realized that he’d be willing to do just about anything to make you happy.

-

divider creds: @/saradika-graphics

[bts5sosempire]

A/n: another blurb cuz why tf not? Another Dad!Simon and this man deserve all the softness in the world. Plus, I am not a professional in baby-ology, so take this cute drabble with a grain of salt. 🤟🏻

Simon was convinced his child hated him; the first six months were hard. He might as well get a reward trophy for participation in creating one of the prettiest girls in the world instead. The man tried to get his daughter to get used to him, but every time he hold her, the baby girl realized she wasn't in her mother's arms and they wriggled, before fussing and let out a few cries before going to a full-blown one. Thus, this lead you having to drop whatever you're doing and tend to the baby instead as Simon take over the current chore(s).

"Simon, just give it some time."

The sentence you always use to comfort him, but he still feels a little discouraged, maybe a bit hurt on the inside at the baby's refusal to be in his arms. He was excited for nine months to see his baby girl, but only for her to reject him once she came out of the womb.

"She'll come around, and once she do it'll be worth the wait."

.

The only time the baby seems to stay content in his arms, albeit a little angsty like always when you're not around, and the calmness appears to remain stagnant only for a moment until she starts fussing again; their little whimpers begin to bubble out, as wondering glossy little beady eyes search the room for you as they feel disconnected from their mother who was nowhere to be seen. Simon does his best to quell the child and soothe them before they can cry again.

But alas, it failed as their eyes had tears wounded up in them, and he already knew the signal cries she was going to make. So he had to speed dial you on call and put you on speaker to talk to the child. Honestly, Simon felt terrible for calling you for something as minor as this when he promised to take care of the baby and that he 'got this' for the next few hours when you did the shopping run. "Sorry, Love, it seems she wants to hear you."

Once the baby has heard your voice, they immediately stop crying and listen intently to your sound, like in a trance. The man felt hopeless about the child wanting you only, not him; he watched how they calmed down into obedience as he rocked them from side to side. The amazing things you do that soothe the child in a heartbeat.

But it wasn't until your voice was directed at him.

"Simon, I know you're doing your best trying to have her adjust to you, and I want you to know that I am proud of you for not giving up."

His heart warms at that.

.

It was late noon when he let his baby girl sprawl on the floor inside her playpen as he was watching a show while keeping an eye on her. The moment the little girl gained consciousness as a separate entity from her mother, she began to roll over on her stomach before crawling to sit up, and her little eyes glossed over, looking around the playpen, searching for the maternal needs before it landed on Simon who took his eyes off her for a fraction.

Her little bottom lips begin to quiver and poke out before bursting into tears as Simon quickly steps into his fatherly instinct and scoops up the baby into his arms, silencing her. They bleary wipe their beady tears away with stubby fingers before looking up at him and seeing her father's eyes looking down at her. She sniffed as Simon wiped the snot away with a thumb under her nose, "It's okay, I got you," his voice deeply resonated when he patted her back as his baby girl kept looking at him like it was seeing him for the first time in a different light.

With another sniffle and a little disgruntled noise, she rubs her eyes again and presses her forehead to the thumping side of his heart, slowly calming down. She realized it wasn't so bad to be in her father's arms and have another parent close to her to ease her separation anxiety.

It felt like magic for Simon, how she eased her miniature body into his instead of rejecting him and crying for you until you had to come and get her. He continues to soothe her while swaying from side to side, and you pop out of the corner on the open archway into the living room from the kitchen to see the rainbow after the storm.

You were about to say something, but you quietly mouth:

"I told you so; enjoy it."

With a smile.

[dontbesoweirdkira]

What if batsib also dies and comes back? Would that get rid of their status as the comfort person and stability in Jason's life?

This anon is referencing this post!

Hmm. This is such an interesting question! Thank you for asking.

I think it really depends on how you view Jason in my writing. I'll give you a few possible answers and you can do it as you will. To be honest my headcanons are up for interpretation. There's no right or wrong answer in fiction. I want you all to be pleased.

If you want my personal answer then it's the second one. Happy imagining.

If you took it as that he only clings to Batsis because of their purity.

Well i think the answer would be yes. But this would also mean he's not really obsessed with you but what you have. Your innocence and optimism is something he can hyper focus on. It overrides the demons and memories in his mind, when he's in his worse state, he can fade back into the thoughts of you and feel better. You give him hope that maybe the world isn't as shitty as his mind makes it out to be.

If you can stay unscathed for so long then what happened to him was just an anomaly. You are the perfect example of how he wishes he was. Blissful and un-traumatized, he lives vicariously through you.

You dying completely shatters his mind. He allows all of the bad to overtake him, there's no hope for a better life. It's clear the world doesn't want good to exist so why try to fight his demons anymore? They already took you which was the last sweet thing left.

When you come back, you're so different. He can't bring himself to even look at you. It destroys him so much. You're a husk of your former self, you're too much like him now. He hates who he is and thus can't love you the same way as before. Even the pure vanilla scent on you has a hint of death mixed into it. He doesn't like it.

he keeps his distance as far away from you as possible and is rather hostile when you try to interact with him. He doesn't truly mean it but it's all too much.

If you took it as he clings to you purely out of love and your purity is just a bonus.

He could never even think to stop loving his sibling. If anything it brings him closer to you. Your death tore him to shreds...yet you even in the midst he still held onto parts of you he had left.

Your memory..your scent still lingers just enough to carry Jason through the months of your death. He remembered the promises he made to you about becoming better, becoming just like Dick. He still wants to carry that through so he can be someone you are proud of. It keeps him from slipping back into the depths of his mind again. Maybe he even leans on the support of his siblings as well. He doesn't completely shut everyone out.

When you come back, he might be slightly standoff-ish. He's confused and conflicted. He's happy to see his siblings once again but at what cost? He knows what going through the pit is like and what it does to your mind. It looms over you and tries to rip your mind apart. You see and hear things that aren't really there...or maybe it is but only to the un-dead. He's hurting for you. He never wanted someone as kind as you to suffer like this. He knows the pain will never stop.

After his initial aversion, he's even more protective of you. Sure you may not want it but you need it. You won't be getting through this alone, you may be a shell of yourself but soon you'll be back to normal. Just like him you can turn it around.

It's nice to have someone in the family who can directly relate to him. It's like you both are in your own little world together. The other siblings can't have access to you the same way he does. He loves it. He finally has his sibling all to himself and there's no more competition. The others are the strange ones to you now...not him! To Jason, you're still as perfect as before.

[patrycarro]

TS3 - Rodeway Inn Motel (No CC)

ENG:

You might not find luxurious furniture or particularly healthy food at our motel, but we do offer you a private place to sleep—or, well, to do whatever it is you want to do. That said, keep one thing in mind during your stay: we don’t have a coffee machine here, so if you see one, be cautious. Let’s just say we’ve had a few... unpleasant experiences with that, and we’d rather not go through it again. Thank you.

For this build, I took inspiration from the motel featured in Chapter 2, Norwood Hitchhike, of the game Fears to Fathom (I’m sure some of you have already noticed). I absolutely love that game, and the moment I first saw that episode, I knew the motel would eventually become a new destination for my Sims. And well, here we are, right?

It’s not an exact replica, of course. I prioritized making it functional and fun for Sims rather than staying perfectly true to the original design.

What do you think? For those of you familiar with the game, does it get your approval? Personally, I’m totally in love with it—it adds a more realistic touch to my gameplay, which I really enjoy. Honestly, I’d even say it’s one of my favorites!

Features:

Lot type: Community, resort

Lot size: 40x40

Furnished lot value: 200.922 §

Unfurnished lot value: 84.387 §

Packs used in this build: EP02, EP03, EP04, EP05, EP07, EP08, EP09

Requirements:

Sims 3 Rabbit Hole Rugs and Doors Complete Collection by MrFatCat.

Terms and conditions:

DO NOT claim my creations as your own.

If you want to use any of my builds in your custom world, you are allowed to do so, BUT make sure to credit me as the original creator.

DO NOT re-upload my content under any circumstances; share it with your friends using my own links.

If you experience any issues, let me know and I’ll try to fix it as soon as possible.

Download it here. 🤍

SPA:

Puede que en nuestro motel no encuentres muebles lujosos ni comida especialmente saludable, pero te ofrecemos un lugar privado para dormir o, bueno, hacer lo que sea que quieras hacer. Eso sí, ten una cosa muy presente mientras te hospedas con nosotros: aquí no tenemos máquina de café, así que ten cuidado si ves una. Hemos tenido alguna que otra mala experiencia con este tema y no queremos repetirla. Gracias.

Para hacer esta construcción me he inspirado (seguro que algunos ya os habéis dado cuenta) en el motel que aparece en el capítulo 2, Norwood Hitchhike, del videojuego Fears to Fathom. Me encanta ese juego, y en cuanto vi ese episodio por primera vez supe que, tarde o temprano, el motel se convertiría en un nuevo destino para mis Sims. Y bueno, aquí estamos, ¿no?

No es exactamente igual, obviamente, ya que prioricé el hacerlo funcional y entretenido para los Sims que mantener el resultado fiel al original.

¿Qué os parece? ¿Los que conocéis el juego lo aprobáis? Yo estoy totalmente enamorada; le dará un toque más realista a mis partidas y eso me gusta mucho. Incluso diría que es una de mis favoritas.

Características:

Tipo de solar: Comunitario, complejo turístico

Tamaño del solar: 40x40

Valor del solar amueblado: 200.922 §

Valor del solar sin amueblar: 84.387 §

Packs utilizados en esta construcción: EP02, EP03, EP04, EP05, EP07, EP08, EP09

Requisitos:

Sims 3 Rabbit Hole Rugs and Doors Complete Collection de MrFatCat.

Términos y condiciones:

NO proclames mis creaciones como tuyas.

Si quieres usar alguna de mis construcciones en tu mundo personalizado, tienes permitido hacerlo, PERO deja claro que yo soy su creadora original.

NO resubas mi contenido bajo ninguna excepción; compártelo con tus conocidos usando mis propios enlaces.

Si experimentas algún problema, házmelo saber e intentaré solucionarlo lo antes posible.

Descárgalo aquí. 🤍

[octoberautumnbox]

I Got All I Need

Le Sserafim Kim Chaewon (ft. Soloist Jo Yuri & Male Reader)

Categories/warnings: smut, phone sex, masturbation, voyeurism i think, anal, abuse, rough sex, like really really rough sex (kinda)

Word count: 1.6k

a/n: wrote on a whim lol no proofread no beta im sorry anways--

Chaewon lay bored in her bed, having exhausted her SNS feeds and Watch Later playlist. Her members sent all manner of pictures with their families and other friends in the groupchat, and honestly, genuinely, Chaewon was happy for them! And just a teeny bit envious, that's all, cross her heart and hope to die.

Her phone read 6:06 pm, and on her first long weekend off in the year, she had nothing to do. She was getting desperate for some fun. She opened her contacts app and punched in a random number.

"Ah, sorry, Chaewon-ssi," the voice on the other end of the line admitted, "Yena won't be back in Korea until next Friday. I'll let her know you called."

"Hi, this is Eunbi! I can't come to the phone right now. Please leave me a message and I'll get back to you in a jiffy!" Of course she uses an answering machine, Chaewon thought.

"Hi, Unnie!" Chaewon was overjoyed! "Hey Minmin, I was just curious if you were down to eat--" The sound of a bell rang loud in the other side of the phone call. "Oops, I'm really really sorry Unnie. Gotta get back now. Long night ahead of us, they're even killing my character again today! See you soon!"

Looking to her closet, Chaewon's mind was half-set to just put on a warm coat and go out alone. That's a thing people do nowadays, right? Go out and eat by themselves?

Sighing, she went for one last-ditch effort. She knows she won't pick up. She knows that even if she does, she wouldn't want to come out. She knows that if she wants to come out, it'll be shabu-shabu and sitting around by the Han River. "Oh well," Chaewon resigned, "At least I won't be alone."

She scrolled down her contacts and found her name. Tap, tap, tap, and the ringing started. One ring, two, three, and four. Chaewon expected this, so much so that she's not even disappointed.

"H-hello?" Chaewon fought back a gasp! "Hey, hi Yuri! I was going to go out for a bite--"

"Ah, fuck..." Silence filled the phone line for a good few seconds before Yuri's end broke it again. "Shit, th-that's really good."

"Yuri?" "Ffffuck yes, just like that..." Disbelief filled Chaewon's mind. "Sorry," Yuri struggled to whisper, "wh-who is this?"

"It's... It's Chaewo-" "Fuck! Shit, shit, shit, please..."

Chaewon had half a mind to just drop the call then and there, and she should, right? This is one of her best friends in the world. Busy, as they say, with something important.

"Unnie, I'm so sorry, I just have the thickest cock ripping my asshole apart right now, ahhh, oh fuck, OH FUCK!"

Although, as much as Chaewon wants to deny it, dropping the call was out of the question now. She had to know just what exactly was going on.

"Are you okay, Yuri? Do... you need me to call someone?"

"Haahhhhh... Ahh, AHHHH!" Yuri's scream ripped through the phone line, and Chaewon couldn't keep her own free hand from straying anymore.

"Unnie, I... I need y-you... to keep a... a secret," It was hard for Chaewon to decipher what her friend was saying, between every moan and grunt littered across her speech. She couldn't resist, though, that she was paying more attention to them than whatever words could be spilling out of Yuri's mouth.

"I'm... with my... with my boyfriend. He's p-pounding my ass right now..." Chaewon was groping her own ass at that moment, and she could feel herself getting moist.

She heard whispering at the other end. Yuri's voice rang clearer, even if a bit shakier. "He says... if I end the call... he'll tie me up and, and leave me," Yuri's breaths are heavy and laced with exhaustion, "un-until morning. So I'm sorry, but I can't... Mmmmff..."

Chaewon couldn't believe she was getting hot to the sound of her friend getting fucked hard. There was no way pure, sweet, innocent Yuri was like this, right? Absolutely impossible.

And yet, she found her own hand slipping under her panties. She felt her smooth pussy lips, how they were slick against her fingers, and how her insides were starting to burn up.

"Unnie... he's making me tell you..." Chaewon was all ears now, desperate for more.

"I have six inches of cock up my ass... and three ffffingers... in my soaking cunt." Three wouldn't fit, Chaewon thought, so she settled for two inside herself. Her pussy lips parted for them, and Chaewon let out a tiny "mmmh."

"He... he's rubbing my clit, and... AHHH--" Chaewon was palming her own clit as her fingers shoved themselves slowly in and out of her pussy, letting more of her juices out and onto her panties.

"... and he's s-slapping and pinching it, Unnie..." Frustrated and in heat, Chaewon frantically stripped and kicked away both her shorts and panties; they were ruined anyway. She lay comfortably back onto her bed and spread her legs, in prime position for her own missionary fucking, with regrettably nothing more than her left hand.

"And Unnie..." Her former member's deep and heavy breaths occupied the phone line. "P-please... don't let this... change how you see me... God, please, no..."

Chaewon pumped her fingers in and out of her pussy hard now. Her juices were falling all over her bedsheets, and the scent of her sex reaching her nose only spurred her on.

"Yuri... Tell me."

"He... he creampied me, Unnie..." Suddenly, Chaewon's hips lifted off the bed momentarily as she heard this. Her fingers found a good spot as she returned to the bed, and from then on strove to hit it again and again and again.

"More, Yuri-yah... please..." She couldn't hide it anymore, Chaewon was moaning just as loudly now as her beloved friend.

"Th-three times, Unnie... in my ass..." Chaewon's eyes shut tight as her brain locked onto what was being said. "And... six... I think, in my... my pussy... oh- OH GOD!"

Chaewon started grinding against her palm, forcing more pleasure through her crotch. She humped against the air, lifting and dropping her hips in a needy bid for her sweet release.

"FUCK! Unnie, I can't remember-- Shhhhhit, shitshitshitshit... How- how many times he came in my cunt- AHHHH!"

She could hear it so much better now, how her friend's ass slapped against her boyfriend's waist. Yuri's moans rang louder still, pushing her phone's speaker to its limit.

"Unnie, holy fuck, Unnie... Please... don't..." Yuri collected herself for a moment before starting again. "He... he has my-my nipples in clamps, too... It hurts so good, Chaewon-unnie, shit... everything is so good..."

Chaewon struggled against her top, and managed to get all of it up past her chest and under her neck. Her breasts bounced out from under her bra and relaxed. She pinched and squeezed her left nipple as hard as she could, feeling the nub stiffen against her fingertips.

"And I came, Unnie..." Her fingers returned to pleasuring her now-leaking pussy. Chaewon rubbed around her lips to collect more of her slick, before shoving now three of her fingers inside her.

"I came so... so many times. F-fifteen... before I- ahhh- lost c-count." Chaewon found her pace and rhythm again. She pistoned her fingers into and out of her sex as her moans reached the other end of the line too.

"Fuck, Yuri-yah, that sounds so fucking good... I'm close... I'm so close!"

"He's forcing me t-to tell you, Unnie, ahhhhh..."

Chaewon shut her eyes again, wishing, imagining it was her getting the railing of her life. Only now did she realize how big the wet spot on her bed between her legs was.

"I'm... Unnie, I'm... his slut. I'm his ffffuuuckdoll..."

Chaewon was straining herself now, her arm muscles burning with overexertion. She felt her cunt leak so much of her sex all over her hand. She wildly fingered her g-spot, praying that her climax comes soon.

"I'm his pleasure girl, Unnie," Chaewon heard her friend's voice break with sobs between words and moans. "I'm his slutty, hhhorny, p-personal o-onahole..."

At this point, Chaewon was sobbing too. Why couldn't she have a boyfriend like that? Why can't she be the one getting sexually taken advantage of? She even bet she could make Yuri's boyfriend feel worlds better than Yuri ever could.

"I'm his... I'm his slutty fucking cumdump, Unnie! He fucks me raw and creampies my cunt- AHHHHH- and I love when he fills my womb up so much it leaks out of my abused pussy!"

A scream dragged itself across Chaewon's throat, and she made sure both Yuri and her boyfriend heard. Chaewon's arm burned hotter with overfatigue as she was nearly breaking her own pussy with how hard she was pumping. "Fuck, Yuri! Please! I need to cum!"

"Fuck, Unnie, me too! Shit, Unnie, I have to tell you..."

Tears streamed down Chaewon's cheeks now, her crotch and thighs soaked with her slick. She's already lost control of herself and fully gave in to her body's desires, wailing cries and moans that she couldn't even recognize as her own anymore.

"I'm not safe, Unnie! I'm so fucking f-fertile! He's going to make me pregnant! H-he's put- FUCKING SHIT, PLEASE DADDY- He's putting a fucking baby in my womb!!! AAAHHHHHHH!"

"FFFFUCK, YURI! HOLY FUCK I'M CUMMING SO MUCH!!!"

Chaewon's cum sprayed out of her sore cunt in intense streams. Chaewon forcefully pulled her fingers out as her hips convulsed violently, wringing out every last drop of her climax. She kept squirting for what felt like ages, and with every spurt of her girlcum she grew less and less alert.

Her eyes were heavy, and her ears were failing her. Her hands dropped to the sides, as did her waist onto the mattress as her climax overwhelmingly resolved. She grew less and less aware of her heart beating out of her chest, and, finally, passed out naked on her cum-soaked bed.

a/n: lmao jesus christ anyways this wasn't the incest smut i was talking abt that's still in the works