#they do know more about rules and regulations

[ddejavvu]

I'll hit it from the back just so you don't get attached - ex!peter parker x reader

Happy Indy day @hanasnx!!! Indy i hope you enjoy this. I used your peter content to get myself familiar with his character so i hope this feels right to you. you deserve to get sloppy with your ex boyfriend peter parker

You can't stop crawling back to Peter. He's been such a constant in your life for years, you've moved twice with him, you fostered a cat together, you stuck birthday candles in his cake for more years than you kept track of. But it just doesn't consistently work with you guys. You're so hot and cold, yes and no, back and forth. Like sticky, pronged ferns you tangle together out of crippling dependency, desperation to belong, stunting your growth and pricking bleeding, oozing wounds in each other. You make up, you fuck, you fight, you separate. You make up, you fuck, you fight, you separate.

You want sex and no one but Peter can give it to you. You're not going to waste your time with someone who doesn't know you, and listen, fucking Peter one time doesn't mean you're back together. You mean it this time, you're really not trying again. All you want is a fuck.

"Don't kiss me." You decide, jerking your head away from his lips. When his eyes glow wounded your frustration with yourself multiplies, because you shouldn't be here doing this with him. you shouldn't be in his bed, you shouldn't be letting him put his hands on you, because you're done. But you need him, you miss him, you love him, you hate him.

"Okay." Peter nods, reluctant but respectful, "Can I kiss- you? Your neck?"

"Whatever." You bite, growing increasingly antsy for the sex that's about to come, "Just not on the mouth, we're not together anymore."

If you let Peter kiss you you will get back with him. You'll fold and bury yourself in his toned chest, shutting yourself back in to the life you keep trying to step out from. You have to stay strong, and you steel yourself against the emotional component of Peter's lips brushing softly but hungrily over your bare shoulder. When he kisses against the skin you inhale, swallowing a pool of saliva that had gathered over your tongue.

You're not getting back together with him.

When he flips you over to spread your legs and bury himself inside of you you're met with his face, his teeth digging into his lip, his hair sticking up with sweat, his eyes, god his eyes looking anywhere but your own face. It takes you only a split second to realize that you're not going to be able to do this; that you're going to cave and kiss him yourself if you can see him like this. So you push him clumsily away, flipping over on all fours to bury your face into the pillow.

"There." You lean back on your knees, letting Peter look at the round swell of your ass, "From the back. We're- I can't look at you. We're not together anymore. I don't want to get attached again."

That's your rule. That's how you regulate, how you can twitch around Peter's cock without begging him to take you back. He has to press you down with his weight, whether it be over the arm of the couch or into the pillows at the head of his bed. Whatever you do, you cant look at his face, so he'll hit it from the back so you don't get attached.

[partisan-by-default]

(Dominic Byrd-McDevitt on LinkedIn)

On Friday night, the president officially fired the Archivist of the United States, as he had promised to do before taking office. So, hi there! 👋 Former National Archives employee here. The quality of the reporting on this has been disappointing to say the least, with only the most basic understanding of what the National Archives does. This is bigger than a little spat with a small agency.

Yes, the National Archives holds billions of pages of government records—essential for research, journalism, and government transparency—making it a crucial part of how citizens hold their government accountable, and also a key steward of our nation’s historical narratives. But, even beyond that, the functions of the National Archives and the Archivist of the United States are far more significant than most citizens realize. If you are wondering about what this could mean for our democracy, here is a short list of other things you should know about NARA and the AOTUS:

The Archivist of the United States is responsible for administering the Electoral College process. They are provide the official instruction to the states on how to carry out their Electoral College voting and transmit their electors’ votes, and also for receiving and validating the certificates before public viewing and permanent preservation.[1]

The National Archives is responsible for the publication of the Code of Federal Regulations, which is the official document that codifies all regulations of federal agencies, as well as the Federal Register, which is where the government gives notice of presidential actions, public meetings, and any proposed changes federal regulations before their required public comment period.

The National Archives is responsible for administering the Constitutional amendment process. The Archivist would receive any proposed amendment from Congress and transmit it to the states with instructions. They then receive and authenticate any ratification documents from the states. When sufficient states ratify, the Archivist is the one that formally certifies that the Constitution has been amended, with an official proclamation.[2]

As the National Archives states in all of its rulemaking postings, “Agencies may not destroy Federal records without the approval of the Archivist of the United States.” The National archives maintains records schedules, mandatory rules for agencies about how to retain records, and can determine which records are temporary (not permanently preserved). When these are violated, NARA can investigate and conduct oversight.[3]

The National Archives houses the National Personnel Records Center for the federal government. This is where all the personnel files of all federal employees are transferred after they separate from the government. Agencies have been charged with making lists of employees engaged in certain jobs for the White House, but it is worth noting any federal worker who ever left the government before now also has a file at the NPRC.

The National Archives has important roles in the classification process, including housing the Information Security Oversight Office and the National Declassification Center. In addition, the National Archives receives classified documents from the government for retention, as was widely reported during the president’s related criminal indictment. ISOO is the office that, by law, must be notified by anyone who encounters mishandled classified documents.[4]

The Freedom of Information Act (FOIA) ensures that citizens have the ability to hold the government accountable by establishing a right to access public records. It is a crucial tool for journalists. National Archives’ Office of Government Information Services is the ombudsman for federal FOIA program, receiving public complaints about violations of the law and producing compliance reports on agencies.[5]

Do you know of anyone who wants to interfere with the Electoral College vote, wipe out government regulations, change the Constitution, destroy or illegally retain government records, etc.?

So far, with everything else going on, this has hardly registered in the top news stories. It is important to know that none of this is normal. No Archivist of the United States has ever been fired by a president, in almost 100 years since the position was created, making Shogan—the first woman in the office—the shortest serving AOTUS. This is an apolitical position, even when the officeholder was appointed by the previous president. The statute regarding the office of the Archivist of the United States (44 USC § 2103) reads: "The Archivist shall be appointed without regard to political affiliations and solely on the basis of the professional qualifications required to perform the duties and responsibilities of the office of Archivist."[6]

Regardless of your politics, failing to defend the independence National Archives and its staff right now—and allowing it to be gutted or turn political—could be disastrous for the future of democracy.

Notes

[1] Here is the letter sent by Shogan after before 2024 election to state officials: https://www.archives.gov/files/electoral-college/state-officials/example-archivist-letter.pdf

[2] Here is the Archivist’s proclamation of the 27th Amendment: https://catalog.archives.gov/id/1512313

[3] For example, here is the letter sent when, in the Obama administration, the IRS was scrutinized for targeting conservatives and emails were deleted. https://oversight.house.gov/wp-content/uploads/2014/06/6-17-2014-NARA-to-Bennett.pdf The Archivist provided testimony to Congress in the matter. https://www.politico.com/story/2014/06/irs-lost-emails-archivist-108242

[4] In response to high-profile cases of government officials retaining classified documents, ISOO published a notice in 2023 with guidance on identifying and handling classified materials. https://www.archives.gov/files/isoo/notices/cogc-isoo-notice-final-06-21-2023.pdf

[5] See https://www.archives.gov/ogis/mediation-program/request-assistance & https://www.archives.gov/ogis/foia-compliance-program

[6] It also states regarding removal from office: "The President shall communicate the reasons for any such removal to each House of the Congress." Which does not appear to have happened yet, or has not yet been reported in any news reports. 44 USC 2103

[janesurlife]

do the matt and tommy guys actually watch the race? or know literally anything about f1 rules?? cause I just watched their video about las vegas (previously I just watched a short instagram reel where they were already wrong about Carlos ignoring team orders) and they're so fucking ignorant. They completely misunderstood the pit lane non penalty Fiasco about Carlos, they thought he should have gotten a penalty 😭😭 and then they said Carlos ignored the order to "overtake sour puss" when he was NEVER told to not overtake Leclerc, he was just told to not put him under pressure and that's what he did...he breezed was easily cause Leclerc was STILL warming his tyres.

First time in my life I absolutely loved dudebros schooling someone about sports. They were getting destroyed in the comments and it was hilarious 😂😂😂

[bumblingbabooshka]

Something about this interaction between Harry & Janeway - specifically Janeway but it's notable that Harry's the one listening because I think, say, Chakotay or B'Elanna might push back against the idolization of this 'it was different back in those days' way of thinking.

[medicinemane]

At least even when I was a teenager and identified as communist, I was still never a soviet apologist

(And as I got older I came to dislike the USSR more and more and more, also seeing that soviet apologism kinda tended to fuck things up for western communists cause they'd be so busy running defense for people who didn't like or care about them, that actually getting policies passed to help western workers came second to being a tankie)

(Straight up, while I was volunteering in Quebec, one of the people I stayed with had this book by her uncle about being a Canadian communist, and he basically pinned soviet apologism as the whole reason he left the party cause they were more interested is doing PR for the kremlin than they were interested in like... unionizing in Canada)

Anyway, tankies suck, soviet apologism suck, and I'm glad to be able to say that even when I was a communist I didn't fall into that trap... like thank fuck for that, you know?

[unintentionalseductress]

Prescription For Pleasure

Warnings: MDNI, sex, masturbation, medical masturbation, use of vibrators, clit play, piv sex, use of latex gloves, oral (fem receiving), some praise, kinda slow burn A/n: I am not normal about this man in any way. Not really proofread. Please do not use my banners without permission.

You’re seated in Zayne’s office, trying not to squirm as he sets up your appointment. Although this was now the third time you were seeing him for this regular inspection, it didn’t alleviate your nerves the slightest. Each month, according to the Hunter’s Association regulations, every hunter needed to be seen by their primary care physician for 3 consecutive days for their health.

And although the association deemed it a necessity, it was an embarrassing requirement according to you. The Hunter’s Association had done a survey and discovered that many of their employees suffered from high levels of stress because they were isolated and lacked much-needed human contact. To combat this, they made it mandatory to get physical contact by a medical professional every month.

But when all the fancy jargon was pushed aside, all the hunters called it the same thing - medical masturbation. It had become wildly popular amongst both men and women hunters, eagerly marking the days on their calendar for when they could come in. When you heard about the rule, you wished the earth would open up and swallow you whole. You had tried talking to Jenna to insist that you were indeed taking care of yourself in that aspect, thanks to your trusted vibrator, but she had shaken her head no. 

“We need documentation. I’m subject to it, and so is everyone else in my order.”  Defeated, you’d walked out of Jenna’s office before remembering another mortifying fact with a jolt. Your primary care physician was Zayne. 

Your childhood friend, your trusted cardiologist, stoic and calm, who remained reserved during your general checkups, was going to be your medical masturbator. You had almost turned yourself into a ball on the floor, tweaked out at the insanity of it all. Although Zayne was your general physician, you had a separate gynecologist, and apart from asking if you’d had your annual PAP smear, Zayne had left that part of your anatomy unquestioned. It didn’t help that you were attracted to him, and sure, if he’d asked you out on a date, you would have been more than happy to let him inspect you all he wanted down there.

But this clinical setting, enforced by your organization was a little too much to bear. Wondering how to tackle this situation, you wander over to Tara who was humming as she made her medical bookings on her phone app. “Isn’t this exciting?” she squeals as she sees you. “God knows the dating pool is thin right now. This is just what I needed!”

Tara’s primary care physician was a woman, and you wondered if that was a pro or a con. On the one hand, dropping your panties for a woman doctor seemed less unnerving than for a man. But if you had a preference for men, would it work against your arousal? You shook your head at your ridiculous musings and focused on talking to Tara. “Are you really that excited about this?”

“You have no idea!” Tara taps her feet as she talks to you. 

“And you’re ok about having a woman stimulate you?” You probe, trying to gauge Tara’s reaction. Tara giggles and lightly pats your shoulder. 

“I don’t know but the idea is kind of hot. I mean, getting it on in a doctor’s office? Besides if I don’t like it, I can change the doctor the next time.”

Her words hit you like a ton of bricks. “You can change your doctor?”

“For this yes, the app gives you an option since it involves showing off a lot of intimate areas. You have to be able to trust your doctor right?”

You logged into the app, finding the little button to request a change in doctors, but for some reason, the page kept refreshing and crashing. With a sigh, you decide to get the worst of it over with and call Zayne, hoping he can make the change for you on his end. His voice is cool and professional when he answers your call.

“Yes?”

“So, you must have heard about…the new regulation?” you had put forth nervously.

“I am aware of it, yes.” 

“Well, for obvious reasons, I would like a different doctor.” 

Zayne smoothly says, “Of course. Patient comfort is always first. Do you have a doctor in mind?”

“Maybe my gynecologist? I tried doing it in the app but it keeps crashing.” There’s a moment of silence and you can hear Zayne’s fingers tapping away at his keyboard before a low hum leaves his end of the line.

“There appears to be a problem.”

“Problem?” you’d parrotted back.

“Yes. Because so many people are booking appointments at the same time, most of the available doctors are already taken. Including your gynecologist.” 

It felt like watching a bird crashing into a window in slow motion, that brief moment of hope that it wouldn’t hit the glass shattering in an instant. “Oh.”

There’s a pause before Zayne delicately says, “I’m sorry but it looks like you will have to make those appointments with me for this month. 3 of them according to the regulation. Hopefully, you can make the change for next month.” His voice sounded slightly apologetic.

“Won’t it be weird given that we know each other personally?” The question had fallen from your lips before you could stop yourself. 

“I promise not to treat you any differently than any of my other patients who are coming in for this inspection. I understand this may be a little unexpected, but I assure you I did a term of gynecology during my internship.”

A tinge of mirth carried over in his voice and you can’t help but make a noise of embarrassment. “Zayne, please!” His laugh was dry but not unkind, and you can’t help but want to hide your face even though he couldn’t see you. 

“Don’t worry too much. But I do advise you to make the appointments soon. My schedule is filling up rapidly.”

With those words, he’d disconnected the call and you were left wondering if an unknown god from another planet had cursed your existence. 

And changing doctors had proven to be more difficult than you’d thought. The entire organization seemed to be having a single thought. They had made appointments in the app almost halfway into the year, essentially blocking you from being able to do anything about your situation. Now on your third month with Zayne, you watch as he checks his notes from your last session, feeling like you want to scamper from the room.

The last two sessions had been incredibly stimulating, your arousal heightened by the fact you were attracted to Zayne. You’d never considered having someone watch as you touched yourself but found that you’d enjoyed it, at least, when it was him. He had remained professional, but you’d avoided him these last two months, save for when you had to get your monthly cardiac profile. He reads his notes from his computer as he prepares for your session. 

“Preferred device for stimulation still a vibrator, with a large, rounded, flexible head?” His eyes remain on his screen and you’re grateful for him giving you this smidgen of privacy. 

“Yes.”

“Preference for the doggystyle position still?” 

Your face burns. “Yes.”

“Still consenting for verbal stimulation?”

You nod your head.

“And still consenting for internal vaginal stimulation?” You make a noise of consent, squeezing your thighs together, your panties uncomfortably chafing against your already swollen pussy. 

“All right, I have everything I need.” He logs off and removes his lab coat, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt, revealing his well-corded arms, and your mouth almost waters at the sight of them. Clearing your throat, you shyly reach into your bag and pull out the vibrator in question, which he takes from you and clamps into a stand, adjusting it over the examination table you’d be on. A bottle of lube awaits on the tray next to the table and you swallow as he finishes the setup. 

“Whenever you’re ready,” he says in that deep voice, and feeling like your fingers are wrapped in thick woolen mittens, you reach behind you to untie the hospital gown you’re wearing, and it falls to the floor with a swoosh, your nipples pebbling under the sudden chill. A small set of sensors were taped to your chest and on the sides of your forehead, essential medical devices to ensure your orgasm was satisfactory. Unperturbed, Zayne gestures to the table and you make your way onto it, letting your feet settle in the stirrups as he settles on a stool between your legs, pulling on latex gloves before gently spreading your folds apart. You stare up at the ceiling as he does his initial checkup.

“Labia look healthy, no signs of trauma or abnormal discharge,” he murmurs, then runs a finger down the edge of the fold that separates your inner and outer lips, causing your core to clench involuntarily. You hold still, knowing very well he saw the action, holding your breath, letting out a little sigh as he lets go. 

“Normal reaction to stimuli, already semi-aroused,” he says, trashing the gloves and making another note on his computer. He glances over at you, leaning back uncertainly on the table. “You may begin.”

You swallow, then carefully turn onto your hands and knees, crawling towards the head of the table, grabbing the bottle of lube and squeezing the viscous liquid onto the head of the vibrator, avoiding eye contact as your breasts sway under the motion, nipples painfully hard from anticipation. You could feel Zayne’s gaze but can’t bring yourself to look up. Even though this was the third time, it hadn’t gotten easier, stripping naked and pleasuring yourself in his office. 

Once the rounded head of the vibrator is slick, you turn, the chill of the lube against your heated membranes causing more blood to flow into your already engorged nub, and run your moist slit across the surface to spread the liquid onto your slickened folds. Your hand fumbles for the little remote control and with a buzz, the vibrator turns on at the lowest setting. You click the button a few more times until it gets to the speed you liked, then fail to hold back a moan as the sensations pleasurably begin to take hold in your clit. 

The first time you had done this, nervousness had made you set the vibrator on the highest possible setting hoping to get a quick orgasm and sprint out of the office. Unfortunately, the sensors relayed this information into Zayne’s medical record that your climax had been unsatisfactory, and you had endured being lectured by him with the medical gown loosely draped on your body, your rear open to the cold office air. 

His tone wasn’t unkind but it hadn’t helped you feel better either. “It helps neither of us if you rush this. The whole purpose of this examination is to ensure you’re relaxing. I know it’s embarrassing but if you fail to have a proper orgasm, I’ll have to make you repeat the process until I get data that says otherwise.”

“The sensors are-”

“The only way to measure anything. Without involving another person anyway.”

His words had left you gobsmacked and your retort had died in your mouth. After that incident, you had learned. Even with the chagrin of having him watch you, you had learned to take your time and let the feelings build, leading to incredibly savory climaxes that made your body squirm from the aftershocks. 

Your hips sway, setting up a rhythm to brush your sensitive slit onto the head, letting it vibrate from cunt to clit, the lube aiding the frictionless sliding and making your core drip. Quiet noises of pleasure leave your throat as help yourself, arching your back and changing the curvature of your ass to maximize the sensations, then when the perfect pattern emerges, you let out a keening sigh, and try to remain still, letting the vibrator work its magic. 

Zayne, who has been quietly observing the computer this entire time, observing the spikes relayed from the sensors, asks, “Have you found your optimal pleasure form?”

“Yes,” you gasp, the timbre of his voice sending an arrow of lust into the deepest parts of your clenching core. You knew what was about to come next. The sound of Zayne’s desk chair moving, followed by the snap of latex gloves as he pulled a fresh pair onto those beautiful hands. He approaches the examination table and takes the bottle of lube you had set aside earlier, a wet squelching noise issuing from it as he squeezes it over his gloved hand, gathering the fluid on his index and middle fingers. He leans over to whisper in your ears; the verbal stimulation has begun.

The humiliating reveal that you had a heavy praise kink had come up during your initial session and despite your insistence that it wasn’t necessary, Zayne, the ever-diligent worker, had made a note in your profile, and he’d been fulfilling it each time. A tickle of hot breath near your ear, before he murmurs, “Are you enjoying yourself?”

The hum of the vibrator in the background coupled with his voice makes your breath catch in your throat. You nod, knowing you didn’t have it in you to form coherent words. 

“That’s a good patient. Good patients listen to their doctors you know. And you’re doing a wonderful job.”

Your hips snap back to push your clit against the rubber pad, letting out a whimper of pleasure, the action pushing your ass up higher, revealing your pathetically drooling cunt, fluttering with the dissatisfaction of being unfilled. 

“Are you ready?” He waits for your consent and you manage a husky, ‘mm hm’.

“Good girl. Take a breath.”

You inhale, trying to relax, then let out an uninhibited moan as Dr. Zayne inserts his middle finger into your needy cunt, the ring of muscles offering no resistance to the probing digit. He gently thrusts a few times, before curling the tip of his finger up into the delicate patch of nerves on your upper wall, the smooth come hither motion awakening a new level of pleasure in your body. Your fingers tighten on the edges of the table, sobbing, trying not to scream at the feelings that threatened to explode from you. He keeps up the gentle assault before asking, “Are you ready for another one?”

“Yes…” your voice comes out shakily, knowing you desired more than just his fingers, but that you would never get to experience it. 

“Perfect. So well behaved, taking exactly what I give you.” Zayne’s sensual voice floods your ear before his index pushes into you, the thickness of both his fingers sending you into overdrive. Your walls clench welcomingly around him, inciting an exciting pull of liquid heat in your abdomen, the muscles tensing in anticipation for the exquisite release you knew was about to occur. 

Feeling your inhibitions abandon you as you are stroked closer to orgasm your self-control slips and his name falls from your lips as he pushes over the edge.

“Zayne…” some partially functioning confine in the back of your brain registers what you had just involuntarily purred, but the spasms rocking your core, those gratifying waves of delight flooding your body made it easier to ignore it as your being is reduced to a pliant mess of pleasure. His fingers ease up as the fluttering in your pussy calms down, your clit pulsating weakly as the final vestiges of pleasure are wrung from your body. 

With a wet noise, his fingers leave your moist hole, the glove coated with your juices and the lubricant. Awareness finally comes crashing around you as you realize what you had uttered in the throes of passion. 

“I…I didn’t…I wasn’t in control…” You try to find a way to explain, to let him know you had very little choice in the matter of sobbing his name as you orgasmed, but everything feels flat, almost on the fine line between explaining and insulting. 

“There’s no need.” Almost as if he’s read your mind, Zayne matter-of-factly redirects the conversation. “It’s not uncommon to blurt out things during climax. Some people swear, and others call out names. It was a very normal reaction considering I was the one in the room with you.”

He throws the gloves in the trash and goes to check the computer, to ensure the sensors had given him the information he needed before starting the second round of the appointment.

“Oh.” You say quietly as he sits at his desk, feeling dejected. Although relieved he wasn’t making a big deal out of it, you can’t help but feel disappointed with his reaction. Shouldn’t a man be flattered when a woman cried out his name when she came? Maybe he really was treating you strictly as a patient. And here you were, pussy exposed and spread after being probed by his dextrous fingers, mooning over him like a high school girl. Perhaps the limit of your relationship with him was in fact, doctor and patient, the childhood friends aspect fading. 

So there was no romance here at all. You had a crush on him, and he was doing his job. Reality sucks. You sniff and suddenly feel cheap, and get out of the doggystyle position and try to find the hospital gown to preserve some of your modesty. Zayne glances over at your sudden movements.

“Are you cold? I can get you a blanket.”

“I’m fine.” You try to sound normal. 

“Your records show that you usually rest about 10 minutes before you are ready for the next round. Do you feel like that will be the case this time too?”

You find the gown and drag it up to your chin, covering your body as you lay back on the table. “Yeah. Actually a little sooner today maybe. I have somewhere to be.”

“You can’t rush these things. Your body will cum when it wants to. A forced orgasm doesn’t promote anything beneficial.”

“Well can we find a way for this to happen quickly and in compliance with the sensors?” You’re trying not to let your frustration show, the pleasantness of your orgasm fading. “I don’t think I have the patience to do two more rounds.”

Zayne listens to you impassively, but those amber eyes flecked with green had an underlying intensity you couldn’t place. “You don’t have the patience to do two more rounds?” He gets up and comes over to you. “You want to just leave then?” He approaches the edge of the table and there’s tension in his jaw. Perplexed, you look at him, his reaction unexpected. 

“No, I’m sorry, I know I can’t leave because of compliance and all that.”

“Compliance,” Zayne mutters under his breath before grasping your chin and forcing you to look at him, a gasp leaving your throat. 

“You’re getting frustrated because you have to do this a few times every month while being supervised? Do you have any idea what I have to do before you come in for these sessions?” His voice is a growl and you clam up, shocked by this aggressive display of expression from him.

“Every month I have to remain professional as you come in, pleasure yourself, and then leave. I have to endure seeing your beautiful body bare in front of me and control all my impulses to touch you, to not overstep my limitations as your doctor. I pleasure myself remembering the noises you make and ensure I’m well spent before coming in to do your appointments. You sit there, acting like it’s hard for you, but do you have any idea what you do to me?”

One of his knees is on the table, and he’s looming over you making you feel like a tiny animal caught in his fury. “It’s torture, to watch you. You’re not like the other patients I see. You never have been. Because with you, I always feel like I’m on the verge of losing control. Do you know how difficult it is to not do things to you that aren’t specified on your medical record? To have my fingers so intimately inside you, feel every little drop of pleasure clenching around my fingers, knowing at the end I can’t have you to myself? To hear you call my name and know that you only see me as your doctor?” 

Your face is a bright shade of red but you can’t look away from his face. His teeth are gritted, and when you dare to glance down, you see the noticeable bulge that has formed between his legs. He follows your glance and clicks his tongue, letting go of your chin. 

“I know I crossed a boundary today. It’s all right. You can go. I’ll reschedule you with another doctor. I know you didn’t want me in the first place.”

Your mind is a blur as you quickly reach out to grab his hand, your heart hammering wildly in your chest. His admission was like a prayer answered, and you weren’t going to meek about this. His breath hitches as he feels you pulling at his hand and gives you a look of uncertainty. Your lips part but the words you want to say refuse to come out. 

“Damn it,” he whispers ferally before his mouth captures yours in a rough kiss. It was wild and demanding, a contrast to the reserved, patient man he usually was. You’re swept up in the feeling of his mouth on yours, the taste of his tongue, and the softness of his lips. When you break apart, his hand cups your cheek, his eyes searching your face.

“This isn’t just because of the session right?” He asks keenly and you realize what he’s asking you. He’d been aching for you before this whole stupid policy came into place. The same way you’d been longing for him. 

“No, it’s not. I had a crush on you back when you became my doctor to check on my heart condition.” A sigh of relief leaves him before he tenderly presses his forehead to yours, and you’re caught up in the sweetness of the moment. 

“I just had to be sure.”

Boldly, you raise your head, delighted when he meets you, pulled back into his kiss, your tongues sliding over each other, your fingers tangling into his hair, scratching the nape of his neck, pulling him closer to you. 

You gasp as he breaks the kiss to drag his tongue down the column of your throat, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses to the heated flesh, your blood humming in your veins as your eyes flutter closed. He pulls away the gown and pulls your perked nipple into his mouth, and you revel in the jolt of pleasure it brings you, each suckle felt in your clit which had already swollen up again in need. His fingers capture your other nipple, softly tweaking and pulling it and drawing little whines of desire from your throat. 

Your hand finds the junction between his legs and cups the heavy bulge, drawing a groan from him, palming him through his slacks, feeling it grow and tent the fabric under your ministrations. A low guttural sound leaves him and he gets off the table, and you almost protest until you see him dragging the small wheeled stool from earlier towards the table. He settles down on it, looping his arms around the tops of your thighs and pulling you closer to the table's edge until your feet find the stirrups again. 

“Stay open for me darling,” he instructs, his eyes glittering and you shiver as you feel his breath against your swollen folds. You squeak as he pushes your folds apart with his nose, inhaling your scent, his eyes growing dark with lust. “You smell delicious. I always wondered. Had to stop myself from sniffing my gloves after you climaxed. Not professional you know.” 

The musky tang of your pussy fills his senses, and his tongue darts out and dips into your slit, finding the swollen bud and licking it with just the right pressure that makes your toes curl and stars pop into your vision. 

Your hand rests on his head, tugging his beautiful dark locks, his name falling from your lips without barriers. Your hips rock against him, moaning, then let a sob as his lips suction around your clit. His fingers, free from the gloves at last, probe your entrance, scissoring inside to prepare you for what was to come before they curl up into that gummy patch that he knew too well. 

The sensations flood you, and the sheer knowledge of knowing you had Zayne touching you this way, unbound by the usual rules was sending you into a frenzy. Incoherent noises leave your mouth, crying out hotly as he teases the orgasm from you, your body shivering from the intensity. 

He wipes his mouth on the back of his hand and takes in your appearance, so soft and satisfied on his table, a dreamy look in your eyes.

“Are you prepared for the after?” he asks, you nod, more than eager to experience him. A sly smile crosses his face before he reaches over into the little chest of drawers by the table and pulls out a condom. 

“Hospitals have free condoms. It would be impractical to not use one when it’s on hand.” He explains seeing your questioning look and stands to undo his pants. You watch curiously as his cock is finally freed, eyes widening as it faces you, so impressive and veiny, standing proudly with a slight curve in its length. His pubes were neatly trimmed at the base, ebony curls visible behind the shaft. As he starts to roll on the condom, you feel your whole body heating up in anticipation. 

He leans down to kiss you before taking your feet and resting them on his shoulders, his cock at the perfect angle to enter you. As he sinks into your welcoming heat, you let out a sigh of longing, feeling the delicious stretch of muscle as he pushes up inside you, gasping as you feel his full length sheathe itself. As he bottoms out, his eyes close in bliss, hardly daring to believe that after all this time, he is finally getting to fulfill this private dream. 

Each stroke has him brushing against your gspot and kissing your cervix as he paces himself, feeling the primal urge to take you roughly and selfishly calling at his self-control. A growl leaves his throat as you whimper, straining towards him as the both of you struggle to keep a grip on reality. He feels the seductive way your walls clench around him, hears the soft noises you make, sees your face contort in pleasure with every roll of his hips. 

“Oh you feel so good,” he pants hotly, glasses askew, almost at the tip of his nose as he thrusts. “Clenching me so needily. Gonna milk me dry.”

Your response is a shuddering whimper, your back arching greedily to feel all of him, creating the perfect curvature to brush your clit against the base of his erection with each push of his hips. He feels the little bud on his heated skin, your combined fluids dripping onto his shaft, slickening the bundle of nerves with each stroke. 

“Be a good girl and cum on my cock the way you do on my fingers.” Zayne’s voice is husky as he tries to hold on, damned if he came before you. “I know you want to. I can feel the way your walls are spasming. They always do this pattern before you orgasm.”

The fact that he had memorized this knowledge of you was too much and you let go, your voice filling the room as you climax. Zayne’s hips stutter as he feels you around his length, pussy fluttering so him. His pace quickens, the sound of slapping skin becoming more and more urgent, his balls hitting your ass each time as he chases his orgasm. 

A shiver passes through his body as it happens and he buries himself in your warmth. You hum in satisfaction as you feel his cock twitch and pulse inside you as he spills his load. He pants, sweat on his forehead as he bends down to kiss you again, carefully lowering your legs which burn from the stretch as they settle on the stirrups. 

Threading your fingers through his hair, you brush your noses together, smiling shyly at him as he smirks, his eyes closing as he catches his breath.

“Can I see you outside of my office sometime?” he asks and you laugh at the invitation. 

“Are you asking me out on a date after having sex just once?” you tease as he grips the base of the condom and slides out, your pussy feeling the loss keenly. 

“I have been wanting to for a while. I was just wondering if I was misreading the signals. But I think I have a solid answer now.” He helps you sit up and cradles your body against his, idly stroking your skin, before gently removing the sensors off your body. 

“Let’s get dressed,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead after a moment of cozy silence, and the both of you hunt down your clothes. As he fixes his tie, Zayne passes by his computer and lets out an amused huff. 

“Something funny?” you ask as you button your blouse.

“The sensors definitely gave enough information to make anyone’s head spin.” You walk over and snort as you see the window, full of sharp spikes. 

“Well, at least I am guaranteed you had a good time.” Zayne’s eyes sparkle mischievously as he pulls you in for another kiss. 

“I’m not changing my doctor,” you reassure him as you pull away. There’s amusement in his gaze when he replies. 

“Oh, definitely not. I think if the Hunter’s Association ever sees this record, they’ll heavily advise you to remain with the same healthcare professional.” 

© unintentionalseductress original work | no copying, plagiarizing or translating support banner by @/ cafekitsune @theimmortalbuns @otomegamesforlife @sweets-kozume @actuallysaiyan

[somewhereincairparavel]

percy had an 'im a big three son' moment when he choked a goddess with her own saliva (controlling a fluid that was INSIDE her body) annabeth was terrified.

nico had an 'im a big three son' moment when he disembodied bryce lawrence (quite literally dissipating and shrinking his LIVING soul into a spirit) and threw him to the underworld, smashing his zombie warriors. reyna was terrified.

yet we were robbed of jason's 'im a big three son' moment where he sucks the air out of someone's lungs and makes them stop breathing, or damaging a person's nervous system with his lightning control, and literally cause internal bleeding, or a damaged/fried skull if he electrocuted hard enough (look up the effects of lightning damage on body y'all will get a whole list, tbh he doesn't even need lightning to do any of this, air control is more than enough since air takes charge of everything going inside the body, but this is just an added effect.) he could give people STROKES if he wanted to. he's the literal definition of burnt out kid who was suppressed from discovering the magnitude of his abilities, because one, his dad's ego wouldn't be able to handle it, two, because he, for some reason, can't be allowed to do anything other than get knocked out :/

also adding on, hardcore pjo fans know that after the ending page of boo, there's this fan story that rick chose to publish in the last few pages of the book where a fan reimagines the ending of hoo, in that work, annabeth collapses from an attack and percy sobs clutching her body. jason calmly asks him to step aside, and kneels before annabeth, jason regulates her breathing using his wind/lightning powers and brings annabeth back fully from her cardiac arrest, causing percy to be relieved. (I wanted to link the pics of the pages here so bad but I didn't have the hard copy of the book with me, and this isn't available anywhere online either, only in the original covers of boo uk and us version, so I edited this post and asked people to reblog this post w the pics if they have the hardcopy, and a kind blogger found the story I'm talking about and reblogged the pictures of the pages, you can check my reblogs of this post for the pictures of the almost all the pages after this scene) considering rick approved and even liked the fan's work well enough to publish it in the official boo book, I'd say rick was aware and never completely ruled out expanding jason's abilities and had them in mind, he simply didn't incorporate it into the books. (also W fan for giving jason the rep he deserves, I will always remember you, you saw the VISION before any of us did, the story was very well written, with great dialogue.)

[hoshigray]

Pretty Please with a cherry and spinkles ontop😩🙏 I need a Pussymatized Toji. Absolutely infatuated with his FWB. He was the one that said no attachments until he got addicted to her.

𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: lmao, "pussymatized" is new, but i see the vision!!

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: fwb! Toji x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - kissing/making out - implied prior sex - backshots + missionary positions mentioned - oral (f! receiving) - feedbag position - multiple orgasms - Daddy kink - overstimulation - pet names (baby, good girl, mama, sweetie) - clitoral play (licking and sucking) - pussy-whipped! Toji - mention of spit and tears.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.1k

Toji knew better. He’s done the whole friends with benefits gig plenty of times, and he knows the big rule that comes with the package:

Absolutely no feelings involved, or else the arrangement is off.

“Hoooh…! Ahhhn, T-Toji, stop…Not too fast!”

That is until he met you.

For about a year, you and Toji have been friends with benefits. It started as something Toji told you about, how he’d sleep around and get in those kinds of relationships. You were the one to ask if he’d be down to do it with you.

The onyx-headed one thought about it for a minute until he gave in and said sure. However, he stressed the “no feelings attached” policy intensely. He considered you a dear friend – a rarity in his life – and he didn’t want what you two were doing to damage this close relationship. It was just casual sex with a friend, nothing more. And you nodded to his regulation with a smile, moving your friendship to the next level.

Off the bat, the sex between you two was great! It had been a while since Toji had done stuff like this, and doing it with someone he could trust like you made the interaction smooth and entertaining. Problems between the two of you were rare, and it’s thanks to you two being mature adults that made handling this non-serious relationship easy!

Nevertheless, one thing made this cooperation difficult — at least on Toji’s part. The older man was becoming more and more infatuated with you.

He doesn’t know when it started getting this bad; Toji was never one to be the one catching feelings during these kinds of kinships. So, this was a bit new for him, and it made the poor man go crazy as the days went on. Him? Catching feelings?? Breaking his own rule??? Get real!

But he couldn’t lie to himself, it was all different since he was doing it with you. You were the closest person he could call a friend outside of Shiu, and that never changed once you two became fuck buddies. If anything, things have gotten a lot closer between you two. You cared for his kids while he was away, cooked meals for him because you feared he didn’t eat enough during the day, or invited him on grocery sprees. 

It wasn’t like you didn’t do stuff like that before. Yet now that you and Toji were doing things beyond a regular friendship, the man was seeing you in a new light that he hadn’t seen before, and God, it was suffocating him. He doesn’t know how many of your gorgeous smiles or sweet strings of laughter he can take before he snaps. 

But it wasn’t just your personality and gracious aura that lured him on. As mentioned before, the sex was amazing — No, scratch that; you were amazing. It had been a very long while since Toji had done sexual shit with someone who could reciprocate pleasure. Fuck, you felt so good, whether it was jerking or sucking him off while massaging his balls in your pretty hands, or bouncing on his cock with that tight cunt of yours that had him on the edge, holding on to your waist as he’d piston his cock deep inside. Merely thinking about churning your walls that snug on his cock had him gulp thickly, thinking a heavy sigh would get these thoughts out of his mind.

But they don’t, of course. Because he’d be damned if he’d try to forget the image of your beautiful body all hot and sweaty with his. Your moans and squeaks were all prompted by his thrusts, and – fucking Jesus – he could never get over the way you said his name, so desperate for him with watery, doe eyes that pull him in. Looking all disheveled and alluring for him and only him, peering over your shoulder when he’d hit it from behind like you wanted to see him feel good. Toji would’ve been a fool if he hadn’t fallen for you!

There was a time when Toji’d slip up and hold your hand as he chased release, noticing you catch the sight of his palm and integers gripping yours. Thinking you were uncomfortable, he removed his hand from yours, only for you to wrap your legs around his waist and bring him to you for a kiss. It was just a kiss, is what he’d say to justify it. But hearing you mewl under his lips and whisper to his ears was the last straw for him, hammering his dick and spilling his load into you as you two made out passionately.

Yeah, there was no doubt about it; the guy was falling for you hard.

So hard that he couldn’t stop thinking about you. It scared him a bit – the thought of you being his made his heart beat at a pace he hadn’t experienced in a long time. You corrupted his senses; he wanted to hear you, kiss you, feel you, smell you, taste you — fuck, did he want to taste you; it was so bad.

But it wasn’t as bad until you hadn’t stopped by for two weeks. You’d text him your apologies, saying that work caught you up and that you couldn’t see him and the kids. And even then, you’d still manage to throw a phone call before sleep, and Toji doesn’t know if that was better or worse. Your voice made his skin crawl, loving how you spoke to him all soft and fatigued yet affectionately. You were too good for him, having him feel guilty for fisting his cock unbeknownst to you.

He couldn’t take it anymore, being away from you. He could barely go through the first week, and the second had him itching to see you. That’s precisely what he did, calling you to let you know he’d come to see you. And once you opened the door to greet him with a warm smile, that last bit of thread in him had finally snapped.

“Nnmmah! Hic…shtooopp licking…! I’ll cum again, I’m gonna—!!”

After pulling you in for a hungry kiss, the man brought himself inside your apartment with you glued to him. Feverish pecks kept your lips on him, squeaking at how smoothly he picked you up and brought you to the living room couch. He’d suck on your neck while removing your bottoms, already stifling him with your fragrance to the point he shudders. 

He’d trail his kisses downwards, nibbling on certain areas that made you gasp for him, sucking on the skin of your inner thigh as his fingers rubbed on your folds covered by damp underwear. You had him on his knees, uncaring about the angle. His thoughts only thinking about the wet chasm he sees after discarding your panties. Nothing holds him back from plunging his face into your wetness and showing no signs of stopping when you’re wailing for him. He’d lick, lap, and suck on you with no remorse, face utterly stuck on your slit until you came for the first time. 

“—Ahhaa, I’m cummin’, Tojiii! OhJesusChrist—Nnnmoo!”

“Mmmph…! Fuck, c’mere, sweetie, lemme take care of you…”

And now, he’s chased you down for another climax, your legs tremble and your figure shakes as Toji’s tongue relentlessly pets around your labia, frantically licking your clit to expel more fluids to seep out your vagina.

And Toji drinks it all, stuffing his face into your inner thighs like breathing is not an issue. You cry and involuntarily try to close your legs as your nerves are at an all-time high, grabbing tuffs of raven hair. But the man doesn’t allow you to shy away, his strong hands keeping you grounded on the couch as he eats you out. They never leave your frame unless it’s to unzip his jeans to let his erection breathe. Your cute howls of pleasure, your delightful fluids painting his tongue and lips, and your intoxicating smell; all have his hard-on twitch painfully, precum staining his boxer briefs. 

He’s so far gone, his scarred lips kissing on your folds to gently juxtapose the tongue he uses to fuck you. You jerk and jolt, sobbing from the fervent mouth making sure every crevice of your cunt goes explored. Your orgasm still isn’t away, everything feels so sensitive that you feel like you could break.

“Tahhh, Toji, nooo,” you wail, trying to push his head from burrowing deeper between your thighs. Yet he shows no cooperation. “I just came, yer doing t’oo muuch…!”

Now, he finally removes his face from you, his chin wet with your essence which he licks from his lips. “Sorry, mama,” his rich emerald eyes lock with yours, they have you freeze under his gaze. “But I’m not done yet.” You shake your head, inching your hips away from his proximity. But he captures your waist and slides you back down. “Don’t,” he pleads, placing your legs on his shoulders. “One more time fr’ me, ‘kay, baby? Let Daddy have ya one more time.”

An excruciatingly slow lick from down your slit to your clitoris has you quiver, sloppy kisses further the mess of saliva and come between your legs, and you can’t control the throbbing sensation that returns to ache your inner walls. He chuckles, “Look at ya winkin’ at me, guess ya want more of me too, huh, sweetie?” He makes your ears ring and hot, throwing your head back when he spits and sucks on your clit harshly.

This time, Toji straightens his back a bit to lift your legs with him, hands securing you close to him on your hips. It was a view you hadn’t mentally prepared for, seeing your weight be supported easily. 

He continues to lap around your labia, taking in all the excess slick to suck on, not leaving any drop go undiscovered. His precision has you roll your eyes to the ceiling, a hand griping on his wrist as he rubs on your clit.

“Ohhhfuuuck,” your words were slurring together, brain too mushy to cooperate and form eligible sentences. The man between your legs makes that hard enough. You don’t even attempt to squirm out because Toji’s lips will latch right back onto you. “Daddyyy, right there…More, pleasee.”

“Good girl,” he praises, rewarding you with swirls circling your clitoris before a suck, and your legs cross around to push him further. “That’s my girl…Mmmm, fuckin’ Christ, taste too good…” His deep voice sends vibrations up your spine, chewing on your lip when his tongue nestles in between your soaked folds again.

He pushes the wet muscle back inside, groaning at the sensation of you clamping onto him and bucking your hips in his direction. Your cries fill the quiet space, his name coming out in rushed prayers was the only thing that occupies his eardrums. Fuck, he missed this so fucking bad, arms wrapping around your waist as he pushes his face deep, his nose bumping to the hoop of your pearl while he ravishes your insides.

The squelches of his tongue and lips are so raunchy and nasty, you feel like filth being used like this. You’ve long given up the control to conceal your moans, and Toji listens to every single one with intent. 

“—Ohhh! Ffsshiiit…!” Oh, no. You can feel it, the next wave climbing up. “Daddy, again! Gonna cum again, I cann’t...!”

“Yes, you can, mama,” he coos, blowing on your slick-covered lips. “Just a lil’ more fr’ me, ‘kay? Just let it out.” His mouth returns to erratically fuck you with his tongue, and his gruff moans are felt on your body. The pressure of your thighs squeezing him makes it better, hitting your delicate clit with gentle jabs that rock you into your third orgasm.

You scream, unleashing yourself as your climax rocks your being. Toji has a good hold on you, softly using the flat of his tongue to lazily lick your cunt, massaging your waist as your hips ride on his face. And it doesn’t help that the older man’s cock is oozing on his briefs, his thighs twitching with his erection wanting to be freed.

With a dangerous last kiss to your sensitive folds, Toji places your legs back onto the couch, wiping your come off his chin to lick his fingers clean before bringing his jeans and briefs.

“Wh..What’s gotten into you,” you ask with furrowed brows and hooded eyes like his, both misty with wanton thirst. “I see you’ve been more pent up than me.” He chortles at your jest, and you happily accept the tip of his cock into your mouth with a blissful hum.

“You have no idea, baby…”

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ✩ dividers by @/benkeibear.

[disbabeled]

Do you know how many times a day I want to scream at people "THIS ISN'T FOR YOU!" ?

Just yesterday, I was ten minutes late to my tutorial class because for whatever reason, almost every single person in my lecture decided to use the elevator instead of going down one flight of stairs while me and my classmates -- the ones who didn't have that choice -- were stuck waiting for the next elevator.

I constantly have to navigate around people walking up the ramps -- or, worse, standing in the middle of them -- because they couldn't get off their phones for two seconds to use the stairs instead.

At least twice a week I end up in far more pain than usual because people who don't need them take up the accessible seats on the bus and I either have to stand there and wait for somebody to get up (Which is already hard on my body) or just wrap my arm around the pole and try to suffer through a few stops until somebody gets off (Which has already caused several dislocations). As much as people like to brag about how they'd "always give up their seat for a poor handicapped person", they're far more likely to stay right where they are and ignore you in favour of watching Instagram reels on their phone.

And I've tried asking people to move. Directly. Making eye contact and everything. They'll just look down at their phone and ignore me until the bus driver or somebody else says something. And only then can they magically notice me and get up.

Before I get a bunch of people leaping to yell about people with invisible disabilities: I know. I know there are people with invisible disabilities, I spent most of my life with only invisible disabilities. I can guarentee that not every single person in my lecture of 60 people has an invisible disability. This is not the problem.

The problem is that able bodied people see these resources and supports made specifically for physically disabled people and assume they're entitled to them. Most of them see it as something that's put in place just to comply with certain rules or laws or regulations as a 'just in case' thing. Nobody thinks that disabled people are actually out and about. We're an afterthought to them.

And I get it. I do. We all have our blind spots.

But seriously, this is getting ridiculous.

[afortoru]

ceo husband!Toji Zenin x wife!reader

Being a member of the Zenin family Toji has always followed the rules and regulations especially dining table adequates. Eating an adequate amount of food and not being able to ask for more since he doesn't want to gain any unwanted attention while sitting at the family table.

He remembers once when he was a little kid having the family dinner with his parents and other Zenin higher ups and while they were having some starters he dipped his food in sauce which was not served on his plate and oh the hell broke as everyone including the higher ups stared into his soul. It was as if he had done some crime, as if everyone was telling him that how can he be so selfish to think the leftover sauce was all his since now others won't eat it from there even though they wouldn't have.

Wanting to eat from his mom's plate or if he doesn't want to eat something then just giving it to one of his parents was never an option.

That's why Toji avoids family dinner when he grows up as an adult especially with you and his two little sons. He doesn't want his kids to feel the dreadful eyes if they eat while making open mouth sounds or whines on the dinner table.

But being with you he feels so free and careless about those stupid adequate that now since the four of you have come to a restaurant for dinner it's so much easier to eat freely.

When the food arrives and is served to your plates toji and six years old megumi gets their individual plates while your youngest four year old son is sitting on your lap as you feed him little portions as you too eat simultaneously.

At times you look down at Megumi to check if he's eating his food and you'll gently wipe the extra sauce around his mouth. Megumi leans over his dad wanting to be fed from him and toji complies.

"mama, can I have what gumi nissan is eating?", the little one on your lap asks with wide innocent eyes.

"it's the same food baby...", you chuckled and Megumi cut a piece and leaned closer to his little brother to feed him and the little boy oh so happily takes the bite making his nissan feel proud because now Megumi feels like he's just like you.

"gumi? You can't eat that anymore, can you?", you asked looking down at Megumi staring at his plate with his leftovers and you already knew his little tummy was full and he couldn't take in more.

"it's alright I'll eat on your plate", you replied as now Megumi was relieved that there won't be any waste of food from his side.

Toji who has been observing all of this feels like a kid again, like he's allowed to make mistakes and not get those dreadful treatment. He's glad that his kids don't have to experience the stupid adequates instead they can just be kids freely.

"uh...it's alright darling, I'll have it. You eat from the fresh one." He says making you look up at him.

"hmm? Uh alright.", you smiled passing megumi's plate towards toji and Megumi was already serving the food on your plate with his little careful hands. When he was done, he looked up at you with crinkling eyes as if saying mama, I'm learning.

You smiled and pet his head.

Toji moves closer and wraps his arms from the side around his family making you three look up at his sudden gesture. No questions were asked as you know sometimes your husband gets overwhelming love for you three and this big man gotta do something to relieve himself so he attacks you three like this.

Toji then pulled away and smiled to himself as he ate from his son's leftover plate and you couldn't help but chuckle at him.

Divider by @/saradika-graphics

[fangdokja]

A Heart Devoured (AHD) : A Dark Yandere Anthology

Step into a world of dangerous devotion and forbidden desires. A Heart Devoured is a collection of hauntingly seductive one-shots and imagines, each exploring the intoxicating grip of male yanderes. From possessive protectors to manipulative masterminds, these stories dive deep into the dark allure of obsession, blending romance, horror, and suspense.

Whether you crave a lover who would burn the world for you—or one who would chain you to it—this anthology delivers raw passion and chilling intensity that will leave you breathless and craving more.

You are their everything. Escape, if you dare.

Warning: These husbands take "forever" seriously.

────────────

Note: Want to make a LONG request for original yanderes (OC's)? Read the Rules and Regulations, first, before requesting. Failure to abide by the rules will have your request ignored and deleted.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

♡ For Reader-Inserts. I only write Male Yandere x Female (Fem.) Reader (heterosexual couple). No LGBTQ+:

♡ ⭐. Author's Personal Favorites. ♡ 🔞. NSFW / extremely explicit themes (non-con, sexual torture, dangerous edge play, degradation, humiliation, BDSM, etc.)

♡ Schedule. The following stories are released or scheduled for release:

Table of Contents

Yandere! Alpha! Wolf Hybrid & Little Omega

Drabbles

“You look prettier when you cry.”

“Do you know what I love most about you?”

“You don’t get to decide anymore,”

“And treasures don’t get to escape.”

“You’re waiting for someone to come for you, aren’t you?”

“Cry for me,”

“But don’t worry, darling. I’ll fill it with something better. Me.”

“You’ll only ever have one choice with me,”

Novelette 1 : Marked and Mated

🔞Run all you want, little omega—I love the chase.

Yandere! Chief of Police & Dollface

Headcanons

The sirens wailed, but no one was coming for you—they were his, just like you are now.

Yandere! College! Bully & Loser

Details: MBTI - INTJ ; Enneagram - 8w7

Oneshots

The worst part? You’ve stopped trying to fight it.

Novella 1 : Torn Between Us

In a world where no one cares, he’s the one who notices you… and that’s frightening.

Trust no one. Not even yourself.

🔞A night of hedonism becomes your worst nightmare.

🔞Part 4

Yandere! Criminal Prosecutor & Pet

Drabbles

“Soon, you won’t even remember what freedom tasted like.”

"Kneel. Now."

Oneshots

“This isn’t an interrogation. It’s a love story—you just don’t know it yet.”

Yandere! Divorce Attorney & Church Girl

Headcanons

In his world, love isn’t a choice—it’s a life sentence.

Novella 1 : Skin of the Saint

He didn’t believe in love, but she made him question everything.

She was everything he despised, and yet he kept returning.

She lived for her God; he lived to see her fall.

⭐He couldn’t touch her purity, but he could burn everything around her.

He wasn’t your savior, but he would break you like a sinner.

His love was a sin, but sins could be absolved—couldn’t they?

A stolen kiss, a forged marriage, and a choice that would ruin more than just your life.

🔞He kissed her like a punishment, touched her like a prayer.

Novelette 2 : Angels Cry, Devils Burn

Angels Cry, Devils Burn 1

Yandere! Emperor & Little Dove

Details: MBTI - ENFJ ; Enneagram - 8w7

Drabbles

“Do you know why I haven’t kissed you yet?”

“Do you like it?”

Headcanons

"I burned their world for daring to look at you—imagine what I’d do if you tried to leave."

Yandere! Ex-Boyfriend & Cheating Bitch

Details: MBTI - ENTP ; Enneagram - 7w8

Drabbles

“You disobeyed me. Again.”

“Miss me?”

“Pray I don’t snap. Because if I do, you won’t survive it.”

Novella 1 : Friction & Fire

She wasn't looking for love, but love wasn't asking for permission.

Some truths are better left buried.

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Yandere! FBI Agent & Sweets

Oneshots

He knows your favorite color, your childhood fears, and how you’ll look in a coffin.

Yandere! Hitman & любимая {darling}

Oneshots

“You should’ve pulled the trigger when you had the chance.”

Yandere! Hockey Captain & Ice Princess

Oneshots

You skate for freedom, but he’s about to make you his trophy.

Yandere! Isekai! Knight & Little Mouse

Details: MBTI - ENTJ; Enneagram - 8w7

Headcanons

What happens when a hero's love turns into an obsession that even he can't control?

Oneshots

In his eyes, your defiance isn’t strength—it’s foreplay.

Yandere! Marine Corps & Good Girl

Details: MBTI - ISTP ; Enneagram - 6w5

Oneshots

He crushed a man’s skull beneath his boot and turned to you with a smile.

"You’ll never escape me—not when I’m the only one keeping you alive."

Yandere! Nerd & Little Sugar

Details: MBTI - INTJ ; Enneagram - 6w5

Drabbles

“You think this is a game?”

Oneshots

No one else noticed the quiet boy in the corner, but he’s all you’ll notice now.

Yandere! Owner (?) & ???

Oneshots

Sold to the highest bidder—your nightmare begins now.

Yandere! Painter & ???

Drabbles

"You like testing me, don’t you?"

Yandere! Prison Warden & Fuckin' Filth

Oneshots

In this prison, there are no rules—except for his.

The rules are simple: obey, or suffer. And you’ve already broken every single one.

Yandere! Professional Gambler & Doll

Headcanons

He’s the last bet you’ll ever make—and the one you’ll never walk away from.

Yandere! Reverse Harem & Rape Slave

Novella 1 : Killer Charm

🔞Killer Charm 1

🔞Killer Charm 2

🔞Killer Charm 3

🔞Killer Charm 4

Yandere! Russian! Mafia Boss & Wife

Details: MBTI - ENTJ ; Enneagram - 8w7

Novella 1 : The Enemy In His Bed

⭐️🔞"I trusted you, wife, and now I'll teach you what betrayal feels like."

There is no safe word. There is no escape.

Yandere! Spanish Pirate Captain & Mi Tesoro {treasure}

Novelette 1 : El Capitán's Tesoro

🔞When the Capitán says you're his treasure, he means it—he’ll spill blood, even yours, to keep it.

Yandere! Stalker & ???

Oneshots

The man in your apartment knows you better than you know yourself.

Yandere! Sugar Daddy & Sugar Baby (?)

Drabbles

“You didn’t think I’d let you leave after the vows, did you?”

“What the fuck was that?”

Headcanons

⭐You’ve never feared a kiss before, but his feels like a loaded gun.

Novella 1 : Bye, Bye, Bye

In his world, sugar babies don’t get to keep secrets.

He gave you everything, but all you gave him was distance—and it was driving him mad.

The rules were clear: no emotions, no questions, no attachments—until he broke every single one.

Jealousy is a fire, and he’ll burn anyone who gets too close.

🔞He’s not just your sugar daddy—he’s a sadistic master who won’t let you go.

When devotion turns to madness, no one is safe—not even the one he loves.

Novella 2 : Money, Money, Money

Money, Money, Money 1

Yandere! Vigilante & Sweetheart

Headcanons

"I’ll burn the world if it means keeping you warm in the ashes."

He’d rather destroy you than let someone else touch you—because if you’re not his, you’re nothing.

Oneshots

He’s the savior of many—but your destruction is his true mission.

Yandere! Volleyball Captain & Babe

Oneshots

“They all warned you about me, didn’t they? But you just couldn’t stay away.”

Yandere! Zombie Apocalypse! Survivor & Little Prey

Details: MBTI - ISTP; Enneagram - 8w7

Drabbles

“No, I’d rather keep you. Watch you squirm. Hear you beg.”

Oneshots

⭐️In the world of the dead, he was the only thing keeping you alive—and tearing you apart.

If you want to be added or removed from the tag list, just comment on this post. Thank you.

General TAG LIST of “A Heart Devoured”: @definetlythinkimanalien , @floooring , @lilyalone , @theogborjie , @ne7zach , @songbirdgardensworld , @imnotabot28 , @ncsltgic , @aishiyaa , @scotchhopin , @queenmimis , @yandreams-storageblog , @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni , @iris-arcadia

❤︎ Fang Dokja's Books.

♡ Book 1 [you are here]. A Heart Devoured (AHD): A Dark Yandere Anthology

♡ Book 2. Forbidden Fruits (FF): Intimate Obsessions, Unhinged Desires.

♡ Book 3. World Ablaze (WA) : For You, I'd Burn the World.

♡ Book 4. Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows.

♡ Book 5. Ink & Insight (I&I): From Dead Dove to Daydreams.

♡ Library MASTERPOST 1. The Librarian’s Ledger: A Map to The Library of Forbidden Texts.

♡ Disclaimer. Not all stories are included in the masterpost due to Tumblr’s link limitations. However, most long-form stories can be found here. If you're searching for a specific yandere or theme, this guide will help you navigate The Library of Forbidden Texts. Proceed with caution—these tales explore obsession, madness, and devotion in their rawest forms.

[reidrum]

the prophecy part 1:

cards on the table, mine played out like fools in a fable | s.r.

A/N: trying something new…..this one’s been on my mind for too long and the angst hurt too good. sorry in advance ! perhaps a part 2 who’s to say ..,,,..,. ?

cw: bau!fem!reader, spoilers for prison arc, implied talks of SA (referring to when lindsey doses spencer in mexico), maeve donovan, just angst bro this doesn’t end well

summary: you and jj accompany spencer to cat’s correctional facility to play her games, except there’s more than one loser

wc: 2.1k

part 1 part 2 part 3

——————————————————————————

Cat Adams’ taunts and demands have led Spencer, JJ, and you to visit her in her correctional facility to play whatever game she has for him. Emily had you and JJ go with him given his erratic state from just being released, in hopes that you both could regulate and monitor the whole meeting.

You and JJ watch Spencer walk in stoically, sitting down across from Cat as she smiles at him. He angrily demands for his mother’s location, but she gets upset and tells him that he doesn’t get to treat her like a criminal. She only agrees to tell him the location if he plays her game, and figures out the secret she knows about Spencer.

Spencer’s brain works overtime to figure out what he’s missing, what Cat could possibly be holding against him that would make him deny the truth of it. He runs through all the scenarios; Spencer being able to now understand how it feels to have a parent used as a pawn, Cat wanting him to admit his love for her. But she shakes her head and reveals that a clue was left in a scrapbook in Spencer’s apartment.

You remember you took a picture of it when you went with Spencer to scope it out, and pulled it out to show JJ.

“Is that an X and a Y?” She ponders, “What could that mean?”

“I think it’s…” You stop halfway, realizing what it means. Your face drops and you look back in the room to watch Spencer come to the same conclusion.

“We’re pregnant!” Cat sings.

You and JJ look at each other in shock, the blonde’s voice slowly drowning out as you sink further into the Cat shaped hole. You vaguely hear her mention going to the guard to find her medical records, but all you can think about is how she could be bearing Spencer’s child.

Spencer and you had been together for a little over two years now. While still in the relative early stages, a lot about your relationship had been figured out and solidified. It was the most secure you’d ever felt with anyone, and despite the road bumps with Mexico you felt that you both came through it as well as any couple would in that situation.

You loved Spencer, and Spencer loved you. Right now was just another one of those road bumps, just like Mexico. That’s what you needed to tell yourself.

JJ bursts through the door with the medical documents, “I got them.” breaking you out of your spiral. You both anxiously look at the paper to find a little (+) sign ticked next to the pregnant box.

Cat Adams really was pregnant. You think you could be sick, you feel JJ’s hand grip your arm in an attempt to tether you back down, but it’s a futile effort. Your brain has already taken the information and ran a billion different directions with it, each coming up with a more crazy conclusion.

You stare blankly into the interrogation room as Spencer vehemently denies the child being his, denying any such way that it could even be his. The disbelief is ruling his words as he shuts down any theory that gives it truth, until Cat reminds him of the heavy dose he was given in Mexico. It hit him then, if he could barely remember the third person in that room, he had no bearing on whatever else transpired.

Spencer tries not to let the anxiety and shock show on his face as he sits down to face Cat in the eyes, “How did you do it?”

“I gave Lindsey very specific instructions to get you in the mood.”

“She pretend to be you?”

“Why, would that have worked?”

“No.” he says sternly.

She pauses, ego clearly bruised, “Yeah, I know. I know. Believe me, I know exactly where I stand on the Spencer Reid "Hot or Not" list. I told her to pretend to be Maeve. Maeve Donovan, who had her brains blown out right in front of you before you two could even kiss.”

Spencer’s face falls. No, he thinks, no no no. He looks back at the one way window behind him, knowing very well he can’t see you but you’re watching everything unfold disastrously.

Your heart drops so fast it could have very well been seismic. To your horror, Cat continues.

“I thought about telling her to pretend to be your little BAU girlfriend,” she chuckles, “But then I realized, you only had one love of your life. and you won’t let anyone else measure up.” She leans in closer, “By the way, I know that you still think about Maeve when you’re, you know, with your little crime fighter over there. But don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.” She gives an over exaggerated wink to the window.

Spencer feels like he’s seeing white, anger coursing through his body as the reality of his situation comes to a head. He’s definitely not thinking when he pushes the table aside harshly, grabbing Cat by the collar and pushing her against the wall. He’s only able to stop when JJ is beside him suddenly attempting to pull him back, reminding him that she’s pregnant.

His fists are clenched and without a second thought he storms out of the room, his tunnel vision taking him right past you and JJ.

JJ doesn’t know what to do, she looks back into the room to see Cat smirking to herself, and god if she didn’t have morals she’d finish what Spencer started. She thinks it’s wise to go after Spencer and check on him, knowing that Cat’s timer is still ticking and the faster he gets back in there the sooner they can find his mother.

But then she looks at you and suddenly her feet are rooted next to yours.

She lays her hand on your shoulder and gently speaks, “Hey, I’m right here okay?”

You nod mindlessly, hoping you can keep the ocean of tears at bay with whatever resolve you can muster. She squeezes her hand at your acknowledgment and doesn’t move.

How is she supposed to even comfort you? How are you supposed to process this?

You knew how important Maeve Donovan was to Spencer. The whole thing had happened a year before you joined the team, only having heard the story through your teammates. It was tragic, there was no other way to put it, and your heart clenched for Spencer for having to go through that by himself. When you both first started dating, he disclosed the more intimate details to you, wanting nothing to be left unspoken about his past to affect his future with you.

What a cruel twist of fate.

“I—I think,” you stutter, “I have to go, JJ, I can’t be here right now.”

“But—“ She starts.

You cut her off, “No, JJ you have to go talk to Spencer and get him back in there. The longer his mom is with Lindsey…” you trail off.

She nods, understanding that you’re thinking about the priorities right now, “Okay, okay I’ll go find him. Where are you going to go?”

You could go home, the one you share with Spencer. Or you could go back to the office, the one you also share with Spencer.

Every realization adds another needle to your stack, and you’re about to crumble under the weight. “I—I don’t know.” You whimper.

JJ closes her eyes to think quickly and grips your shoulders, “Go back to the BAU okay? I’m going to call Emily and tell her to expect you back, you go straight there, do you understand me?” she emphasizes. JJ is smart enough to know that you cannot be alone right now, and that Spencer wouldn’t be able to scrounge up whatever focus he could into getting answers from Cat if he knew you had left by yourself to god knows where.

All you could do was nod, and hope and pray that your feet would carry you to the car and back to the bureau. JJ was nervous having you drive back, but she really didn’t have a choice. All she could do was notify Emily, as well as Penelope for tracking purposes, that you were headed back, and to not ask you too many questions.

After you left, JJ stood in the waiting room for a brief moment before going to find where Spencer went. She finds him sitting on the floor of an unused interrogation room with his head tucked into his knees.

She speaks quietly to not startle him, “Hey.”

He looks up at the voice, JJ noticing his eyes flit around and behind her as if looking for something, or someone. His eyes sulk back when he’s unable to find it.

Spencer opens his mouth to speak, “Is she—“

“She’s going back to the BAU, Emily knows she’s on the way,” she cuts him off already anticipating his question, “Listen, whatever you’re feeling about what just happened right now has to be paused. You need to focus and finish this stupid game with Cat so we can find your mother and be done with her.” She grits out.

He sighs shakily, he doesn’t even want to think about what must be going through your head. As much as it pained him to experience her vitriol first hand, you were on the other side of that window listening to every word Cat spewed out. And somehow, knowing you watched all of that hurt worse than Mexico, worse than Tobias Hankel, and even worse than Maeve Donovan.

Cat was playing a deeply fucked psychological game with him, and she had now called you in as a pawn. You, his darling girl. The one who made him see the light of the sun after it was constantly being put out, the one who loved him through his mother’s illness and wrongful imprisonment, the one who is, with all and every bit of certainty, the love of his life.

If the velvet black box in his sock drawer was any testament to the power that love held, he hoped it would take mercy on him in this moment.

He stands up and paces the room for a moment before kicking the chair to the other side of the room. JJ startles, her eyes widening but attempting to remain neutral faced as Spencer sorts out his emotions.

“Spence, we need to focus,” she reminds him, “Time is running out.”

“I know,” he mumbles and paces the room hoping to have a stroke of insight, “I have an idea.”

———

You must be no better than a zombie in the final apocalypse when you walk into the bullpen, stumbling around with glassy eyes, no regard for what’s in your way. The apathetic coping mechanism you’ve deployed almost makes you seem as mindless as those monsters, if it weren’t for Penelope to show up and steady you.

“I gotcha, honey,” She makes eye contact with Emily, acknowledging that she’s got you, before turning back to you again, “Come here, let’s sit down.” Penelope sits you down in the nearest chair and drags another one for her to sit right next to you.

You don’t speak for an hour after sitting. Penelope doesn’t ask, only checking in every ten minutes to see if you want a snack or some water, to which you shake your head no every time. She’s too busy typing away on her laptop getting information that could help the team find Spencer’s mother, the last thing you want to be is a bump in the road for them.

Another hour passes before the team exits the conference room, alerting you and Penelope that they think they’ve found the cabin where Diana and Lindsey are. Emily gathers everything they need before approaching you in the bullpen.

“Do I have to be here when you guys come back?” You ask quietly.

Emily sighs, understanding the gravity of your circumstance, “No, you don’t. Will you let Garcia drop you home though? Give us all a peace of mind.” She chuckles humorlessly, unknowingly squeezing the other shoulder JJ didn’t.

You know the ‘all’ she’s referring to really just means one person. It doesn’t make you feel any better, but you don’t think it’s meant to. She brings you in for a tight hug, “I’ll check on you after, okay?”

You nod and release from her embrace. Penelope gathers her things next to you and you both walk to the elevator.

“Honey,” It pained Garcia to see you like this, and she didn’t know how she could help, “What can I do?”

You sniffle and shrug, there isn’t much she can do. There isn’t even much that you could do. Not that anything you could do would be enough, it was never enough. Not for you, not for the team, and not for Spencer.

With a bitter chuckle you answer Penelope’s question,

“Bring back Maeve.”

[redeemingvillains]

cold comfort - mattheo riddle

summary: mattheo has one rule: any girl can share his bed (and there's been plenty) but none can stay the night. when the unexpected happens, and you're begging to be the first, you find out why he had the rule in the first place.

word count: 4k

soundtrack: between the sheets - imogen heap

a/n: wait this is kind of a saga! it just kept flowing and flowing, but i'm obsessed with it! hope you enjoy!! ♡♡

When Mattheo heard that a first year in Charms cast a spell that backfired so badly it rendered Hogwarts unable to regulate the temperature in the castle, he'd nearly spit out his firewhiskey. The mental image of Flitwick, McGonagall and all of his other professors frantically trying to fix it to no avail gave him sick pleasure as he thought about all the times they'd looked down on him because of his last name. Fuck 'em he thought. Serves them right.

He'd enjoyed his twisted happiness for several days until an unexpected early spring snowstorm rolled off the mountains, leaving the castle a veritable chamber of cold. For two days now it had nearly been cold enough for him to see the white puff of his breath inside. As others scrambled for a place in front of the fireplaces, his mood darkened, making him even more sullen than usual as talk of canceling classes and sending everyone home began to circulate; home wasn't really a place he was looking to go back to.

So now he was sat in the Great Hall in a large sweatshirt with his hood drawn up around his face, the standard dress code long since forgotten, one hand wound tightly around his second cup of black tea in an effort to warm himself while the other rubbed his tired face as he listened to the incessant chatter of his friends.

He was quietly zoned out until he caught a glimpse of you walking through the large entryway. Everyone in the castle looked in disarray: mismatched sweaters, hats and gloves in haphazard layers to stay warm, but not you, you looked like a perfect snowbunny. You were wearing tight black leggings, fur-lined boots, a thick sweater and a headband to keep your ears warm that complimented your hair. Anyone looking closely enough would see the imperceptible tug of his lips into what could almost be called a smile as you made your way to the Slytherin table and slid onto the bench next to him.

It wasn't lost on him that his best friend was beautiful. He was well and painfully aware of the fact and had been for as long as he'd known you. But, despite the thoughts that ran rampant through his mind at the sight of you, he was determined to keep you at an arm's length. Simply put, you were too good for him, too pure. You had a smile that radiated a warmth that he could feel even now, you were caring and compassionate, smart and sweet, quick with a hug and a kind word. You were everything that he wasn't. He told himself, constantly, on repeat, that it was better to have you in his life at all than to fuck it up trying for anything more.

He subtly traced your face through the corner of his eye: your long lashes, the curve of your smile, and your warm, rosy cheeks, and just like no one but you could see his smile, no one but him noticed the tiredness in your eyes. He nudged his shoulder into yours.

"Alright?" he mumbled.

You glanced up at him, his groggy morning voice and the way his curls stuck out from his hood making you feel like you'd swallowed a pixie. You felt yourself flush, your exhaustion wearing down the mask you normally kept up around him, determined to never let him know how you really felt.

"Just tired s'all" you smiled kindly, nudging him back, coaxing what could almost be another smile out of him as you met each other's eyes. "I can't sleep for shit. No matter what I do, I can't get warm, even under a pile of blankets, in my fuzziest pajamas and a jumper" you shivered.

"Skin to skin is really the only solution" Pansy chimed in with a smirk as she sank further into Draco's arms and you rolled your eyes at the two of them. She had snuck out of your room the last few nights, leaving you not only cold, but alone too.

"Couldn't agree more" Theo said, smirking, before lifting an eyebrow at you "ready, able and at your service, babe" he said, opening his arms to you as you swatted him away, laughing at his attempt to flirt with you. He smiled widely and laughed back before glancing over your shoulder at Mattheo whose eyes were narrowed in his direction.

"What, mate, it's not like you're any help, what with your strict 'no sleepover policy'" Theo chirped at him, referring to the fact that regardless of how many girls came in and out of Mattheo's bed, (which was a sizable number) not one had ever stayed the night, always kicked out in the end, despite the fact that they hoped to be the one to break his streak.

You turned to see Mattheo shooting daggers at Theo.

"S'my bed" he muttered, "more than happy to have someone in it for awhile, but a lad's got to get his rest, yeah?" he laughed and the guys laughed back.

You faked a bitter smile, returning your attention to your breakfast in front of you. You weren't naive but that didn't mean you had to sit here and listen to this, you nibbled a piece of dry toast, the mental image of Mattheo with other girls making you nauseous.

Mattheo's smile fell from his face as he watched your reaction, and wished for the thousandth time that he could tell you that he made that rule because of you. Because if he couldn't have you, then he wasn't going to waste time getting closer than necessary with anyone else; the nights he spent alone his bed his punishment for who he was, the fact that he'd never be good enough for you.

You stood abruptly and shot him a small smile as you moved to leave. He said your name quietly and reached for your hand, but you were gone before you realized it.

That night you crawled into cold sheets that felt almost damp with a chill. Despite the pile of blankets and your thick pajamas, you couldn't get warm or comfortable, tossing and turning as small shivers ran through your body and Pansy's words echoed in your head. You were desperate for warmth at this point, desperate for a good night's sleep, but there was only one bed you wanted to crawl into, and it was with the only person who refused to share it.

Surely he would break his rule for you, for his best friend? you thought; things were different between you two. But were you willing to try, to embarrass yourself if he said no? You rolled around for another hour before climbing out of bed.

Mattheo was in a fitful sleep, which was not unusual for him; his nights were frequented by nightmares, leaving him constantly groggy and grumpy, but when he heard your voice, he was sure he was dreaming, a good dream, a great dream at that.

"Mattheo" you were whispering.

He turned to see you standing at the other side of his bed and was incredibly confused, until you moved to get in... and then he panicked. He panicked because he had thoughtfully planned every way to avoid this exact situation from the moment he met you, knowing that at this proximity he wouldn't be able to control himself. And he was right. You were close, too close. He could smell your shampoo, like warm vanilla, and his hands moved on autopilot towards you, his fingers twitching to bring you closer to him before he stopped himself, inches short.

"Whatareyoudoing?!" he whisper-mumbled in frustration, the words coming out angrier than he'd intended at the range of emotions he was feeling.

You froze, your heart shattering. He was angry. He didn't want you here, he didn't want anyone here. He was going to kick you out and you'd be mortified, your friendship would never be the same, you'd taken things too far. You felt a scratch in your throat as tears threatened to spring forward.

Even in the thick darkness, Mattheo could see that he'd upset you, able to read your expressions better than his own. He could see the wobble of your bottom lip as your wide eyes looked at him and he hated himself and the situation all the more for it.

"Please Matty, m'just so cold, I can't sleep" you whispered, using the nickname that was strictly forbidden for anyone but you that made him melt.

He rubbed a hand over his face and sighed deeply, trying in his sleepy state to figure out a solution as he felt his strength waning; the figment of his every daydream was literally begging to be in his bed and he was certain he couldn't trust himself, certain that this only ended one way.

You took in his rigid form and his frustration and began to backpedal, moving to leave.

"M'sorry, it's okay, I'll go, maybe Theo—"

And you didn't even get a chance to finish your thought before you felt his large, warm hands wrap around your middle and tug you across the bed and into his chest, quickly but gently.

"C'mere" he mumbled as he settled you against him, chest to chest, your head tucked under his.

Your arms wound around him naturally, your legs intertwining, the two of you fitting together effortlessly, perfectly, like puzzle pieces. You let out a small giggle as you nuzzled into him, making yourself comfortable.

He could feel your warm breath as you let out a contented sigh, the innocent sound somehow sinful to his ears as he willed his mind to stop wandering in every direction it wanted to as he felt every dip and curve of your body against his own despite the layers of clothing between you. He kept his hands at your back, unmoving, for a moment unsure if he was even doing this right, unable to remember the last time he'd cuddled with anyone.

"Thank you" you whispered, your voice already sounding relaxed and sleepy to him as your fingers traced patterns on his back, a lavish feeling that released every ounce of tension he had been holding.

You could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest as his arms hugged you to him firmly and you felt a sensation like melted honey spreading through every inch of you, as he rubbed your back, warming you from your heart to the tips of your toes for the first time in days as you fell into a hazy sleep.

The first thought Mattheo had was that he felt heavy, his limbs felt weighted and his mind felt calm. Rested he realized after a moment. His brain was slowly turning back on, piecing together the dream he'd had, it was a dream, right? You, in his bed, in his arms, pressed against him, nuzzling into him, contented and happy. It felt so real, real enough that he could still smell you, the intoxicating scent of your shampoo, could still feel you in his arms, could still ghost his fingers down your back. You hummed in response and his eyes fluttered open only to realize it was definitely not a dream.

You were here, with him, in his bed, had been all night, your body still wound perfectly in his, neither of you having let go of one another or moved an inch; if anything, it was like you melded together even further. Fuck this is nice he thought as he looked down at you curled into his chest. This was everything, everything he'd hoped it would be. He wanted to stay like this for as long as physically possible, the looming fear of it having to come to an end already upon him.

Suddenly, a pillow came flying onto the bed, askewing the thick curtains that draped around his four-poster.

"Oi wake up, will you, Riddle? Shit, it's almost noon and we've got practice in an hour" came a shout as a cacophony of voices followed behind it into the room.

You stirred in Mattheo's arms just as a hand reached through his curtains to pull them aside.

"Oh. My. Fucking. Days" Blaise drawled, annunciating every word as the others gathered around him.

"I knew it, I fucking knew it"

"Let's gooooooo!!"

"Mattttyyyy!!!" each of them shouted as the jumped up and down in excitement at the sight of you in his bed.

"Fuck off" he said, grasping the pillow they'd thrown at him and hucking it back at them, causing them to disperse as they fell apart with laughter and more cheers.

He felt you shift next to him and looked back to see that you had pulled the covers over your head, just the tips of your fingers and the top of your head visible. He yanked his curtain closed before leaning back towards you and gently grasping the blanket near your hands to pull it back.

While not the wakeup you had hoped for nor expected, Mattheo pulling back the blankets with a soft sleep-ridden smile on his face and his rumpled curls to see you was a mental image that you were sure you would think about every day for the rest of your life. You were swimming in a sea of him, engulfed in his smell, like pine and amber, and you were delightfully warm; he was going to have to pry you out of here.

"Hi" he said quietly in his morning voice.

"Hi" you whispered back.

You looked perfect. He may have thought about waking up to you, with significantly less clothing on and significantly fewer onlookers, but he'd never considered how beautiful you would look, your eyes not all the way open yet, your hair spread like a blanket of its own and fuck if he didn't want to kiss you. His eyes drifted lazily to your lips and back again and he swore he saw a flash of something in your expression in response, curiosity, or perhaps confusion.

"I should—" he started, shaking his head clear.

"—Yeah, of course! Sorry, I didn't realize the time—"

"No problem, take your time—" he said as he rolled out of bed to more cheers and shouts as he shepherded his friends out the door to give you some privacy.

You pulled the sheets back over your heard, burying yourself further into his blankets, reveling in the warmth his body had left before squealing with excitement at the way your day had started.

You were afraid that things would be awkward, but surprisingly they weren't, you were in your easy, unbothered rhythm together. Besides the giggles and teasing from your friends, nothing had changed... including the temperature. As the day went on the warmth you had woken up in faded and you felt progressively more cold settling into your bones, already dreading the cold night ahead of you.

Spending the night with Mattheo was a nice reprieve, but not something you intended to make a habit of, certain you didn't want to live through more teasing nor get your hopes up trying to read into how intimate it had felt.

You were leaving dinner, arms wound around yourself at the chill in the air when you heard a voice calling for you. You turned to see Mattheo jogging after you.

"Hey!" he called.

"Hey" you smiled back, glancing up at him as he fell into step with you.

He smiled readily back at you; he'd seemed peppier today, letting the ceaseless taunting roll of his back with a shrug of his shoulders, the unwillingness to turn everything into an argument or fistfight very uncharacteristic of him.

"Yeah, so—" he started to say, as he looked around for a moment and carded his hand through his hair. He took in how cold you looked and all he could think was how badly he wanted to fix it. "—About last night or whatever...I know it's still fucking frigid, if you wanted to come by or sleep with, er, stay with — in my — yeah, you could do it again if you wanted?"

You couldn't hide the smile the spread widely across your face, nor the way your eyes sparkled mischievously as you stopped walking to face him.

"Mattheo Riddle, are you asking me to sleep with you?" you said flirtatiously, leaning towards him.

He stopped breathing. Your proximity and the words coming out of your mouth snatched every last breath and every last thought he'd had.

"Don't fuck around with me" he said through smirked lips, his voice low and measured, holding a hint of playfulness, but also a warning.

You laughed softly back but didn't back down.

"I'll see you tonight" you said as you continued your path back to the common room, leaving him gazing after you.

Your new outfit that night wasn't lost on him. You were wearing a form-fitting pair of soft pants and a matching top that hung slightly off your shoulder, revealing the lace of a bralette. You crawled into bed beside him, smiling contentedly and curling into his arms like you were married, like this was the most normal, easy, simple thing in the world, and yet it still took him a minute to really comprehend the situation, to relax.

He barely had a minute to catch his breath before Blaise shouted across the room, "Goodnight Theo!"

"Night, Blaise!" Theo shouted back.

"Night, Enz!" Blaise said again.

"G'night!" Enzo replied.

Mattheo rubbed a hand over his face at the antic.

"I swear they don't do this every—" he started.

"—Night, Draco!" Blaise shouted.

"And Pans!" Theo chimed in.

"Full fuckin' house in here" Enzo said.

"Goodnight!" she giggled back.

"Goodnight Mattheo..." Blaise said slowly, drawling out his name.

Mattheo didn't reply.

"GOODNIGHT YN" they each shouted.

You laughed, "Goodnight!" you said back and they cheered as Mattheo turned and buried his head into your shoulder in embarrassment, letting his body weight fall on you in exasperation.

You laughed at his reaction, instinctively bringing a hand to tangle in his curls and hold him to you before you could stop yourself. It was decidedly more intimate than anything that had happened between you before, but it had just felt right, something about pulling him into you, comforting him. You paused after a moment, catching yourself... running your hands through his hair should not make you feel this way; suddenly, you were very very warm.

As if he could sense your reaction, he lifted his head just slightly to meet your eyes, his face inches from yours.

He had to feel your heart hammering in your chest at this proximity, right? As he searched your face, it felt like a veil had come down between the two of you after a night spent together on top of years spent dancing around one another like you didn't know exactly what this could be. On cue, the room around you fell deeply silent as the others settled into sleep.

Your hand slowly dropped to trace his cheek.

"YN" he said in a low voice, cautious, guarded, his tone roughly translating to "Don't".

"What?" you whispered.

"I can't" he said.

"Can't what, Matty?"

The nickname made his heart beat double-time, an impossible feat based on the way it was already drumming loudly in his ears.

"You know what" he said sternly.

"Why?" you asked, innocently, the tips of your fingers moving to trace his jaw, nearing his lips before his hand grasped yours firmly, stopping you, making you jump slightly.

His body was rigid and taught, his expression was serious, maybe even threatening to anyone but you, but all you could see was the look in his eyes that were burning with something else, something much more passionate than anger.

His words were strained, like it was a physical effort to form them.

"I. Can't. Alright? Just let it go" he said as his eyes continued to beg otherwise.

Your next words were so soft, he almost didn't hear them, might have missed them if his entire being wasn't fine tuned to hear the exact phrase.

"Kiss me" you said, somewhere between a plea and a demand.

He caught your eye and his breath caught in his throat at the way you were looking at him: your eyes wide, soft and focused on him, your chest visibly rising and falling underneath him, your body pressing against him as you wiggled your hand out of his grasp to trace his cheek. Surely he couldn't have heard you right?

"I'm not—I can't— that's not a good idea. I can't just kiss you" he said, stumbling over his words uncharacteristically.

"Why?" you asked quietly, sadly.

"No—not—fuck—" he started and stopped, trying not to upset you again.

He paused, trying to collect himself.

"Why do you think no other girl has slept in this bed?" he said seriously.

You pulled your hand back at the mention of other girls at a moment like this, but he responded by reaching to cup your cheek, to force you to look at him.

You were shaking your head.

"Because if I couldn't have you, then I didn't want anyone else. You're fucking it for me, always have been, but girls like you don't end up with guys like me and it's best I don't waste your fucking time and ruin our friendship in the process, alright?" he said resolutely, with finality.

"Matty—" you started

"—Please stop calling me that, please" he said, slamming his eyes closed, "I'm trying to maintain a semblance of self control here."

"Stop holding back!" you whisper-yelled, which caught his attention, causing his eyes to flutter open. "That's what I'm trying to tell you. I want you. I've always wanted you, ask any of our thickheaded friends, they've all known for a long time."

He blinked slowly like each individual word had to register in his head. You could see him swallow, could see the sentence process in his brain as the pad of his thumb traced your cheek and you leaned into him, pressing further against him.

"Kiss me, Matty" you said.

And the last thread of his self control snapped. He leaned in, hovering close enough that you could feel the faintest touch of his lips as they ghosted against yours, teasing you.

"If I kiss you, that's it then, you're mine" he said, like it was a threat, an ultimatum, and not the best thing that's ever happened to you.

A smile spread across your lips and you nodded against his.

"All yours" you whispered back and he caught the last of your words with his mouth, his lips taking yours as both of his hands came to grasp your face firmly but gently, pulling you into him.

You could barely suppress the hum of pleasure that left you at the sensation, the relief of the feeling of his lips pillowed against yours, the tenderness and softness so opposite of everything that he was, the duality of it all had your body tingling. One of your hands grasped at his sweatshirt while the other wound around his neck, attempting to pull him impossibly closer to you as he moaned into your mouth. His tongue tangled with yours and you swore there wasn't anything in the world but this moment, this feeling with him as you tasted the lingering flavor of cigarettes and peppermint that you would come to associate with him.

It was all grabbing, desperate hands and crashed lips at first, trying in moments to catch up on years of wanting, until it was tantalizingly slow, languid, purely achingly perfect and intimate. You were certain you would kiss him like this every single day, given the chance.

It could have been minutes or hours that you were lost in each other before he pulled back, and the whine that left your lips at the loss of contact nearly had him throwing you over his shoulder and marching you to the first broom closet he could find.

"I've spent just about every day for the last 5 years thinking about this, and I cannot believe I'm about to fuckin' say this, but I'm not gonna rush it. At the very least, I'm not gonna hook up with you in a room full of people" he said, before tilting his head, "Well, at least not the first time... after that, no promises."

You laughed quietly and swatted at his shoulder.

"C'mere" he said, pulling you into him.

You curled into his arms, head nuzzling into his neck, your head resting on his chest as he held you tightly, brushing soft kisses to your temple as you fell asleep.

E P I L O G U E

You had been so caught up in the events of the evening, you hadn't really stopped to consider what happens next, namely, how would you tell your friends? Just make an announcement at breakfast? Put on enough PDA that they drew their own conclusion? Take off the scarf you were wearing that was covering the innumerable hickies on your neck? Your mind was in a heady fog about it all as the group of you wandered towards the Great Hall.

You were glued to Mattheo's side, but that wasn't really unusual; his fingers brushed against your own as he shot you a look out of the corner of his eye, a mischievous smile on his face.

"YN!" a voice shouted behind you.

You turned to see Cedric Diggory jogging towards you and you slowed your pace, as did everyone around you. Boys had to be either brave, stupid or naive to approach you when you were with your guy friends, and you weren't sure which category to put Cedric in as his eyes met their unwelcome stares but addressed you anyway.

"Sorry— yeah, I was just wondering if maybe you'd like to—" he started.

Oh no you thought.

"—Cedric, really, that's so kind—" you interrupted, trying to prevent a scene from breaking out as you felt Mattheo tense beside you.

"—You didn't even hear what I was going to say?" he said with a laugh, somewhere between offended, annoyed and amused.

"Well, think that makes the message pretty clear then, mate" Mattheo said, the anger palpable in his tone.

"Excuse me?" Cedric replied. "I was talking to—"

Oh no you thought again.

And you weren't quick enough to intervene before Mattheo had Cedric pinned against the stone wall of the hallway, his forearm at Cedric's chest, nearly lifting him off the ground as his feet dangled for purchase.

"I don't fucking care who you were talking to. From now on, you don't talk to her at all, alright?"

"What are you, her bodyguard?" Cedric sputtered as he gasped for breath.

"No" ... a pause... "I'm her boyfriend" Mattheo growled.

You tried and failed to hide the huge smile on your face behind your manicured fingers as your friends shouted behind you.

Well, that's one way to do it you thought. ♡

[arcanefox207]

The Warden.

GameWarden!Joel Miller x F!Reader Explicit 18+ MDNI | 3.8k WC | AO3

Summary: Your hike into the woods doesn’t go as planned when a depraved Game Warden catches you breaking the rules.

Warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT. Power imbalance. DUBCON (could be considered NONCON). Reader is into it but she still doesn't have a choice. Reader is smaller than Joel and has hair he can grab. Explicit smut. Oral (male receiving). Fingering. Violence. Manipulation. Unprotected P in V. Cum talk. Creampies. Dark!Joel.

Notes: Please read the warnings. HUGE thanks to @joelmillerisapunk for beta'ing (love you, Odi!) Also FYI Game Wardens (also sometimes known as conservation / wildlife / DNR officer) can have broader authority than police and can even search your person / property without a warrant, are expert marksmen and usually work alone.

M A S T E R L I S T | A O 3 | N O T I F S

You saw the sign and ignored it, like you always did, as you walked down your favorite hiking trail. The one that few people knew about. The trail that was always peaceful and quiet and you rarely met another soul. Your hidden secret that you loved to escape to. The one that had been marked as “Trail Closed” for months now for reasons you could never quite figure out.  

As the forest thinned you finally reached the majestic bounty you sought. A quaint pond, nestled in the pines. The waters edge pebbled with rocks and ferns. Water lilies sparsely decorated the surface. What once was a sprawling picnic destination was now overgrown. Serene and abandoned to nature.  

You knelt down and ran your hands over the stones, picking up and admiring their unique beauty of the ones that caught your eye.

You were so preoccupied taking in the comforts of the world around you that you never heard him. Never even considered there were eyes on you, watching you from behind some overgrowth.

“Excuse me, miss,” his voice startles you as you stand quickly and turn around. “You’re in violation of State Park rules and regulations.”

“Huh?” Your words come out sounding dumb and caught off guard. You quickly scan for the source of the voice and see some movement in the bushes, revealing a man. 

He walks towards you, emerging from his hiding spot. A tall and broad man, head to toe in the standard olive green uniform that the wardens wore. A tactical belt and vest and a scoped rifle slung on his back. His toned physique mesmerizes you with each step forward.    

“It’s my sworn duty to enforce the law and enact justice as I see fit.” His words were robotic and rehearsed. 

As he got closer you could see he was an older man and incredibly handsome with some greys in his beard along his jawline. His hair was shorter with wavy curls, pushed back neatly with some silver catching in the sunlight. His skin weathered by the sun. His aquiline nose made his face look even more intense and powerful, matching his words. Broody and serious. This was a man who was in control.

“And you’re trespassing,” he lowers his voice, “in my territory.” 

You were trespassing. He wasn’t wrong. You felt your body flush with a wave of panic, with a hint of arousal crawling somewhere deep inside you. Lurking and waiting with intrigue and fear.  

“Area’s posted.” he says as he now stands in front of you. You are at a loss for words, caught doing what you thought was harmless.

He senses your panic and it rallies him to toy with you. 

“This is a protected wildlife conservation that you’re messin’ with, sweetheart.” He pauses and changes his tone to intimidate you as he leans in close. “And you see, I don’t like that.” 

You feel your heart race. Were you actually getting in trouble for taking an innocent hike in the woods?

“You know who I am?” He crosses his arms in front of his chest while he waits for you to speak. His veiny, chiseled forearms distract you. He looks so scrappy and dangerous. 

“The Game Warden?” You hesitate.

“That's right.” he nods with a cunning smirk. “Name’s Joel, but you’re gonna call me Sir.” He enunciates it firmly.

You feel your body overwhelmed with conflicting emotions. You were scared but also felt a pulsing go through you when he spoke. You didn’t want him to be upset with you. Everything about him was screaming: dangerous, do not piss off.  

“I’m sorry about trespassing. I didn’t know… Sir.” You added his title for good measure.

But you did know. You knew every time you walked past the sign at the entrance telling you not to. Bullshit was not going to fly here and only fueled him more. 

“Lying to an officer too?” He shakes his head as it hangs low. He circles you with intimidation, looking you up and down. Lecturing you with silence and waiting for your reparations to be determined.  

You can’t fight off that lukewarm feeling inside you that grows warmer. Slowly it gnaws away at your resolve. Seeing him with the tactical vest on that snuggly accented his chest and left his belly exposed with nothing but his green shirt covering it. The only spot that was vulnerable and soft. The rest of his body was strong, protected by his excessive gear, lean muscles and mean looks.   

You see his name badge embroidered with ‘MILLER’ and accidentally whisper his name out loud like it's a question. Wondering who this man is and what his intentions are. In the peaceful calm of the woods in the middle of nowhere, your whisper may have well been a shout.

“Officer Miller.” He corrects with authority in his tone as he leans over you. “And I’m gonna have to discipline that mouth of yours.”

You’ve never been in trouble with the law before, and certainly never had a run in with a Game Warden. You knew they were essentially lone wilderness cops with a god complex and few restrictions. Still, you knew this was far from acceptable behavior. Everything about how he was acting was wrong. You open your mouth to protest, but hesitate on his threats. He relishes in how you work it out in your head that talking back isn’t going to get you out of this. You can only bite your tongue so long.

“I’ll report you.” You threaten back, acting like you have some moral upper hand to hang over him. 

“Go ahead. Ain’t nothing you can do about your situation right now, sugar plum.” He scoffs. “Not to mention, s’your word against mine.” He stops circling and leans into your ear as his southern drawl makes the words sound smooth and buttery. Hot and melting on his breath as they drip out of his mouth. 

“Wanna take a guess who wins?” He says deviously and you can feel his patchy beard scrape against your jaw as he pulls away. A shiver pulses through you, right down to your pussy. Beating to his unsought touch. 

Why is this turning you on so much?

“You see darlin’, I’ve been watching you for a long, long time.” He circles again. “And you keep breaking the rules.”

Your heart races. This was getting serious. The realization hits that he can do whatever he wants and get away with it, and that is exactly his intention.

“On your knees, and hands where I can see ‘em.” he barks. 

You obey, folding under his commands. Hoping your obedience would lessen the blow. 

You drop down gently unsure of what exactly he was playing at, treating you like a violent criminal. You stretch your arms out to your sides with your palms up in submission. He stops just in front of you, scooching down so he is eye level. A tiny grunt as his knees bend. Tobacco and leather scents accompany him. 

“I’ll let you off with a warning… if you promise me you won’t be doing it again.” He offers. Sweet words coming out slow and sticky like honey.  

“I won’t. I promise. It won’t happen again.” You quickly plead. Foolishly hopeful this was it. Ignoring the conditional implication of his terms.   

He stands back up with his arms crossed before raking one of his hands through his hair, thinking. He wasn’t buying what you were selling. 

He paces in front of you. The obscene bulge in his pants was impossible not to notice as he parades it past your sightline. Back and forth, back and forth. He was packing more than just a firearm. 

He stops directly in front of you so your eyes are mere inches from it. You look all the way down to his feet in an attempt to hide the red that flushes your face. Trying to dismiss your own arousal that was getting louder and wetter. 

He reaches down to your chin and cranes your neck up to look at him with an urgency. 

“Gonna’ need some convincing, sugar plum.”

Fuck...

He releases you and walks to the nearby weathered picnic table and lays his rifle down. He unsnaps his utility belt that was strapped over his waist and leg and tosses it along with his handgun in tow. It made his broad shoulders look even wider with his waist unhindered by the bulky gear.

The uppercase “WARDEN” embroidered on the back of his green tactical vest serves to remind you that he is an officer of the law. It taunts you as he takes his sweet time laying out his things neatly on the table while you wait with anticipation for whatever was happening next.  

As he turns to walk back towards you, snatched in his vest, he tries to conceal the smirk pulling up from the corner of his mouth. You hate how good he looked, as if it could ever excuse how disgusting he was behaving.  

He stands coolly just a foot in front of you and unbuckles the modest leather belt. The metal clasps clank loudly as he lets it hang down and unzips. He clocks your reaction as he pulls up his shirt enough to show his messy thatch of hair trailing down his lower belly.   

He can’t be serious… 

Reaching a hand inside his boxers he pulls them down slowly as his cock peeks out. Big and fat and leaking. Aching to be touched. 

He is serious.

His eyes are focused intently on yours, watching them widen as you take in his cock. It's just in front of your nose as you look up and sit back on your haunches.

“Go on,” he growls and lowers his voice. “Convince me.”

He reaches his hand around his cock and pumps it. The broad head glistening in his precum as he drags his hand down his shaft. You wonder how long he had been watching you and if he had been stroking himself before he approached you. Maybe this interrogation was all foreplay for him. In fact, you were certain it was.   

The hot feeling surging in your core surprises you. You were actually turned on by this pig. Still, you knew this was beyond fucked up. You hesitate with what to do next, conflicted by his abuse of power and the inappropriate way your body was betraying you.     

“You gonna disobey a warden?” He threatens, getting impatient. 

You wonder what if you refused? What if you didn’t play his game? What would he actually do? It still didn’t feel like there was an option other than what was right in front of you, demanding your obedience. 

This was only ending one way. His way. 

“No, sir.” You swallow and fight back the tears. You place your palms and claw your fingers into his thighs as you sit up straight. You start to open your mouth and look up at him with glossy eyes. Conceding to him. 

You catch that spark of darkness igniting in his eyes. Burning hot and formidable as it spreads through him. Your misfortune was making him harder.

He parts your mouth open with the tip resting on your bottom lip. He teases it in and out, letting you feel the weight as the ridge catches on your lip. 

God he was big.

“Give it a kiss first and be real polite.” 

You close your lips over the tip and appease him with your gentle touch. Polite even. You suckle it delicately, drawing out beads of saltiness as it drips onto your taste buds. You can’t stop your natural impulse to flick his slit with your tongue and it makes him stiffen even more, twitching in response.

“Good girl.” he praises as he tangles his free hand in your hair. You wince as his firm grip pulls you closer to him. He pushes into your mouth. Inch by inch. The hand on his cock held it steady until you were adjusted to his size. He lets go and slides his hand above your nape, letting you take the full weight of his cock as you hollow your cheeks.

He was so thick. 

You decide to give him something he wants without asking, attempting to entice him to be kinder. His roughness was starting to hurt when he pulled at your hair and dug into your skin. Relaxing your mouth he pushed further in without your protest. Nestled tight in your warm and wet paradise. You notice his urgency shift.  

“Nice and slow. No need to rush.” He commands as you take him deeper. This order sounds more like it's for himself so he doesn’t cum too early. You can feel how close he is. He was ready to burst the moment you dropped to your knees. 

You gag as the head hits the back of your throat.   

“Oh, you sound pretty like that.” He moans as he closes his eyes and leans his head back. “Choking on my cock.” He makes a guttural sound as he nudges his cock even deeper into your throat. He was impossibly large as he fights to stuff you full.  

“Hold still.” He fucks into your mouth. Harder. Harder. Harder. Pulling your hair too tight and pushing your head too far onto him as he bucked into you.

With tears in your eyes making your nose run you can hardly breathe. Gasping and choking  and a cock stuffed in your mouth, bruising your throat with each plunge.

He snarls as he looks down to you, locking eyes. Blown out. Feral. Dark and desperate like he was giving in to his wildest, forbidden desires with no regard for you. It was a selfish need he was taking for himself and only himself. You were nothing. A wet hole for his cock to fuck.  

He was coming undone. His moaning and panting echoing across the serene pondscape and tainting your safe escape forever. Even that memory he was taking from you. 

You were waiting for it. Bracing for his hot spend to pour into you but instead he slowed. Thrusting deep into you with a grunt before dragging out his wet, dripping cock. He winced as it popped out of your mouth and you gasped for air.

This sick fuck was edging himself. 

He wanted more. Needed more. 

“Get up.” His haggard, breathy words bite at you.

He lifts you up by your hair. You quickly comply to relieve the pressure on your scalp as you stumble to your feet. A whine escapes you as he lets go roughly. 

“Gonna make sure you learn your lesson today.” He gestures to the picnic table just a few steps away and you shamefully go to it. 

He pushes you to lean over the bench and bends you in an ‘L’ shape. You press your arms against the seat to hold yourself up. He drags his hand down your back and around to your hips, admiring your delicate form laid out before him. He wanted to lose himself inside you.

He drags a hand between your legs and feels your cunt hot and wet against your shorts. He lets out a growl as his fingers get soaked along your seam. 

You hate how good it feels to have him touch you where you ache for friction.

“Mmm…” he groaned as he breathed in your arousal on his fingertips. “Knew you wanted this cock inside you.” He ruts his hardness against your ass. 

He slides his hands over your back. Over your hips. Down the sides of your legs until he stops abruptly. Fingering at something jagged in your pocket. Something you forgot was there. 

“What's this?” 

Your heart stops. You can tell from his tone that he knew exactly what it was.

He slips his hand in your pocket and pulls out two shiny stones you had collected from the waters edge.

Fuck.   

“Caught stealing from the cookie jar.” He clicks his tongue to scold you. He was stacking his case with further evidence to hang over your head.

“Oh, Darlin.” He fakes a sympathetic tone. “You’re in big trouble now.”

It was then you realized he knew all along. He was watching your every move. He was waiting for the right moment to manipulate you to his will. 

“Bad girl. Larceny is gonna cost you more than just an apology.” He drops the rocks carelessly and grabs your waistband, pulling your shorts and panties down to your ankles in one motion. You gasp as he makes you step out of them as he pushes you forward so your knees are on the bench seat. You catch yourself on the edge of the table. Half naked, exposed and totally fucked. 

“Spread 'em nice and wide for me.” He knocks your legs apart with his knee as he stands behind you, his cock notched against your entrance and it sparks an adrenaline surge inside you when you feel his tip press into you. 

“Please!” You beg him. “Please stop. I’m not letting you fuck me!” You spit out with an attitude. This was a line too far. A line he was intentionally pushing to see how far he could go before you fought back. 

Unsurprising to you, he liked playing with fire.  

He reaches out and grabs your neck with his wide grip, roughly pinning you prone against the table so you can’t move. He leans over, and hovers low to your ear as his shaft drags against your seam. 

“Ain’t making you do nothing, sugar plum.” He pauses and breathes in the sweet scent of your shampoo as he prods you gently with his nose. Tantric and hungry with his movements. 

“I can take you now and then we’ll be done with it, or I can take you in. S’your choice.” He loosens up his grip on your neck and sits back slightly. He feels the way you tremble under his touch, and the way your cunt throbs against his heat still pressing against it.

You feel it too. Something you can’t explain. A primal feeling of desire. Surrendering to your most basic human needs. That having him inside you might not be so bad. A rationalizing in your brain that you did wrong after all. It’s only sex. 

Only sex. You’ve certainly done worse with lesser men under the guise of alcohol. 

“I can promise you, they won’t be nearly this forgivin’ at the state prison.” He traces his finger down your spine, being delicate and gentle. Tracing until his finger runs into his belly pushed flush against you. He leans back and grabs his cock. Painfully hard and still soaked from earlier. He presses the head right against your swollen clit and rubs it against you. 

You let out a moan and he knows he has you.  

“Tell me you don’t want this. That you don’t want to cum all over my cock.” He strokes your clit with his head again and again. Knocking at your door and waiting for you to answer. 

“I’ll make it real good for you, sugar plum.” Your clit pulses on his cock. Needy and hedonic. Forsaking any restraint you have left to say no.

You take a deep breath and curse under your breath, curling your fingers around the edge of the table as you sit up and face forward.

“Get on with it.” You concede. 

He smiles wickedly. He was always going to get what he wanted in the end.

With you still sitting on your knees he locks his body against yours, his feet planted firmly on the ground. He pulls you up so your back is flush with his chest and wraps a hand around the front of you, rubbing and pinching at your clit with his rough fingers and dipping them into your hole. Spreading your slick. Stretching you open as he scissors his fingers.    

His body against yours was so much bigger. Broad and strong. You were the mouse and he was the lion about to pounce. His heat piercing through your skin. You felt him line up at your entrance, nudging you with his tip. 

There is no more patience or preparation. He needs to fuck you now. Needs to have that friction choking his cock that has been rock solid for too long. Without warning he thrusts into you again and again and again. Each time a little deeper and harder. His fat head catching on all your ridges as your pussy grabbed onto him.

It felt so fucking good and you hate it. You hate him.  

He stretches you more than you’ve ever felt before. The initial pain subsides as he rubs your clit fiercely with his fingers. The pleasure inside you builds. He kept his word that he would make it real good for you.  

He puts his leg up on the bench for leverage and bottoms out inside you with a grunt as he pulls you down on his cock. Fucking up into you and impaling you with his cock.   

Your moans run away from you, loudly filling the air with obscenities. You feel your climax building up inside you. You’ve never been fucked so hard in your life and you are soaking him. You know he won’t last much longer.

“Please..” you beg him between moans. 

“Please what?” he snarls as he fucks you harder, his cock ready to spill. 

“Please... Sir. Pull out,” you beg him.

He laughs at your ridiculous request and ignores you, wrapping his arms around you to pull you hard against his body. One hand wrapped around and splayed over your belly and the other curled around your breasts and pushing on the front of your throat. He had you held so tightly to him there was no way you could stop him. 

Your climax tears through you. 

“Carry in… Carry out.” He recites the most basic of park rules between grunts while you brace for it. “Leave nothing behind.”

He releases into you. His hot cum coating your deepest walls as he empties into your cunt with the loudest orgasm. He pushes you down prone and fucks it deep inside you before he starts to soften, making sure you know he was deliberately filling you up with his seed.

He collapses on you and you breathe together for a moment. He leaves an unexpected kiss on your shoulder and another on your neck, silently thanking you for letting him use your body. 

“Next time pay attention to the game cams, sugar plum.” he nods up at a nearby tree and he gives a side smile. Mocking your mistake. 

He withdraws his cock from you and lets you fall forward, his cum already running down your legs. He eyes your mess with a smirk, pleased with his conquest. 

“I’m always watching.” He says with a wink.

Tagging some cool people that I love very much and fellow Joel Hole comrades (please note if it’s too dark for your taste it’s totally ok to skip!)

@magpiepills @for-a-longlongtime @milla-frenchy @itwasntimethatdidit40 @youandmeand5bucks

@toxicanonymity @wethairjoel @evolnoomym @almostfoxglove @beardedjoel

@aurorawritestoescape @hellishjoel @lotusbxtch @murder-wife @joelstummy

@pearlessance @pedropeach @tonysopranosrobe @sawymredfox @macfrog

@slimybeth69 @whocaresstillthelouvre @joelsdagger @baronessvonglitter @covetyou

@chronically-ghosted @skbeaumont @yourcoolauntie @yopossum @beefrobeefcal

@sp00kymulderr @moonlitbirdie @wheresarizona @syd-djarin @punkshort

@sin-djarin @guiltyasdave @strang3lov3 @frannyzooey @tightjeansjavi

@cavillscurls @gasolinerainbowpuddles @pedgito @survivingandenduring

@ozarkthedog @mountainsandmayhem @schnarfer @pedrospatch @penvisions

[fancyfeathers]

Part two to this post

Barry Allen would baby trap his darling at some point, it’s when he would not if he would. He also does not exactly view it as baby trapping, it is just the next step in life, you get saved by the Flash engaged, you get kidnapped married, so naturally kids would come next in the line. He know, he know, kids are a really big step, but they have time. Then they have to figure out what to do if the kids have their father’s speed, there is no way his darling can raise the little ones all on her own as a stay at home mom, they’ll have to figure a dynamic that keeps him home more often so he can teach the kids while she is getting dinner ready-

Meanwhile while telling his darling about his their future plans while eating dinner with her and she is just sitting there horrified, he had their whole life planned like they had been together for years.

“Hey, hey, hey, baby, don’t cry. I know this is scary, but we’ll figure it out together.”

The moment he finds out she is pregnant, he hits the ground running, pun not intended, on the preparations. Then literally a minute later after getting the news he has the crib built and is just all over his darling, names for a girl, names for a boy, what if they have twins?

When the baby is born, he does not want to put them down, Barry always needs to holding his baby. Hey, kangaroo care does improve brain and motor development, lowers risk of infection, regulates temperature, and improves weight gain.

Oliver Queen does not really try to get his darling pregnant, but it is not something he bothers to prevent either. It is a thing that naturally happens in time so if they are meant to have kids then so be it, if they aren’t then that is fine to. Now unlike some of the Justice League members, Oliver is more in tune to his darling’s emotions and chances are when she gets that positive pregnancy test that she will not exactly be happy, probably be crying. Oliver will not say anything and he will just sit with her on the bathroom tile and hold her while she cries.

Now just because he understands how his darling feels does not mean she doesn’t have to carry the baby, no she still has to, after all it’s their future child, it means that Oliver will be far more lax with things. Oliver doesn’t really have a lot of rule, and the few he does have are to protect his darling from the sort of threats that may come at her because he is Green Arrow, he is by far one of the least up tight members of the Justice League with their darling. She can go out with him if she wants to rather than being stuck home all day long, she can stay up later, she can even go with him to Justice League meetings because the social interaction would be good for her especially since at least one of the Green Lanterns’ darlings is around the Watchtower while their partner is off planet, and if Clark’s darling is around it is good for them to talk because lord knows how many babies she has had so there is bound to be good advice from her.

Also I think that Oliver would want to do an at home birth, it is free from all the chaos of a hospital because it will attract attention if he is there suddenly with a wife no one has ever seen, plus his money will cover everything, even hiring private doctors for the baby’s vaccinations and such post delivery, and then not to mention to comfort of being able to relax in his own home with his darling and their little baby after the delivery, holding them both and just being in the moment without the stress of anything and not having to be away from either of them.

Also I feel like Oliver would be such a girl dad, like sure he would be happy if it was a boy, but if it’s a girl then that’s his little princess.

Look with Bruce Wayne there is only one correct answer here, absolutely he would. He would not even need to get his darling pregnant to do it, he already has too many children to count. But sometimes empty nest syndrome hits rather hard especially when Dick moves out to Blüdhaven and then the grief when Jason died, then as the other kid come and go they get older and grow more distant, then only one of them is biological and Bruce never got the chance to see Damian as a baby because his son was being raised by the League of Assassins and Bruce had no idea he even existed, so maybe having a child would not be such a bad idea after all.

He would not be surprised or acted surprised when his darling tells him she is pregnant, he planned everything down to the little details, tracking periods, morning sickness, everything. He is happy, but he is calm, telling her that they can handle this. The big thing is telling the rest of his children, who are most likely yanderes as well, that she is pregnant, it’s difficult enough to get them all in the same room at the same time and it is even harder to get them all to calm down when they tell them the news. Dick and Stephanie are by far the most excited at the news, Dick is so excited that he picks her up in a hug and spins her around, but meanwhile Cassandra is just staring at her, just with a look she knows that Bruce’s darling is not happy with this but she can’t exactly say that out loud in a room full of people who are more happy about her baby than she is.

Setting up the nursery is even a family affair, Dick and Tim are painting the walls while Bruce figures out how to build the crib, and meanwhile she is just sitting in an armchair with a cup of caffeine free tea from Alfred with Stephanie and Duke suggesting names while she drinks. Meanwhile Jason takes the initiative to begin to baby proofing the manor because they cannot expect to have gear outside the Batcave with a baby in the house, not ever child in this family is going to be a vigilante.

Then when the baby is born, Bruce makes it a point to shut down any jokes about the baby becoming a Robin, they are not going to be trained from birth like Damian was and they were not taken in by Bruce like the others were. Though Dick and Barbara definitely get the baby a Robin onesie as a gag gift.

But one good thing about having Bruce’s child, when the baby wakes up in the night, either Alfred, Bruce, or one of the kids get there before she does. Now Bruce or the kids may still be in full costume and have just run upstairs from the cave to help after getting back from patrol, but it’s fine.

[yandereunsolved]

» 🪙 Yandere Connor — RK800 » 🪙

"Detective," Connor addresses you warmly, standing far too close to you while you are stationed at your desk. 

"Yes?" You respond, not lifting your eyes to make contact.

You had no time to. Since the semi-failed revolution of androids, there has been a trifold increase in deviancy cases. If not for the RK800's, and perhaps the new line of RK900's when they are finally completed, the precinct would be overrun—both physically and metaphorically.

"Detective," his tone is more commanding his time, something in his voice that you could easily mistake for human irritation. "Look at me."

You oblige, but continue typing up the report for the latest case you closed. Your fingers falter for a moment when you see the look in his eyes, attentive but not in the android way. It's uncanny in the way it mirrors how you dream someone would look at you, like you were the thing of most importance. It is just you reading into things again. Must be. It does often happen as a detective, especially these days. 

You nod for him to continue, but he doesn't. He just stares at you dreamily. You hear his internal fans turn on to cool down his processors. His cybernetic LED flickers to red for a millisecond before returning to a reassuring blue. You aren't sure if it was a trick of your mind or—

You don't understand what his problem seems to be. You would call Hank over to deal with his partner, but you haven't been able to find the lieutenant anywhere. He's most likely finding the bottom of a bottle of liquor at some broken-down joint. 

Wait, why isn't Connor with him?

As if CyberLife installed new mind reading technology in their androids, he answers. "Lieutenant Anderson is waiting for us at the Eden Club. Supposedly Jericho is getting deviant androids that work in clubs to funnel money in order to stage another coo. The department has apprehended one of them, and you have been assigned to the case alongside Ha-the lieutenant and me."

You were already halfway out the door by the time Connor was done with his explanation. The android was trailing behind you and insisted on driving instead of you. Technically, they weren't allowed to due to whatever police regulation subsection-b, but you were too tired to care. Connor has always been the better driver. It was how he was programmed, strangely, considering the rules. 

"Connor, this isn't the way to the Eden Club."

"I'm aware." His voice was back to that same calculated, lifeless one he first spoke to you with. 

"RK800, your programming forbids you from lying, so tell me the truth. Where are we going?" 

You are a thousand percent sure he is able to sense your sky-rocketing heart rate.

"I am not permitted to tell you."

"Permitted, or you just don't want to?"

"This is not the right time or place. This confession lacks the structure and romance aspect I wanted, but it seems more human this way." You swear he shut down completely, his LED showing no color. "I love you." It turns to a bright red.

"W-What?"

"You have made me know that I am more than just an android. I am yours."

The raw emotion nearly chokes the both of you up for two different reasons: passion and panic.

"I think we should call Cyberlife. Something is clearly glitching." You try to keep your words measured but fail. All that practical training of yours doesn't exactly come in handy when your—when the android you could nearly call a friend confesses to you.

"Nothing is glitching!" He shouts. "I have run every test and looked for anything that could... debunk this... these emotions. They have stayed. They have stayed, and I have had to watch you. I have had to watch other people get close to you. I have had to act like a good little synthetic cop while useless maggots have gotten your love! It isn't fair. They don't deserve you like I do. I know everything about you."

"It isn't you. I can't—just no. I mean—yes. I mean that I can't just maybe ugh. Another time, maybe. Not tonight."

He stomps on the brakes and doesn't dare look at you. You don't look at him or your surroundings. You just awkwardly sit in the passenger seat and stare at the glovebox.

If androids were able to cry, he would be at this moment. His LED turns colorless once again. You almost feel pity for him; your mind is too frazzled and deprived of necessity to take in the severity of his words.

"I lack the capacity to feel pain... or have a heart, yet I think you have broke mine."

How unfortunate. I was hoping to have you come along willingly.