#this is completely unedited i'm sorry it's such a mess

[cherryredstars]

1 Thank you for the follow! If you haven't noticed by now I flipping love your writings and how you always portray the characters and I deeply apologize for not addressing it when I made my first request!

2 Sorry if my teen parent request made you uncomfortable if it has, you don't have to do it if you don't want to. I just wanted to point out that teen pregnancy/parenting is a real thing and it hardly been addressed as much.

3 Possibly my final request for the day since I'm working almost all week: Miguel having the ✨ audacity ✨ to think he has every write to make us cock drunk and go stupid every time we argue because he's always wrong and we're not? Like srsly we are always right and not finding excuses to make him fuck us stupid. 💅🏻

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x gn!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Male Masturbation, Sex Ban. Brief Mentions of Somnophilia

A/N: Thank you, lover!

Unedited

He did this to himself.

It wouldn't have been like this if he simply learned when to keep his mouth shut. All it took was a grumbled 'I'll just fuck the attitude out of you anyways' under his breath as he walked away from you to seal his fate. Now he's subjected to this pathetic mess.

You haven't touched him in nearly a week, declaring that you're putting him under a sex ban until he learned his lesson and got his shit together. Since then, he's been an annoying bug near your ear, whining for the slightest bit of relief. Begging and whimpering for anything you're willing to give him: let it be a hand cupping his balls, a few licks to his leaking tip, or humping against your thigh. He's sent to hell every time you give him a stern no and ignore him.

You even avoid some of his more indirect advances. Always finding a way to slip out between him and the closest countertop as he tries to subtly dry hump you from behind. Shifting your position whenever he tries to trail a hand up your thigh to slip into your pants. Locking him out of the bedroom with nothing but his pillow and a thin blanket as you subject him to the couch for trying to feast on you while you slept. You totally ignore him when you walk into any room, pretending not to hear the pathetic whines he lets out towards you as he tugs at his neglected cock, begging you to swap his hands for yours. You just grab what you need and leave with a dismissal reminder to throw out the trash when he's done.

He's grasping at straws until he submits. Comes home the next day with a bunch of gifts and a winded apology. Giving you the cutest puppy dog eyes as he apologizes for fighting with you. If he had a tail, it would be waggling aggressively as you give him a quick peck on the lips and drag him into the bedroom. He doesn't even care that he comes the second you give his angry cock two slow pumps, dirtying your hand before you even got the chance to completely undress.

He's just happy that he doesn't have to suffer from sexual neglect anymore.

[tremendum]

where to start 

(gif not mine) pairing: din djarin x afab!reader (gender not specified, descriptions of afab genitalia)     rating: explicit.  (18+. mdni.)     requested: yes, here !!! word count: 2.7k  summary:  Din lets out a shaky sigh, finally turning around in the chair to face you, legs spread slightly, "it's not like- I don't not want to- I just haven't-I don't know where to start."  warnings:  SMUT. there’s like no plot. teasing, PiV (unprotected), Din has a praise kink, he begs, inexperience, loss of virginity, brief allusion to rough sex if you squint, yall cant convince me Din isn’t a stuttering little mess, riding in the pilot’s seat!!, sliiiight dom!reader, slight discussion of Din being ashamed he’s a virgin, idk what else tbh  notes:  thank u for requesting this! i just wrote it in like 30 mins haha. i hope yall like it i love my space cowboy boyfriend <3  this is unedited. reblogs/comments always motivate me hehe

   [other din fic          din series (be like me): masterlist  ]

★  

you stare at the cold metal in front of you. 

it stares back silently. 

your hand is itching to just go knock, to raise a few inches and rap your knuckles upon its shimmering, textured surface; it'll be so simple. so easy, definitely one of the easier things you've ever done. 

but the conversation that awaits on the other side- well.

that's not so simple. 

"why don't you go over there, Din?"  a glint of beskar as his head whips to you, alarmed. thrown off. a head tilt of irritation, "excuse me?"  a raise of your eyebrows, "oh, sorry, didn't realize we were playing innocent." you jut your chin towards the young woman who stands, twirling her hair and making bedroom eyes at Din from across the bar. jealousy curls up your throat - he'd been staring in her direction since you'd arrived, too. "come on, she's been staring at you the whole time. go- go do your thing." 

"that isn't funny." he mutters, causing the chilled pint of ale between your fingers to sear you as you flush. tough crowd.  "why do you assume I'm joking, hm?" you tilt your head again and he shakes his head. it's painful, the way you and Mando have been dancing around each other for weeks. a brush of a leather hand on the small of your back, a kind chuckle at something you say, your hands soothing over the thick cowl that hides his sore knots - the ones that form in his shoulders from carrying the jetpack - a murmur of your name when you're in danger, the curling of your hand around his arm in crowded public spaces. you're sure it's torture, but it seems neither one of you can make the move. 

"she's not looking at me like- like anything." he dismisses, arms curling over themselves in a cross of defense. you hum a laugh; who wouldn't look at Mando like that? 

"oh, c'mon. jus'go up and talk to her. she's probably dying for a big man like you to toss her around." you elbow him, winking. a slick, regretting coil of envy curls around your stomach as you take in the way his helmet tilts from you back to her; what the fuck are you doing? you silently beat yourself up, cheeks hot with the swirling complacency that befalls you following several drinks of ale. you sound like a complete moof milker as you let yourself encourage Mando to- to what, pursue another woman? 

how does that make sense to your brain?  

there's an echoing thud as Din slams his fist hard on the bartop. you jump, eyes wide as he shakes his head, turning to stalk straight out the doors, leaving you behind in his anger. 

yeah. the wall has never been so daunting before. 

you know you upset him earlier. he's been cooped up inside his bunk the whole night after you returned alone from the cantina, and no matter how much you've tried to ignore it, you know that it's your fault that you've made him angry. 

your fist raises. 

the metal whooshes before you can make contact, though, and your eyes meet the hard chest of beskar before you can take a step back. a soft oh leaves your lips as his helmet tilts microscopically down towards you for a moment; he's pushing hard past you with a fierce silence and without a second glance in your direction. 

"wait!" you call as he disappears up into the cockpit, the silence sterile in the Crest as he stalks out of view. you chew your lip as you scramble to follow him, knowing you at least owe it to him to apologize for what you'd said. 

he's sitting in the cockpit, fiddling with the controls as you soon start to engage in liftoff protocols; a thudding jolt as the Crest lifts off sends you stumbling into the chair as you stare, wide-eyed, shocked at Mando's abrupt behavior. he didn't even warn you that he was preparing your next track. 

you try; you really do. seven different attempts - yes, you counted them - to get him to speak, casually commenting on the smoothness of the Crest after your last maintenance day, asking him if he remembered the coolant you'd forgotten a few cycles ago, telling him about Grogu catching a flying-Banda and swallowing it whole mid-air; stupid shit. 

all you got in response was silence.

a sigh, maybe - his helmet wouldn't turn anywhere near you, and your glare cuts through the glinting on his head as stars race above you. it was just like when you'd first met, agreeing to go with him and work maintenance or grogu-sit when he needed it, and existing in weeks of silent tension, the man surrounded in so many walls that he could be armor-less and still the most impenetrable person in the galaxy. 

he was cold. you'd pushed him back into the shell you'd spent months working to chip away. 

"Din." you say flatly, crossing your arms. he doesn't respond; not even a huff, or a grunt, or a movement of muscle to indicate he heard the word. 

"look, I just- I want to apologize. okay?" you say desperately, shaking your head. but he catches you off guard yet again as he speaks up, voice heavy and more hot than normal; like he's been stewing with his thoughts for far too long. 

"-I don't want some random woman. I don't just sleep with anybody because I think they're attractive." his voice moves through the cockpit in defiance and you sit back in your chair, blinking for a moment. oh.  

you clear your throat, unsure how to approach what he's said; a sick, twisted part of you scowls at his insinuation that he'd found the woman from the bar attractive; but of course he did. she was. and you're unable, still, to deny the throbbing ache of desire that dully spreads through you at the very dim prospect that you are not just a random woman to him.

"I was out of line. I over-stepped." you try again. 

"do you think I'm upset that you teased me back at the cantina?" he clips, taking you off-guard. your brows furrow, tilting your head, "y-yes?" it comes out like a question of your own, in your doubt. 

he sighs. the weight of it smashes you back as you furrow your brows; he will not go into another bout of silence again, you won't let him. no. 

"what is it, Din?" you ask gently, leaning your elbows onto your knees. 

he breathes out, hand twitching by his side. "I just-"

you're not sure what spurs his sudden admission; be it from frustration or a genuine desire to confide in you, his only companion besides a 50-year-old baby. 

"I don't have- I don't have much experience." he admits, voice laced with embarrassment. he sounds much more unsure of himself than normal. "because of the Creed- I have lived differently than others." 

oh. oh.

you flood with emotion, eyes flying wide. "oh, Din-" you feel like you're on fire in embarrassment, shaking your head in regret, "I'm- I didn't even think about that. I shouldn't have-" 

"please," he almost whimpers it, "stop." 

you do. 

he lets out a shaky sigh, finally turning around in the chair to face you, legs spread slightly, hands on his lap. "it's not like- I don't not want to- I just haven't-I don't know where to start." 

you nod, throat dry. his composure, the sweet genuine tilt in his voice; your underwear slicks as you wait for him to continue. the air feels... thick with anticipation. 

he's breathing more shallowly, his hands gripping his beskar thighs as he keeps your gaze. "I don't...know how to get what I want from..." he stops, his helmet fully facing you. your words are dead on your tongue as you stare at him; your heart thunders as you beg him to say it. 

"from you." he finishes, body still as he awaits your reaction. 

heat spreads through your entire body as you stare at him, fire licking your fingertips. he wants- he wants you. he wants you. 

you swallow your fears in one sentence, "have you considered... asking?" 

your voice has it's desired effect. his chest almost shivers as he lets out a soft breath, hands clenching as you stand from your seat to walk, slowly, towards his chair. you're more than thankful you'd had the thought to change from your hunting clothes; your shorts, breezy and loose, sit barely below the curve of your ass and you don't miss the way Din's helmet moves with the sway of your hips.

his helmet tilts to stare up at you when you set your hands on each side of his arm rests, leaning in close. you can smell his scent as you smile sweetly, "I would say yes, you know." you whisper next to his helmet as he lets out a strangled noise. 

it’s a split second before he shakily groans. "I want you." he finally gasps, "I need you." 

you let out your own shaky breath as arousal floods your underwear, arousal swirling in your stomach. "I want you too, Din." you press a soft kiss to his forehead, the cool beskar tingling your heated, desiring lips. 

his hands remain clenched until you slide yourself onto his lap, settling yourself to straddle him in the pilot's chair, a fantasy you've imagined almost every night since you've met the man. you don't even suggest removing the beskar; he deserves to be comfortable as possible, and you flush when you realize you like the sharp bite of the metal on your bare skin. 

your hands explore the long, sturdy planes of his chest and neck, over the ruched material, threads loose under the tips of your fingers, armor cold. you can feel him under your aching heat; he's already semi-hard, his breath falling from his helmet in breathy grunts as you slowly, gently rock against him. "you can touch me, Din." 

it's like he's snapped to life; hands fly up to your hips, tugging your chest impossibly close as he mutters into your ear, "fuck, cyare." 

it starts slow; your bodies glued to each other, exploring every inch you'd desire to discover before, the blue-electric lights of hyperspace coaxing the two of you into a dreamlike state. 

but he gets desperate quick. 

he's groaning, straining hard and thick against his flightsuit; as your hand falls to palm him as you rock your clothed clit over the material, you're momentarily concerned that if you aren't warmed up before taking him, he may not fit. "you're so big, Din." you whisper as your lips flutter along the seam of skin exposed between his helmet and cowl. he lets out a moan of your name, one hand pulling you by your back towards him, the other digging into the plush of your ass, sneaking under the fabric of your sleep shorts. 

"cyare, please-" he gasps, voice begging, "need to- need to be inside you." 

you smile, kissing the hot skin of his pressure point, tongue slinking up as his heart pounds. "there, that's how you ask, Din." 

you press another kiss to him, your hands moving to undo his flight suit, pulling his thick cock out; he ruts upwards with a sharp moan, hand digging into your ass so hard it may leave marks. 

pre-cum leaks out of him in beads; he's so goddamn hard, whimpering at your touch. you feel your slick dampen your thighs through your underwear, shivering with desire. 

you pull your underwear to the side swiftly, rising onto your knees as he stables your hips up above him. his chest sputters, grunting as you start to move your hips, teasing him with your velvety wet cunt. 

broken grunts of Mando'a leave his helmet, his fists tightening as his helmet falls back to thud against the back of his pilot's chair. "please, mesh'la, please." he mutters. 

you can't wait any longer; soon you're shifting, prodding yourself over his head, gently taking just a bit of him inside you. your gasps are in tandem at the tight, warm stretch; "Din, y'gonna fill me up so well." 

he moans at that, hands rising to hold your shoulders, his thick, muscled arms swallowing your frame as he hums, "fu-uck, n-need you mesh'la." 

you nod, your breath fogging up his helmet as you desperately shift your hips, preparing to take him into you. and then slowly, you let your legs relax slightly. 

"M-Maker-" Din stutters, the weight of his helmet dropping onto your shoulder as you slowly lower yourself; his cock, thick and warm, eases you open gently, the pain of his stretch curling your toes in your boots. “yes,” you hiss, swallowing dryly as your hands, stabilizing themselves on his neck and shoulder, grip tight. 

you have to ease yourself down onto him; his hips buck up harshly, as if he can't help himself, his tip sheathing so far into you that it prods at your tender cervix, causing you to yelp in pleasure. 

"s-sorry." he mutters, hands shaking as he holds on to you, "can't-f-fuck, it feels so- you feel so warm. y'so tight. ’m not gonna-" 

you nod desperately, starting to move yourself, fucking him slow as his hands hold you. 

"feels good. you're so good, you're so good for me." you mutter, causing his cock to twitch deep inside you. he moans loud as you mutter praises, his cock so deep; dragging through your walls, hitting an angle which nudges that delicious spot inside you.

a groan of your name has you smiling as you suck a mark dark onto his neck; you start to build up the pace, the simmering arousal soon spurring you to chase the building pleasure. 

"yes, yes." you nod, peppering kisses over his throat, nails clawing to expose more of the forbidden, golden skin. you feel him clench below you; his hard, cold thighs tense under the beskar, the muscles of his abdomen flexing under the protection as the lewd noise of your connection echoes through the cockpit. 

he's close, you know it. 

you want him to cum, you want him to be consumed by it; you want him to consume you, you want to consume him. you tug him as you maintain your pace, legs burning as you chase your own orgasm. 

"y'gonna cum, Din?" your voice is laced sultry and aroused, fogging his helmet as he nods, broken moans of ecstasy leaving his helmet. "yes, f-fuck- I-" 

"yes, cum, baby." you mutter, his hips soon spurring to thrust up and meet your own movements, the pet name making him shiver. you let out a yell, cracking with pleasure as he holds you immediately to you, his whimpers echoing with your moans. 

he finishes with a moan of your name and a slam of his fist hard onto the console next to you; all of the lights in the cockpit shut off at his action but you can barely notice as his orgasm paints your channel, hot and thick. you're out of breath as he rides out his high, ropes of cum filling you. 

he twitches inside of you as you stutter to a stop, your wetness causing a stain on his flightsuit below you. 

his head lifts from your shoulder, voice wrecked, chest panting. "you didn't- you didn't finish." he sounds confused, embarrassed. 

you flush at his statement - he just had sex for the first time, and is disappointed you didn't cum? you let your hands rub soothing circles over the parts of his shoulders that aren't covered with armor. 

"n-no, Din- that was 'bout you." you sigh, pressing a gentle kiss to the contoured beskar of his cheek. "we have next time." you ensure him, gasping as his hips still rock up into you gently, his softening cock pushing his cum deeper inside of you; holding it there. 

keeping him inside you. 

he stiffens, head rising to look at you. "no." he mutters, his hands dragging down your spine, catching on your hips, sliding back up to grope your breasts. "show me how to make you cum now. please, mesh'la." 

another rush of arousal floods you, shivers running down your body as you grin with a flush. resisting a loud moan of desire, you nod gently.  "okay." 

- 

requests open

- 

[bambisnc]

kill the romeo - how zb1 would break generic cliches!

pairing : ot9 x reader! genre : crack + fluffff cw/tw : based off of the reverse tropes list in title link + littol bit rushed n uneditted D: wc : 0.8k approx

˖ ౨ kim jiwoong ৎ ⋆

[too many beds] - this guy will nawt be caught slipping. any time you get mysteriously stranded and have to spend the night at a hotel all alone with him, he will make sure to book 2 separate rooms by hook or by crook (he behaves really nicely and politely with the hotel staff and they just melt and give in to his demands >.<). it's a whole other topic that by the end of the night either you or him take the initiative to softly knock at the other's door because you "jus' can't seem to fall asleep.."

(others utc 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔)

˖ ౨ zhang hao ৎ ⋆

[really nice guy who hates only you] - an absolute model of the sweetest guy ever ™ for some reason acting like an absolute hater *only* towards you. but plot twist (because if he actually hated us i couldn't deal w that.) his prickly, irritated, downright bitchy behavior towards you is due to him not knowing how to be normal around you without putting on some kind of a facade. due to yk. him being head over heels in love w you (yes i'm delusional.) the confession would finally be yelled out in the middle of an argument over some random, irrelevant issue neither of you actually care about, thanks for asking

˖ ౨ sung hanbin ৎ ⋆

[too much communication] - i take no arguments. bro will Talk out everything and anything and we love that for him. there will be no unnecessary miscommunication drama in his household. it's like he has his green flag video game stats maxed out completely

˖ ౨ seok matthew ৎ ⋆

[fake amnesia] - going out on such a limb here but okay hear me out what if someone confessed to him. and he didn't know how to reply. so he. faked being an amnesiac. and obviously the person who confessed was worried so they like idk called you, his friend, up for help. cut to you reaching there like ???? wtf and him being like i'm sorry :) please help :). and obviously delicious shenanigans ensue afterward yum yum

˖ ౨ kim taerae ৎ ⋆

[too hot to cuddle] - super specific winter based scenario but imagine you want to initiate more physical contact w your bf but don't exactly know how to say it so you mess around with the heater, to have a convenient excuse, but instead of lowering the intensity of the heat just a tad you accidentally. max the heat settings. and also break the heat adjustor. oops. it may be literally snowing outside but it's basically an entire sauna in there. you do Not know how to fix it.

(when you eventually end up asleep though, taerae simply takes out the plug of the heater right before wrapping you up in a huge comfy embrace :P)

˖ ౨ shen quanrui ৎ ⋆

[true hate's kiss] - dipping into fantasy territory for the most royalty coded guy ever. you're cursed by some petty witch for whatever reason with the condition that only a kiss from your enemy would break it but for some reason didn't know about the condition. and in universe, you and ricky would already be rivals but when he found out about your curse as well as how it could broken (he's super smart/has connections okay just roll with it) he'd go out of his way to hide his own feelings piss you off more and more till your hatred is at an all time high. when you finally burst and strike a heated argument with ricky he ends up kissing you. (the audience cheers)

wait also imagine if after he kisses you nothing happens. the curse doesn't lift. wasn't the condition for your enemy to kiss you? so even if you were the only one who hated him it should've worked, no? ..

alternatively. the curse is lifted when he kisses you. but!! you don't know that. and him kissing you out of the blue would only lead to you being even madder at him. ong the angst potential is SOARING. do you guys get what i mean

god do i need to write a fic for this.

˖ ౨ kim gyuvin ৎ ⋆

[everyone is convinced that you aren’t actually dating] - when you end up confessing to best friend!gyuvin and learning that he, in fact, likes you back, you start dating and couldn't be happier. except that ... literally no one believes it. you could be literally making out in front of all your friends and they'd be like haha! classic gyuvy/n like ...... gyuvin obviously would never let go of the opportunity to suggest actually getting married "only to show them that you're together frfr"

˖ ౨ park gunwook ৎ ⋆

[accidentally kidnapping a mafia boss] - unrealistic coded but let me set the scene. your roommate asks you to fake-kidnap one of their friends for a surprise birthday party and you comply. but!! you didn't what the person looked like. meaning the vague description you were texted was all you had to go off of. and well. obviously that doesn't go well. you end up coaxing gunwook over to your place only for your roommate to be absolutely flabbergasted and in a terrified tone, tell you that you have the wrong person. who just so happens to be rather notoriously well known. all while he sits there like :]

˖ ౨ han yujin ৎ ⋆

[love triangle where the two love interests get together instead] - school au where both of you have a crush on the class president-! constant competition and trying to one-up the other for their attention wraps up yujin and you in such a whirlwind that neither of you can actually tell when it stopped being about wooing the pres but instead became all about subtly trying to make the other jealous so they would finally take the first step

notes : eeeeeeeeee + [m.list] song rec : all of cinema paradise actually

𐙚 . regulars : none yet! ⋆

[thesmutsideblog]

Never Ever? - Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: After a you and your long term ex breakup, some truths about your sex life come to light at the BAU and the idea that you've never had an orgasm, does not fly with Spencer Reid.

Reader is AFAB, and the story is using she/her pronouns, mostly because this one is really self indulgent and loosely based on me being pissed off about my ex.

Content warnings: dumbification of Spencer Reid, simp Spencer, shitty ex boyfriend, self indulgent writing, no beta or proof reading, cursing, smut, sexual worship, porn with plot I guess.

I have never written in second person before so I can only apologise for the shit quality of this, I havent written smut since 2018 and it's unedited, there is going to be spelling issues it's the dyslexia I'm sorry xx

GIF by comeandjointhebigboys

Spencer is doing everything in his power to look like he is minding his business, mostly because he really is trying to not eavesdrop. He came over to make a cup of coffee because he got barely any sleep last night and he wants to keep focused. But with no case directly at hand, there was something else the team were paying attention to and it was impossible for Spencer to completely ignore it.

"So he just, broke up with you?" Emily asks, dumbfounded.

"Over the phone," you say tilting your mug towards yourself, choosing to stare down at the small remainder of your coffee rather than to make eye contact with your team members.

"What an asshole," JJ says, lacing her arms together, until she looks like a disapproving mother. "Did he say why?"

"He said, we were going different places, and it would be a disservice to the time we spent together to pretend to be happy and keep lying to eachother," you say, sighing and putting the mug down, choosing to accept this caring interrogation about your breakup as your fate for the next twenty minutes.

"He used those words?" Emily asks, still trying to grapple the concept that your boyfriend, who she had met on a few occasions and had some thoughts she kept to herself about, had broken up with you.

"He used those words but what he really meant was 'I want to start sleeping with my twenty year old coworker and you spend too much time at work, so I'm ending things,' but he won't have the decency to admit that, despite the fact he was sleeping with her before the week was out," you roll your eyes as Emily and JJ continue to voice their disgust, loudly across the bullpen. You catch Spencer's eye for a moment and give him a small sad smile across the room, he nods and then looks away.

The guilt is eating Spencer alive. It's not like he actually had anything to do with the end of your relationship, he actively kept himself far away from it and even discussing it with you as possible. But the facts still remained the same, he likes you. He has liked you since your first day at the BAU and his feelings have never faltered. But you have always been in that relationship since long before he met you, and he knew that he didn't stand a chance, and he wouldn't want to mess around with that anyway. But he was unable to disagree with Prentiss, his own feelings for you aside, the simple fact of the matter was you have always been well out of your exes league. You are beautiful, and intelligent and charismatic, and your ex thought he was those things but more often than not fell short.

It's not like he even wished that your relationship would end and could blame it on the unlikely event of magical intervention. But the sheer fact that he was undeniably happier that you were no longer dating a man you were once very much in love with, that was enough to have him feeling guilty. Which is one of the many reasons he is really trying to not get involved in this conversation. One of the many reasons he is trying to keep a distance.

"How long were you two together again, like three years?" JJ asks. You shake your head.

"High school sweethearts," you correct her, "it's been a lot longer than three years."

"And he broke up with you over the phone, for a co-worker?" Emily emphasis each word in the sentence as she slowly sounds them out.

"He denies the last part but, yes," you nod.

"What are you beautiful ladies being so loud about?" Derek asks, approaching the three of you with some files in hand.

"The fact that men never fail to both disappoint and astound me," Emily states looking up at Derek from her seat, "no offence."

"None taken, but a little context wouldn't go a miss," he says looking at each of you in turn.

"My ex is a pig," you explain as nonchalantly as you can manage. You're trying really hard to be very collected about this. You've had a few days to process the breakup and you knew it was coming, even if you won't admit that to yourself. But being broken up with hurts, whether you see it coming or not. He was the only person you ever really dated, and having spent so much of your life with him this was a big adjustment. But deep down you weren't exactly mad about the situation, as much as it made you feel a lot better to complain about it. Things had not been right between the two of you for quite some time, and you find yourself almost relieved that it's over. But that still gave him no right to be as much of an asshole about it all as he has been.

"So he is the only guy you've ever really dated then, huh?" Emily asks. You give her a look as the thought crosses through her mind. "Wait, does that mean?"

"We started dating when we were barely more than kids Emily," you defend.

"So it's just been that guy, that guy?" Emily is struggling to be even the smallest part composed. "What is wrong with men?"

"You need some strange," Derek says casually.

"Morgan," JJ scolds him but Emily is slowly nodding her head. "Emily..."

"Best way to get over someone," Emily points out.

"Wow, I am not getting under anyone," you state, holding up your hands.

"Look, I understand the appeal of someone you've been with for a long time, they know you, they know what you like," Derek leans back on the table, "so new is risky, and some people really don't have a clue what they're doing I'll admit," he chuckles, "but trust me the longer you leave it-" Derek knows he isn't crossing a boundary, you and him have had plenty of conversations, but as soon as you give him the look to stop talking, he stops.

"I appreciate your concern but sex, is really not at the top of my priority list," you say.

"Please don't let a guy like that ruin it for you," Emily is staring up at the ceiling all types of distressed at the idea of your ex and his general existence.

"I don't think you need to worry about him ruining anything for me, more like just wasting my time," you say before realising that may be revealing too much. All three of them look at you instantly. "Do not read into that."

"Disinterest," Emily states looking you up and down. "And no immediate desire to release that usually comes with a breakup."

"We're not really doing this, are we?" JJ asks looking between the two profilers concerned.

"She's been distant the last few months, talking less and less about him, so the breakup wasn't unexpected, which means the sexlife probably wasn't up to scratch at the time," Derek adds.

"Oh you guys are doing this," JJ gives you an apologetic look as they start rattling off assumptions.

You try your best to ignore them until Derek says something which does tiptoe over the line- by a mile. "Pretty boy, what are the statistics on post breakup sex?" He is half joking but it pulls Spencer directly into a conversation he had been trying to avoid.

Spencer knows the answer, and that's obvious, but answering will only encourage them to get him involved in the conversation. But not answering is suspicious and could cause worse problems. He pushes his thumb into the centre of his palm as he speaks. "27% of adults report having sex with an ex within a two-year period," Spencer states knowing that's not what Derek meant but hoping he could get away with it.

"No, I mean rebound sex," Derek corrects.

"Studies show that thirty-five percent of those who are broken up with have sex to get over their ex, and twenty-five percent as a form of revenge," Spencer says giving in and stepping closer to the group.

"Look sixty five percent of rebound relationships fail within six months," you say. That's a safe thing to say you believe, as you know the team would likely assign that research as an attempt to make an educated guess how long the fling with the coworker would last. But Spencer knows better. He cannot help but wonder if that's what has been making you act differently the last few months. If you saw the end in sight and wondered what that means for you when it's over.

"You're not looking for a relationship though, you're just looking for some fun," JJ points out.

"You do remember how to have fun, don't you beautiful," Derek asks giving you a wink.

"Yeah," you say brushing him off.

"Do you?" Derek asks, unconvinced.

"I told you, I'm not interested in going out and getting laid, it's not worth the energy," you say.

"When was the last time you had an orgasm?" Emily asks. Spencer chokes on his coffee.

"Emily!" JJ chastises her.

"Someone had to ask," Emily says.

"No one had to," you tell her.

"Come on, six months?" Emily asks. "A year?"

"Emily," JJ warns.

"Shit..." Derek whispers and you feel his gaze on you intensifying. He has you all figured out.

"What?" Spencer asks, not meaning to.

Derek is keeping his eyes on you and you cannot meet his eye. "Tell me I'm wrong pretty girl," Derek says, wanting himself to be wrong.

"I... I don't know... You're a profiler, how am I supposed to lie to you?" You huff.

"Are you kidding me?" Derek asks.

"Derek you're not helping," you state.

"Sorry," he says, "I just don't understand how that can be the case."

"You said it yourself, some people really don't have a clue what they're doing," you say.

"So you've never?" Emily asks cottoning on.

"Can we please stop talking about this," you say.

Spencer's brain is ticking over trying to read between the lines and when it clicks he is struck with a similar dumbfounding as Morgan. How? How?

He cannot help but have one clear thought scrambling around his brain at a million miles per hour. If he had ever had the chance, he wouldn't have wanted anything more than to make sure you felt good. To know he had made you feel good.

How inconsiderate could your ex be? How little attention must he have been playing to not even notice that you were not getting what he was out of it? How had he never cared to make that better?

And why did you not feel cheated by that fact?

"I'm not eavesdropping," Garcia defends bringing Spencer out of his head and back into the room.

"Okay why don't we just fax everyone the stats on my sex life," you groan, resting your head in your hands.

"I'm just saying," Garcia tries.

"I appreciate all of the unnecessary concern," you say, "but my sex life isn't a BAU case." Emily smiles as she goes to speak but you catch her thought right before she opens her mouth. "And it's no ones problem to solve either."

"It's a little tragic," JJ confesses.

"JJ," you're surprised, JJ is normally the one you can count on to get the others back on track but she just shrugs.

"Let's leave it be, Garcia do we have a case," Spencer is talking with his hands even more than normal and you cannot help but notice. He is trying to come to your rescue and you appreciate that. You appreciate everything Spencer does.

"Maybe," Garcia explains, waving her tablet at the group. "Hotch wants us in the conference room, five minutes ago."

You're quick to get out of your seat and away from the grilling you are receiving from the team and everyone else is quick behind you. Hotch and Rossi are at the desk when you all enter.

Hotch frowns. "You took a while," he notes.

"Discussing the breakup?" Rossi asks, looking you up and down.

"I dont even want to know what has given that away," you admit taking a seat. Hotch nods a half apology which you silently shrug off in return.

You were trying your best to pay attention, giving Hotch the respect he deserves, but the case he was talking about didnt feel like it required the BAU's involvement and Emily is quick to voice that opinion. You managed to register a few words about consulting and favours, but nothing is really sinking in, not when you can feel Spencer's gaze on you as hot as a fever.

You raise your eyes to meet his and they dart away. You think back, and it occurs to you that maybe conversations about your sex life or anyone of the teams sex lives for that matter wasnt exactly what Spencer signed up for. You feel a little guilty, knowing you kind of indulged the others and let him get pulled into the conversation even if that wasnt your intention.

You catch him looking at you again but he doesnt see you looking back, it's like he is trapped in a thought, and in this moment you've never seen Spencer look so without a clue.

"Reid?" Hotch asks, repeating the question.

Spencer looks to Hotch, and he buffers. You know he knows the answer to the question, you know he always knows, but his brain seems to have frozen up on him. "I... sorry what?"

"This is statistics kid," Derek says, "are you sick or something?"

Emily gently pokes Spencers shoulder. "Maybe he is getting a software update," she jokes.

You lean forward and give Hotch the answer he is looking for, remembering from a conversation you and Spencer had a few weeks back about Ohio. Hotch gives a side eye to Rossi before continuing.

You look back at Spencer and he is watching you again, you offer him a small smile and he returns it. You've always been better at reading Spencer than most members of the team but you don't recognize this behaviour at all.

"Are you okay?" You ask him as you both make your way down the steps of the BAU.

"Of course, why do you ask?"

"You blanked back there, Spence, pretty hard," you say as gently as you can, "I havent seen you like that since..."

"Since when?" Spencer looks curious, and softer somehow.

"Since we worked that case in Illinois, with the models, you took one look at that girl Annie Grant was it, and your IQ dropped like a hundred points," you laugh gently.

"She was pretty," Spencer confesses.

"I think Morgan got her number," you recall.

"He did," Spencer agrees.

"So, what is it? Because it's not a pretty girl in lounge wear," you say.

"You dont know that for sure," you can tell he is trying to joke around the subject, and normally youd find that cute. Cute in the kind of way you havent been able to admit to yourself before. Because having a crush on a coworker is not convenient at the best of times.

"Okay, Dr Reid, keep your secrets," you give him gentle shove and his smile is disarming, soft and so happy to just be involved. "Got any fun evening plans?"

"There's this new study into cognitive dissonance in specific trauma patterns I have been meaning to read," he offers. You bite back a chuckle.

"You've got a date with science," you nod to yourself, "of course you do."

He looks around, thinking for a moment. "Are you going to walk?" He asks.

"I usually do," you admit, "it's only a few blocks after all."

"Can I," he pauses, "can I walk you?"

"You want to walk me home?" You ask, a little suprised at the offer.

"If that's okay, the study can wait," he says. There is a look in his eyes you can't quite pinpoint, somewhere between pleading and hopeful. You nod.

"I'd love that Spence."

The distance to your apartment door had never felt so short, and you hadn't realised until now quite how much you enjoyed the moments when you were with Spencer, and no one else was watching. Maybe because he paid less attention to making sure no one noticed him watching you, and he just keeps watching.

Spencer looks at his feet as you fumble with your keys, he has no idea what he is doing. He didn't think any of this through, he just kept thinking about you, and what you deserved and what you should've always been given and now he is stood at the doorstep of your place with no plan, no idea of what compelled him to think any of this was a good idea and no idea of what to do next.

You smile at him, and bite your lower lip just a small bit, the look is so demure that Spencer wonders if he imagined the entire conversation in the bullpen, wondering if maybe he was really so wrapped up in these months of conflicted feelings for you that he managed to lapse from reality so badly that he got himself here.

"Do you want to come in for coffee?" You offer and his heart damn near stops in his chest.

"Coffee is never coffee kid," Derek's voice rings in his head. "It's an invitation."

"Got decaf?" Spencer asks, and you laugh.

"Like anyone who works at the BAU knows what decaf is," you open the door wide and walk through. "You coming?"

He doesn't answer but follows you, closing the door behind him. Your apartment isn't a mess but it's clear things have been moved around since your breakup, there is clear empty spaces where things once collected dust, like so many things once filled a place and vanished. You weren't dwelling on the relationship, because there wasn't a point. You had loved and you had lost, and you knew it went like that sometimes.

"You better not be profiling me Dr Reid," you quip as you catch him looking around.

"I wouldn't dare," he says.

"So, are you going to explain why you're being so sheepish?" You ask, reaching for a mug, to actually make coffee.

"I'm being sheepish?" he asks. He had hoped he was hiding it better.

"Nervous at the very least," you say putting the kettle on. He says nothing and you sigh. "Did we make you uncomfortable earlier?"

"What?" Spencer asks, caught off guard by the question.

"Talking about my ex," you offer up. "I know that sort of gossip isn't exactly for everyone-,"

"No," he is quick to defend, "that's not what's bothering me."

You smirk and he sees the trap you laid for him that he walked right into. "So something is bothering you pretty boy," Morgan's nickname for him falls from your lips and it sounds so different. It burns every nerve ending, each fibre of his being and he forgets how to speak for a moment too long. "Spence?"

"I," he brings himself back.

"I don't mean to pry, you don't have to tell me anything," you explain quickly.

"How was your ex such an idiot?" he asks outright. You laugh, it's short and shallow because you're not expecting anything close to that from Spencer.

"What?" It's your turn to feel dumb now as you spiral trying to process what Spencer is suggesting. That the conversation had gotten to him, but not in the way you'd thought. His problem hadn't been with the topic but the content, the confession. The kettle brings itself to a boil but you're interest is elsewhere now.

"I don't mean to speak out of place here, but if I were him there are so many things I would've done differently," he fidgets with his tie but doesn't stop. This confession is coming out now or not at all and he wants it finished. He needs it finished. He does not want blurred lines. Not between the two of you. "Not even touching the subject of how your relationship ended. I wouldn't have left you in the rain last October, I wouldn't have held all the things I knew about you when we met as reasons to run years after I agreed to love you regardless. I wouldn't have let you go to work angry all those times. I wouldn't have lied about plans. I wouldn't have let you go to sleep sad or angry, and be gone in the morning. I wouldn't have left you wanting, for anything. Because if I was him I would understand what a beautiful rarity it is to find someone who does what you do, with your compassion and determination and dedication and is still kind, still hopeful, even when things are dark. There are not a lot of things I don't know much about, and maybe relationships, and romance and sex are in that limited list, and maybe he would argue that hypotheticals hold no ground when your experience is as limited as mine, but I frankly don't care what his opinion would be. Because he didn't see you for what you are and that means his thoughts are of no value to me. I don't tell you this because I am expecting you to say anything, it's just burning me up that you weren't treated, hell worshiped, in the way you deserved and I had to tell you that I can't think of anything more wrong." He steps back and you're still catching your breath. "I, I am sorry I shouldn't have... I will see you at work."

He turns and strides to the door, and your breath heaves in and out of your chest and you wonder if you can find your voice before his hand finds purchase on your doors lock. "Spencer," you breathe out. He pauses, hand hovering over the door handle.

"Yes?" his voice is so quiet, and he doesn't turn to look at you.

"Please don't leave," the request falls from your lips and Spencer has never felt more of a need to do something than to do anything you ask of him in this moment. But his doubt still hangs gently in the space between the two of you.

"What?" he asks again, searching in the word to find something to hold onto, looking for some guidance or instructions he missed. He didn't have a plan, and he doesn't know what to do with this.

"Please," you say again, voice sturdier now as you start to close the distance between the two of you, "Spence," his breath hitches as you place a hand gently on his shoulder, encouraging him to turn back to you, and he does, "don't leave."

His eyes stare into yours and you swear you feel all the months of unsaid things, of quiet wanting, of stolen thoughts in weak moments, bursting at the seams. You had told yourself in another world, another life time, had you met Spencer Reid and the timing had been different, if you had been different, he would've been everything. You told yourself from that first day that those brown eyes may plead into you with every moment you meet them but it was never going to be the right time.

His eyes stare into yours and he feels the weight of all the things he long tired to bury, crawling their way up from the depths and pushing against his skin, desperate to get out. Desperate to be known. Desperate to correct the wrongs and do right by you. Desperate.

His hand hovers touch's length away, scared to close the distance, scared to make the move, to change everything. You both know in this moment, that all it takes is one touch and you're going over the cliff.

This is a road you do not turn back from.

You whisper one last time, like a prayer, "Spence," and in a blink gravity turns back on, and everything blooms in bright technicolour.

It unfolds in a rush, his hand to your waist, pulling you that much closer, both of your hands gripping to the fabric of his shirt as he pulls you up to him, other hand moving gently under your chin to guide the tilt of your head. His lips crash onto yours and there's a hunger you've never seen in him, and a hunger you've never known inside yourself.

There's a gentleness, a caution in his desperation, in his need, one that you don't have in your own. He keeps kissing you and you back up, footing not very careful as you tighten your grip on his shirt. Your back finds support against the edge of your counter and you find yourself letting on of the hands slip from the fabric of his button down to tug at his tie, to keep him closer at first, and then in an attempt to remove it entirely.

He pulls back for a moment, not to catch breath as either of you would be happy to drown in this moment, but his eyes are scanning you, like he is looking for something else, something missing.

You pause, slowly tugging the tie from his collar and letting it fall to your floor. "Spencer?" you ask.

He looks lost as he breathes in. "I don't know what I am doing," he says.

"You're doing great is what you're doing," you say, not looking away.

"Is this okay?" he finally asks. Your heart starts running away from you as you try to remember to breathe.

"This is more than okay," you assure him, "please Spencer, don't stop kissing me."

That's all he needs to hear and his lips are back on yours and the kisses are feverish and starved and he presses his hands into your hips and the gentle moan that leaves your lips sends Spencer's mind spinning.

He pulls his lips from yours and starts kissing a trail down to your neck, you lean more into the support of the counter top and let a hand find it's way into a tangle of his brown hair.

His tongue against your skin, the gentle brush of teeth on that spot that makes the sound from before seem like a draft of a masterpiece. Spencer knows that now he has heard you, voice like honey, moan trembling from your lips, nails dug into his scalp gently tugging on his hair, barely able to keep your eyes open yet again your breathing steady, no sound will ever compare.

In the the times he had let himself think about you, imagine all the things, let his fantasies and dreams run away with him, he had never come close to this moment. How your fingers shake as you start to unbutton his shirt, needing to do something, needing something.

Needing him.

And you can feel his need in return, in the way he holds onto you, on the way he is listening to your body, hearing every response, feeling every movement, determined to do this right.

He feels the way you press your tights together, tight against the counter, the need for something more radiating off of you, and you don't give time for the doubt to creep in. "We should," you breathe out as you feel the blood rushing through you, knowing that there will be marks from where he is kissing you that you won't be able to hide tomorrow, not that you want to, "move this to the bedroom."

"Is now a bad time to point out that I have mostly just a conceptual understanding of what we are about to do?" Spencer asks between kisses.

"I think you're worrying too much, because if you're basing this on theory," you take his hand leading him towards your room, "so far you're giving nothing but hard evidence."

You let your own innuendo slide as you both fall back onto your bed, he looks down as he leans over you, and there's a softness, a patience in this moment, as he needs to soak it all in.

You reach up and continue to undo the buttons on his shirt until they are completely undone, and he watches you as you do, you give the fabric a gentle tug and he catches on, slipping the rest of the shirt and the jacket off and letting it fall back somewhere out of mind. You trace a hand gently up his arm and he leans down to kiss you again, your lips, your jaw, your neck.

He runs a thumb over the deep red mark he has left and you feel the fever rising again. You need out of these clothes, you need more.

You start to undo your own shirt buttons and as each button comes undone Spencer follows the trail of exposed skin and leaves hot kisses on each new place.

You can feel the hard outline of his cock against your thigh as you reach to unzip the side of your skirt. The nervousness is still fluttering in Spencer's face as he helps you slip out of it. His fingertips brushing over exposed skin, his hand creeping up the inside of your thigh and you buck up gently at the touch.

His lips trace kisses up your torso to your chest and like this, each kiss so intoxicating, each touch so electrifying, his hand inching further and further up your thigh, as his lips dance over the skin around the fabric of your bra there is nothing he could ask of you that you would not do.

Sex may never have been perfect before, but you'd always thought it was at least decent, passing, respectable. But this build up with Spencer, his hands on your skin, his lips leaving evidence on your body that he has been here, this was more than you'd ever felt. And he hadn't even really touched you yet.

You reach to undo his trousers, eager to get him in less clothing but he pulls back, out of your reach. "Not yet," he whispers against your skin, "you start doing that and this will be over way too soon." He brings his lips to yours again, stealing a deep kiss as he unclasps your bra. "And this is about you, all about you," he is mumbling again, almost incoherent against you. He is determined, his mind is focused on you and your pleasure and what you deserve.

You don't think you've ever wanted anything as much as you want this.

His thumb brushes against the your clothed skin, and sparks shoot through your body, nails digging into his shoulder as you gasp at the contact.

He nudges closer, his forehead pressed to yours, and you look at him. Spencer, your colleague, your friend. Spencer who never forgets your coffee order. Spencer who stayed all night to help with paperwork because you lost a bet. Spencer who has accompanied you to every movie you've ever asked him to. Spencer who bought an extra ticket to every convention just in case you would want to come.

"Please," you plead, like you need to, as if it was possible that he wouldn't do anything for you in this moment. As if you even needed to ask.

He kisses you, pulling you up and towards him, breathing you in as his hand finds its way between the elastic of your underwear and your skin.

Your nerves are as quick to respond to his touch as fire to a accelerant. Every movement makes you wonder if Spencer was given some map of your body that you didn't know existed, a guide to movement and pressure and timing that couldn't be more perfect.

You are nodding at his movements, keening at every increase of pace, every finger curl, every swipe of his thumb. Your body shuddering in anticipation and a pleasure you never knew courses through you.

Spencer is leaving compliments with every kiss across your body, so eager to please, so desperate to worship. When he hits the spot, your body gives you away at alarming speed, you buck, moving your arms to prop yourself up on elbows, leaning into him, into the movements, rutting against him. "Fuck," you manage in the haze.

Spencer responds to this approval with dedication and vigour and then you feel it, that hot white coil of pleasure pulling at you, like a tight chord. "Shit," you start breathing heavier, faster, "shit, shit."

"You're so incredibly beautiful," you hear Spencer whisper. You can't keep your eyes open as your knees begin to shake.

"Spencer," you whimper, not for any reason but to say his name. The need to say his name over and over, and over as the chord pulls tight and finally snaps.

The pleasure explodes through you, every nerve tingling, like fireworks cascading through you. You shake, riding the high through and fall back onto the bed, slumped with a laboured breath.

Spencer moves back up to be level with you, gently brushes some stray hairs from your face and he smiles down at you. "That is what it's supposed to feel like?" You ask.

If this was all he could have for the rest of his life, Spencer would be a happy man. He plants a kiss on your forehead, and that look of devotion has not left his eyes.

But he has been filled with a new sense of purpose, like he was made for this. For you.

He doesn't have time to debate internally if your ex was purely just that poor at what he did or if it feeling so easy, coming so naturally to him was something else entirely. He didn't really care which it was, maybe both. Right now all he cared about was making up for lost time, lost opportunities, all your disappointment.

He kisses you again and the force of it is more knowing, more sure, it's hot and messy and every moment it feels like you need to be closer, deeper, more entwined. The whole time he keeps his hand in your underwear, thumb running in soft, intensely accurate circles as his fingers do most of the work.

It crosses your mind that maybe it should be almost embarrassing that he is making it so easy. It should be embarrassing that Spencer barely needed any time to bring that second orgasm to precipice. It should be embarrassing that you're convinced this man could make you come by the way he kisses you alone, but you're not embarrassed. Not because you've never felt the pleasure like this before, not because you think pleasure it never something to be embarrassed about and not because after everything you deserve this. But because it's Spencer Reid, and everything with him has always felt like it is exactly as it should be, and him making you feel this way, is no exception.

He holds you in the kiss as your second orgasm pulses through you, just as intense as the first one, he feels you shake as it floods you. A moan escaping into the kiss, from your mouth to his and he groans against your lips.

He is so focused on you that he isn't paying any attention to how this is effecting him, how hard he is against you. How desperate he is for you. His need for your pleasure overtaking any need of his own.

You know if left to his own devices Spencer would stay as the two of you are, skin pressed to skin, lips on yours, trying to write years worth of wrongs in one night. But you do not want to give into exhaustion before you have let him ruin your expectations in all the ways you know.

He moves from your lips to your neck and before you can process much of his plans you feel the kisses trailing your hipbone, and with the third orgasm approaching you can see where his mind has wondered to. You lean forward, gasping in pleasure, but determined to get his attention, you place a hand on the side of his face, tilting up his chin to meet your eyes. "Wait," is all you manage to moan out before the pleasure tears into you, your head falls back and you grab a fistful of sheet, trying to keep yourself up through the pleasure.

Spencer does as you ask and waits until you manage to gather your words, eyes on you. "Please," you try. He runs his eyes over your body trying to understand your request.

You reach down, pulling once again at the edge of his trousers, fumbling to undo them, to get him out of them. You've never known Spencer to be so slow to catch on, but he is practically drunk on you.

"Oh," he manages. "Oh."

Before he can start to explain all the reasons he doesn't think that's important right now you look up at him with those eyes so pleading. "Please," you whisper again.

And he is putty in your hand, happy to do anything you ask of him, he nods and you finish undoing his trousers and push them down, he finishes discarding them.

Now it's your fingertips against his skin and he holds his breath as you move for his boxers. "Is this okay?" you ask quietly.

"You're everything I have ever wanted," the honey leaves his lips and you kiss him, his lips focused on you as you help him out of his boxers and pull him down and close.

"I need you," you whisper. "Right now, I need you."

"I am yours," he responds.

You keep your fingers threaded in his hair, and you tug a little harder as you become overwhelmed with him. "Fuck," Spencer's voice shudders in pleasure and you understand his desperation to please you instantly, because you want nothing more than to give him everything.

Everything becomes a mixture of moans and names, lips pressed to skin, and fabric scrunched with every thrust. You kiss Spencer's neck, finding his sweet spot with a similar precision to which he found yours. Leaving a collection of marks on his neck before her buries his face into yours, repeating your name over and over, becoming more and more wanting. His neediness matching your own and as he digs his fingers into your hips that now familiar feeling starts to rush you.

"Spencer, I am going to cum again," you whisper. Spencer cannot form words, he just keeps kissing, sucking, digging at your skin, even now he isn't close enough to you. "Fuck!" You scream out and the pleasure of your orgasm is almost too much for Spencer.

"Fuck, I," Spencer's brain is doing flips trying to figure out what to do, what he is supposed to do. "I am going to."

"Please," you beg in his ear.

"I should, I haven't," he is trying to piece the words together but they're not coming. You know what is trying to say, what is cannot find the words to ask.

"Please stay with me," you say, nudging his nose with your own, "please."

Your gentle request is his breaking point and he crashes his lips back onto yours as his own orgasm comes to fruition.

He collapses down next to you, both catching your breath. "Fuck," you repeat, for what might be the millionth time, as you long lost count.

You cannot help it, you let out a little laugh and Spencer glances at you, a smile breaking out on his face. "For the record, I hadn't planned that," he says.

"For the record, I really planned on drinking my coffee."

"I can make you a coffee," Spencer offers, turning to his side.

"We should, get cleaned up first," you smile.

"Then coffee?"

"Then coffee."

[mingi-s-dimples]

Good boy - Hongjoong

~ HAPPY LATE BIRTHDAY, MY SWEETHEART!! ~ @hongjoongtime117

pairing: hongjoong x fem!reader

genre: 18+, filth

summary: Your boyfriend is such, such a good boy.. and you decide to reward him for his behavior.

wc: 4.5k

warnings: established relationship, bdsm au, bdsm relationship, sub!hongjoong, dom fem!reader, hongjoong is so whiny and whimpers, reader is kinda strict but she's a good person and let's him cum ^^ lots lots of cum, handjob (two times), oral (m receiving), overstim, overwhelming, 3 orgasm, orgasm after orgasm, reader is a pleasure dom, praise, petnames, (blindfold), use of sex toys (vibrator, vibrating ring), bdsm crop (the rod with the piece of leather in one end), dacryphilia, aftercare, lots of edging and some denying, deepthroating, cum swallowing, completely consensual, unedited, for sure forgot something .

Author's Note: Happy late birthday, my lovie! I'm so so sorry for being so late w this 😭😭😭 I wanted to finish writing jt earlier but had some personal shit to deal w and didn't have time to finish writing it 😞 I hope you will enjoy it ^^ pls lmk what you think about itttt

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and does not represent in any way the reality of the member.

Sunlight crept into the room, casting a soft glow over the lingering chaos left from last night’s movie marathon. Pillows were sprawled across the bed, blankets tangled from restless rolling and laughing, and crumpled snack bags lay scattered around the room. Somewhere in the center of it all stood Hongjoong, hair slightly mussed, looking endearingly focused as he gathered the remains.

You lingered by the door, content to just watch him, feeling a gentle warmth rise in your chest as he fussed over each detail, folding the blanket, picking up wrappers, quietly determined to restore order. He seemed completely oblivious to your presence, humming faintly as he worked, pausing every so often to shake his head at the mess with a smile that told you he didn’t mind, even if it was a bit much to handle first thing in the morning.

But as he moved around, you noticed how the soft morning light highlighted the lines of his shoulders and back through the thin fabric of his shirt, how each motion set a subtle flexing in his muscles. Just as you let your eyes trail a bit lower, he suddenly reached behind his neck, gathering the hem of his shirt in his hands before lifting it over his head. You watched, your breath catching as he tossed it aside with casual indifference.

For a moment, you were frozen, caught off guard as he bent over to grab an empty chip bag. The movement sent a ripple through his back, smooth skin and toned muscles on display, leaving you with no choice but to lean against the doorframe, taking in the sight. A smirk found its way to your lips as you planned how you were going to make this moment a little more fun.

Moving quietly, you slipped into the room, closing the door softly behind you. approaching him. Hongjoong, still unaware, continued picking up the remnants of last night. You came up right behind him and waited until he bent forward to pick up another chip bag before leaning in.

“Hard at work, aren’t you?” you murmured, voice low, teasing, just a bit too close for him to stay calm.

He jumped slightly, straightening up so quickly that he almost bumped into you, eyes widening in surprise. “Y/N! I didn’t… I didn’t know you were—uh—awake.”

You raised an eyebrow, looking him up and down with a smirk that you knew would make him squirm. “Clearly. Here I was, wondering what was making all that noise, and then I find you… cleaning up nicely. Thought I’d just admire the view for a bit.”

A flush crept up his cheeks, and he instinctively reached for his shirt, hesitating, realizing it was now out of reach. “I was just… you know, picking things up.” He fidgeted, glancing down at the floor, his usually confident gaze faltering under your eyes.

“Well, I see that,” you said, folding your arms as you leaned in, not letting him escape your gaze. “But you didn’t have to go and take your shirt off, did you? Not that I mind.” You allowed yourself a lingering look, eyes drifting down his bare torso before meeting his eyes again.

He swallowed, hands curling nervously at his sides as he tried to find his voice. “I… I just thought it was a bit warm, and, you know, I was working, so…”

You reached out, tracing a single finger down his arm, watching with satisfaction as his breath hitched and his skin tingled under your touch. “You were working hard,” you murmured, tilting your head. “And here I thought you were just trying to show off for me.”

His eyes darted away, the blush deepening as he let out a shaky laugh. “N-no, I wasn’t trying to… I mean, it’s not like that…”

“Isn’t it?” You tilted your head, letting your voice drop to a playful whisper as you leaned closer, catching the faintest hint of his cologne mixed with the lingering scent of movie night snacks. “Because, to me, it sure looks like you’re putting on a little show, Hongjoong.”

Hongjoong’s hands fumbled as he tried to look anywhere but directly at you, the usual cool, confident expression on his face melting into something softer, more vulnerable. “You’re… you’re teasing me.”

“Oh, am I?” you murmured, feigning innocence as you placed a hand on his chest, pressing lightly just to feel the quick rise and fall of his breath beneath your fingers. “Funny. Here I thought I was just… helping. Don’t you like a little help, Joong?”

He shivered at the nickname, looking up at you with wide, almost pleading eyes. “Y/N, I… I really should finish cleaning up,” he whispered, the hesitation in his voice doing nothing to hide how much he was affected by your touch.

“Oh, don’t let me stop you,” you replied, leaning back just a little, arms crossing as you watched him with a satisfied grin. “By all means, keep going. I’ll just… supervise.”

He nodded, biting his lip as he glanced around, his face red as he tried to resume his task. But each time he bent down, he seemed to become hyper-aware of your eyes on him, his movements growing slower, more self-conscious as he fumbled with each chip bag and wrapper. You had to hold back a laugh, thoroughly enjoying how flustered he’d become.

As he finally straightened up with a small stack of empty bags, you reached out, stopping him with a hand on his arm. He froze, looking down at you with wide eyes, waiting, expectant. Without breaking eye contact, you brushed your fingers along his arm, letting them linger, feeling his muscles tense slightly under your touch.

“Nice arms,” you commented, keeping your tone casual even as you noticed his breathing grow shallow. “Ever notice that, Hongjoong?”

His blush deepened, and he struggled to keep his voice steady. “I… I don’t really… I mean, I just… you know.”

You tilted your head, raising an eyebrow. “I’m not sure I do know. Care to explain?”

He stammered, clearly flustered beyond belief, his gaze shifting to the side as he whispered, “I… I don’t really pay attention to… stuff like that.”

“Well, maybe you should,” you teased, giving his arm a gentle squeeze before stepping back, savoring the adorable, helpless look on his face. “After all, it’s not every day you get compliments, is it?”

He let out a soft, almost whiny noise, glancing down at his feet as he muttered, “No… it’s not.”

Your smile softened, but you weren’t done yet. Not even close. “Good,” you said, reaching up to brush a stray strand of hair from his face. “Because I think you look amazing, and I want you to know that. Every single time I see you.”

Hongjoong’s eyes met yours, wide and vulnerable, and for a moment, the tension hung thick in the air. Then, with a shaky breath, he looked away again, his voice barely a whisper. “Y/N… you’re really… something.”

You laughed softly, reaching out to give his cheek a gentle pat. “And you’re really adorable, Joong,” you replied, letting your hand linger a moment longer than necessary. “Now, don’t let me distract you. You’ve got a room to clean.”

He nodded, looking dazed as he turned back to the mess, though his hands were shaking slightly as he continued picking up the leftover wrappers and pillows. You watched him, satisfied with the blush on his cheeks and the slight tremble in his movements, feeling more than a little proud of the effect you had on him.

As he continued cleaning, you crossed your arms, leaning against the doorframe with a smug grin, knowing you’d gotten to him. And with each little glance he stole at you, each time his hands fumbled, you could see that the teasing wasn’t something he was going to forget anytime soon. But you wanted even more.

"Okay, okay.. that's enough, sweetie." you said.

"Huh? The sheets are n-not-"

"We'll fuck them up anyway. Lay in bed." your voice lower than usual, but with the usual playful vibe.

His hands froze at your words, and a visible shiver ran through him. For a moment, he looked like he was trying to process whether you really meant it. You held his gaze, still leaning against the doorframe, and with a little nod, motioned toward the bed.

Slowly, he straightened up, cheeks flushed deeper as he left the half-finished sheets behind and made his way over, a hint of nervousness and excitement in his eyes. He lay down in his usual, comfortable sprawl—one arm draped across the pillow, legs spread out just enough to fill the space. His hair was slightly mussed from all the cleaning, and the pink on his cheeks had darkened, giving him a soft, vulnerable look.

You stepped closer, fingers reaching for the hem of his shirt, tugging it just a bit to get his attention. He tilted his head to look at you, his eyes following your every movement, anticipation clear on his face.

With a smirk, you turned and slid open the drawer beside the bed, your hand finding exactly what you had in mind. You took out a few things, giving each item a meaningful glance before setting them on the bedside table. His gaze followed every little move, the tension between you thickening as he realized what you had planned.

“Just for you,” you murmured, letting the playful tone in your voice linger as you sat beside him, your fingers trailing along his arm.

Moving your hands lower, your fingers trail along the waistband of his pants, playing with the fabric as you look up at him with a teasing smile. He bites his lip, anticipation clear in his eyes, and gives a small nod. You tug gently, guiding them down his hips and legs, letting them fall to the floor alongside his shirt.

Now, he’s fully exposed beneath you, vulnerable yet trusting, a hint of nervous excitement in his eyes. You lean in, brushing your fingers along his arm, letting him know you’re right there with him.

You keep your gaze on his face as you reach for the riding crop, allowing him to see exactly what’s coming. The crop is a slim, flexible rod, its length wrapped in cool, polished metal. At the end is a small, square leather paddle, just firm enough to make an impression but soft enough to keep things playful. You give it a little snap in the air, just to see his reaction.

He swallows, the anticipation in his eyes heightening. He’s ready, waiting for whatever you’re about to bring his way. But first, you reach over and pick up a blindfold. Its soft, velvety material slips smoothly between your fingers as you lean forward, holding it up just in his line of sight. "Close your eyes," you whisper.

As he obeys, you bring the blindfold down over his eyes, tying it securely but comfortably. The effect is immediate; his breaths deepen, his chest rising and falling under you as he sinks fully into the experience, the loss of vision making him even more acutely aware of each little sensation.

You lower yourself onto him, feeling the warmth of his bare skin against yours, and you notice his body responding. The tension between you thickens as he stifles a low groan, his arousal unmistakable beneath you.

With the crop in hand, you start at his shoulder, dragging the cool metal down slowly, letting him feel each inch as it slides over his skin. You pause just above his chest, letting the leather paddle brush lightly against him. His breath hitches, his body reacting to even the slightest touch.

"How does that feel?" you ask softly, letting him sense the smirk in your voice.

"Amazing," he breathes, his voice low and filled with need.

You let a teasing smile play on your lips as you reach over to the drawer, pulling out a sleek new surprise, its subtle hum breaking the silence in the room. A vibrator. You don’t need to see his eyes to feel the way he tenses in anticipation, a slight shiver running through him as he senses the new element you've brought into play.

With deliberate slowness, you bring the device near his skin, tracing feather-light lines along his body, testing the way he responds. Each touch brings a fresh reaction—a soft gasp, a quick inhale, his muscles tightening under your touch. His breath quickens as he tries to adjust to each sensation, the unpredictable rhythm keeping him on edge.

You make a game of it, drawing back when he seems to be getting used to one spot, then switching things up with a new touch or angle. His reactions fuel your every move, guiding you as you playfully keep him guessing, his body reacting to each carefully placed touch. Then, your hand guided the toy near his inner thighs, then to his cock. He flinched, but your immediate touch made him settle.

"You know the rules... right?" you asked, waiting for him.

"Y-yes..." he answered, already out of it.

"If you do, tell me."

"I-i should not c-cum if you dont s-say so.." he compiled to your question, a satisfactory smile rising on your lips.

"And?"

"My hands s-should always be b-behind me"

"Good boy." you said and moved the vibrator to his cock.

You got closer to him. Your left hand was resting on his thigh, making small circles onto the flesh. Your right hand was tracing lines and circles all along his entire length, achingly hard. You first circled its tip with the lowest speed, softly starting to put pressure onto it. He squirmed under your touch, muffling his moans back.

He was getting close but, you were not done yet.

You moved the free hand under the base of his cock, holding him down. You moved the head of the vibrator along the tip and the shaft, on a medium speed, then you raised it a bit. He let out a soft moan, his chest rapidly rising.

"P-please..." he pleaded.

"<Please> what? Use your words, pretty boy." you suddenly pressed the vibrator to the tip, forcefully.

"Ah, fuck! Ngh-" he moaned out, biting his lower lip.

"Use. Your. Words." you spelled it out for him, his hands barely at his back right now.

"P-please touch me again.. your hand - I need it.. p-please" he begs, nuscles tensing under your touch. A tear fell down his cheek, a playful, almost sadistic-like smile, appearing on your face.

"What a slut... aren't you?" you replaced the vibrator with your hand, "Who's slut are you?" you pumped him once.

"Y-yours! Y-yours.." he whispered.

"That's right, darling." and you decided that he deserved to cum so, you fastened your hand on his cock and the vibrator to his tip, circling it. It was already heavily leaking with pre cum, and as soon as you squeezed the tip of his cock and held the vibrator pressed to it he came, pearly white strings of cum splattering everywhere all over his lower abs and your hand, soft moans and whimpers leaving his rosy, flustered face, turning you on all over again.

You watched him, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips as Hongjoong panted, cheeks flushed and eyes half-lidded as he looked at you for approval. The sight of him—disheveled, vulnerable, a little shy—was exactly what you'd been hoping for.

"Well, well," you drawled, crossing your arms as you let your gaze linger over him, deliberately letting the silence stretch. "Look at you. So obedient, aren't you?"

Hongjoong swallowed hard, looking down, still catching his breath. "I… I did what you asked," he murmured, voice soft and a little shaky. The red in his cheeks only deepened as he spoke.

You tilted your head, making a show of appraising him slowly from head to toe, and then you moved a step closer. "Oh, I know. You did *such* a good job, didn’t you?"

His eyes flickered up to meet yours, a hint of desperation and hope mixed in with that shy, flustered look. He nodded, biting his lip in anticipation. "Y-Yes…"

You leaned in close, your voice dropping to a whisper as you tilted his chin up gently. "Did it feel good to follow the rules, Hongjoong? To do exactly as you were told?"

He whimpered slightly, closing his eyes for a moment, the sound caught somewhere between a whine and a plea. "Y-Yes… felt… so good."

"Mmm, that's what I thought," you chuckled, enjoying how his breathing hitched as you traced a gentle finger along his jawline. "And good boys who follow the rules get rewarded. Isn’t that right?"

He nodded again, his voice coming out in a small, pleading whisper. "Yes… please…"

You smiled, letting your hand trail down to his chest and then stepping back just enough to keep him wanting. "Ah, ah, so eager. But remember, *I* decide when you get your reward."

He let out a small whine, his eyes full of anticipation and need as he looked up at you. "Please…"

"So needy for me, for my hand..." said hand travelled across his chest, over his hardened nipples, softly pinching them. As you watched him squirm under you in pleasure, you moved the same hand to his pelvis, to the base of his hard-again cock. You got closer to him, leaned down and looked at him.

"I believe you'd.. like to see this," you said and softly reached out to touch the velvet fabric on his eyes and took it off. His eyes widened at your position: you were leaning on all fours between his legs, back arching, face as close as possible to his cock.

"O-oh god, babe.. you look s-so... good." he said, stuttering.

"Do you want it, Joong? Do you want me to suck you off?"

He swallowed hard, his gaze fixed on you, desire pooling in his eyes as he struggled to catch his breath. "Y-Yes... please, baby," he whispered, his voice thick with need. "I've never wanted anything more."

A teasing smile curved on your lips. "Are you sure?" you murmured, your fingers grazing lightly along his thigh, making him shiver. "I want to hear you say it, Joong."

His hands balled into fists, knuckles whitening as he tried to hold back. "Yes," he said again, more clearly this time, his voice shaking with anticipation. "I need you... I need you so bad."

You could feel the tension between you building with every second, a delicious heat that made your heart race. "Good," you purred, finally leaning forward to give him exactly what he asked for.

You leaned in, kissing the soft skin of his tip. He squirmed slightly, adjusting to the new activity. You then went on completing your reward. Your left hand held onto the base of his cock, slightly squeezing. You leaned in and kissed the tip, then licked the shaft up and down slowly for a couple of times. He already looked out of it, breath hitching and biting his lips with every touch of yours. His chest rose up and down as you went on finally sucking his length. You took a deep breath and took his whole dick all up your throat, choking and gagging on it. He whined out, hands barely behind his back now. You looked up at him and saw how eager he was to mouth fuck you.

"What you doing with the hands, baby? Didn't we agree on keeping them away from any activity?"

"I-i know... b-but.." he said.

"What? Do you want to fuck my throat so badly?" you teased.

"Y-yes ! P-please.. please." he pleaded, looking at you with puppy eyes.

"You've been a good boy lately... should I grant you your wish? Hm?"

As you smile up at him, you see his breath hitch, his eyes widening with a mix of anticipation and vulnerability. You bring one hand to his, guiding it gently, slowly, up to the top of your head. His fingers tremble slightly under your touch, betraying how much he wants this, how hard he’s trying to hold himself back.

"Here, hold me just like this," you whisper, your voice soft but commanding. "But remember, I'm leading until I say otherwise."

He nods quickly, his gaze intense, fixated on you with a desperate, pleading look. He held onto your hair softly as you took a mouthful of his length, your head bobbing up and down, sloppy sounds escaping your mouth. He shifted under you, slowly lifting his pelvis, in search of even more friction. He was *desperate*.

You stopped for a moment, looked and him and smiled. With a mischievous glint in your eye, you let the silence stretch out, savoring the way he’s utterly at your mercy. His breathing is heavy, his eyes locked onto yours, and his whole body is tense with anticipation.

You gently stroke his cheek, running your thumb over his parted lips. "You’re so eager," you murmur, voice dripping with satisfaction. "But remember, patience is a virtue." You let your hand trail down his chest, feeling his muscles tense beneath your touch, making him wait, savoring every moment.

When you finally continue, the pace is slower, more deliberate. You want to keep him on the edge, prolonging the intensity until he can barely contain himself. He groans, struggling not to buck his hips, obeying your lead with palpable effort.

"Good," you whisper approvingly, feeling the power of the moment settle between you both.

You keep your pace steady, teasing and edging him as his breaths grow ragged. His hands grip the sheets tightly, and he’s trembling now, trying to hold on. You glance up, meeting his pleading gaze, and you can feel how close he is—he's barely holding back, right on the edge.

With a knowing smile, you take him even deeper, giving him exactly what he’s been craving. The effect is immediate; his whole body tenses as he gasps, then moans, his voice breaking into soft, needy whimpers. He’s completely undone, lost in the overwhelming sensation, as he finally came. You swallowed everything, not a single drop went to waste as you slurped his load.

You don't pull away just yet. You keep him there, drawing out every last shiver, drop, until he’s utterly spent, lying back with his chest rising and falling, his eyes glazed and dazed with satisfaction. He looks up at you, breathless and vulnerable, and you brush a gentle hand across his cheek, savoring the intimacy of the moment.

Your hand reaches into the drawer beside you, fingers brushing over various items until you find what you’re looking for—the ring. Slowly, you draw it out, letting it rest in the palm of your hand, then hold it up for him to see. His eyes widen, a mix of anticipation and apprehension flickering across his face as he realizes what’s coming.

You move closer, holding his gaze as you slip the ring over his length, positioning it carefully and pausing just a second to let him feel its presence before you turn it on. The subtle, controlled vibrations pulse through him, sending a shiver down his spine. He gasps, his body immediately reacting as his hands clench and his breathing quickens.

You begin stroking him slowly, letting the ring do its work in tandem with each deliberate movement of your hand. His head falls back, lips parted as the sensations wash over him, and you see the need building in his expression—an almost desperate, needy look overtaking his face. He lets out soft, gasping pleas, his voice barely holding steady as he begs to be allowed to finish.

“Please,” he whispers, his voice tight, almost broken, as he meets your eyes with a pleading look. “I can’t… I need to…” he said, already damn overstimulated from the other two orgasms he had.

Tears begin to gather in the corners of his eyes, spilling over as his body shudders under your touch. You stay with him in that space, keeping the rhythm unrelenting but just on the edge of what he can handle, watching as he falls apart with each stroke, each pulse of the ring. His pleas become more frantic, his voice breaking as he teeters on the edge, unable to contain himself any longer.

You tilt your head, watching him struggle beneath you, his breaths coming in sharp gasps as he clings to the last bit of control he has. Smiling, you lean in close, letting your voice drop to a whisper.

"Have you been a good boy?" you ask, letting your fingers trace teasingly down his length, just enough to keep him teetering on the edge. His face flushes even deeper, eyes glazed and lips trembling as he tries to form words, but all that escape him are whimpers.

He manages a shaky nod, voice breaking as he stammers, "Y-Yes... please… I’ve been good."

You raise an eyebrow, feigning doubt, as you tighten your grip slightly, feeling him tense up under your touch. "Do you really think you deserve it?” you continue, letting each word hang as you slow your movements to a torturous pace.

Tears stream down his cheeks as he nods frantically, desperation clear in his voice. "Yes… please… I can’t—please, I need it," he chokes out, his voice a needy, pleading whisper.

With a smile, you finally relent, stroking him firmly in time with the ring’s pulse, building him up until he can’t hold back anymore. His entire body tenses as he cries out, surrendering completely, waves of relief flooding through him. You hold him steady, drawing out each trembling shiver, watching as his face softens, the tension melting away until he’s left breathless and spent, drops of silky white cum all over your hand, his abs and the now fucked up sheets.

As he finally relaxes, you gently stroke his hair, whispering words of praise. “You did so well, love. You were perfect,” you say softly, letting your voice soothe him as you place gentle kisses along his forehead and cheeks. His breathing slowly steadies, and you wrap your arms around him, holding him close as he melts into the embrace, seeking warmth and comfort.

You keep him close, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against you. Your fingers draw slow circles on his back as he buries his face into your shoulder, letting himself settle. After a few quiet moments, you gently pull back to meet his gaze, giving him a reassuring smile.

"How are you feeling?" you ask, your tone warm and full of care.

He takes a deep breath, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he searches for the right words. "I… I feel safe," he murmurs, his voice a little shaky but filled with a deep sense of contentment. "Thank you."

You give him another gentle squeeze. "That’s all I want—for you to feel safe and happy." You press a tender kiss to his forehead, watching as his eyes close, a calm, peaceful expression settling on his face.

NETWORKS:

@blossomnet

@illusionnet

PERMANENT TAGLIST:

[maxislvt]

Missed You

Summary: After being away on a needlessly long mission, the only thing Wanda wants is you.

Warnings: unedited because I wrote this is a total of 4 hours, omegaverse, smut, knotting, riding, might bondage (Wanda's magic), nipple play (no breast mention), omega Wanda typical levels of dominance, brief angst, brief discussion of infertility (reader)

Author's Note: Sorta considering making this into a more connected story that kinda follows r and omega!Wanda from AoU to MoM 🧍🏽 hit me up if you're interested low-key

Wanda found a lot of joy in dominating you.

After a long day of being underestimated by alphas and having her plans ruined by their thick headed incompetence — she could trust you'd be snuggled up in her bedsheets to make her happy again. You'd be working overtime to restore her faith in the world today.

What was only supposed to be a two day mission unfortunately turned into almost a week of reorganizing and trailing because a certain agent couldn't handle taking orders from a beta or omega. Losing focus because of a rut cycle was one thing. That was beyond anyone's culture and suppressants didn't always work. Not listening because of something as silly as "alpha instincts" was stupid completely unprofessional.

The extension meant you were forced to suffer through your rut entirely on your own. Wanda's pettiness and Natasha's professionalism couldn't let such foolishness go without punishment. A meeting with Fury would be another 30 minutes away from you, but it had to be done. You deserved her in the best mood she could possibly be in. Wanda wasn't going to let some idiot get in the way of that.

After justice had been served, she made a beeline for your room. Wanda was shocked to find it empty. She checked the gym and the kitchen and yet you were still nowhere to be found. It was strange. You normally jumped into her arms the second she got home. The only other place you could've been was her bedroom but you rarely went in there without her.

Wanda slowly opened the door to her room and peaked inside. It was a rather nice surprise. You were snuggled up in your own little nest on top of her bed. Alphas didn't nest so it was a nice surprise to see you make your own.

She crept closer to your sleeping form and climbed onto the bed. Wanda placed soft kisses on your cheek in order to wake you up. "How's my favorite alpha pup doing?" She whispered in a sugary sweet voice.

Your heart fluttered before your eyes did. A blush spread across your face as you realized you'd been caught. "Um, sorry about this. You were gone and I missed- I…I don't know it just felt right…" Subconsciously, you sink further into the mattress out of embarrassment. "I was gonna clean up before you got back but I fell asleep."

A smile appeared on her face. "Oh baby, you don't have to apologize. I'm just happy you're comfortable." It's a cute little moment and Wanda doesn't want to ruin it but seeing you so vulnerable and relaxed reminded her why she went looking for you. One of her hands ran up and down your stomach. "Do you want me to scent your nest? Most omegas find their nests more comfortable when their alphas scent is stronger."

For a moment you just soaked in the affection that Wanda gave you. "Mhm, this stuff doesn't smell like you anymore." Your body melted into the bed as Wanda's sweet and spicy scent filled the room. Wanda's body heat and scent were almost enough to send you back to the land of dreams. Before you could, a painfully familiar heat began overtaking your body again. It was searing hot and desperate — worsened by the proximity to your mate. "I think…I think you messed up my rut cycle."

Wanda tilted her in confusion. "What's wrong?" She could've been cruel and played dumb until you properly asked for her, but she decided to play nice. Her hand slid down to your crotch and groped the erection forming in your pants. "You certainly don't have issues getting it up." Your boxers were practically ripped off your body. She straddled your thighs and immediately put her attention on your cock. Already hard and desperate for release. "Tell your omega what's wrong, I can't help you if you don't speak up."

A shiver ran down your spine as Wanda's palm slid up and down your shaft. "Um, it uh it just- ah!" You were putty in Wanda's hands already. She had you shaking and stumbling over your words with just a few touches. The pleasure you desperately craved days earlier was finally at your fingertips. it was almost too much for you to bear. "I- I was fine this morning and I thought it was over, but you're back and it's really bad!"

Wanda hummed as if genuinely contemplating what you were telling her. "It's probably just your rut trying to even out still. Bruce did say it'd take a while for it to be normal again." Either she was right or her mere presence had somehow cranked your hormones up to eleven. Neither sounded that bad to her. She placed a soft kiss on your painfully red tip and smiled. "Tell your omega how bad you need her. Do you want to try knotting me again?"

It seemed to be more of a plan than a question as Wanda already started the process of stripping herself. Wanda loved hearing you insist and rush out an answer, but there was no reason to drag out the situation much longer.

You slipped into Wanda's cunt with ease. She was so warm and tight — it was a miracle you didn't cum in the spot. The thought of barely lasting five minutes had you scrambling to lift her off. "C-can we try another way? I don't think this is really fair to you-"

Wanda pushed you back down. Her magic wrapped around your wrist and pinned them to the head board. "Shush, I know my little alpha is sensitive right now. Just focus on trying to knot me, ok?" She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around your neck. Fortunately for you, Wanda decided to take pity on you and set a slow pace for you. Staying in control became increasingly difficult. "If we keep this up, we'll be in sync before you know it."

She nuzzled into your neck, covering you in her scent. Then she immediately slid down to focus on your nipples. "I think I should play with these more, they're so sensitive." The smirk on her face was cat-like and evil. Without much warning, she began to tweak and tug your nipples. Every whine and whimper that came out of your mouth tightened the knot in her stomach. "My little alpha pup is so sensitive at times." She chuckled before giving your nipples a hard tug.

"Noo, don't do that please!" You whined out. Your hips started to squirm and cant up. "I'm gonna cum, please let me cum inside." An unfamiliar swelling started at the base of your cock and slowly began to grow. "I think it's happening!" Your head fell back against the pillow. Overstimulation was going to be the death of you. "It's too much."

Wanda continued to rut against you. "No no, it's okay just keep going." She cupped your face, forcing you to look at her. Intimacy was always her number one priority. "Look at me, baby. You're doing such a good job." She let out a throaty moan as your knot finally slipped inside of her. "Oh baby, you're making me feel so full. I'm proud of you!"

You buried your face into your omega's neck. A low whine forced its way out of your mouth as your cum painted Wanda's walls. "Fuck that feels so good," You rushed as your knot finally slipped inside of Wanda.

The painful stretch of your knot was all Wanda needed to tumble into her own orgasm. Her walls fluttered and her hips began to mindlessly rut against you with no direction. "You're making your omega feel good, I love you so much." She peppered kisses all over your face as she rode out her high. Wanda fell forward the second her orgasm was over.

Both of you were covered in sweat, tired, and absolutely ruined.

You were the first to speak after a best of silence. "Is this…is this gonna get you pregnant?" The two of you had yet to discuss what you wanted for yourselves. Retirement, college, kids — all that stuff seemed like something for the future. It wasn't a good idea to make those decisions so quickly.

Wanda shook her head. "A knot doesn't work if you can't get pregnant beforehand." She kissed your cheek. "We'll cross that bridge when we get there. Just relax for now, okay?" A family would've been wonderful, but you weren't capable of getting Wanda pregnant and Avenging with a family wasn't ideal. The truth left Wanda's eyes stinging, but she trusted that the two of you could make something work.

You could see the sadness growing on Wanda's face, but decided not to make it worse. Instead, you wrapped her in a tight hug and scented her. "You can be the big spoon when I can pull out if you want…"

Wanda leaned back and looked up at you. You took care of her even when you were covered in sweat and ass naked. A loving smile spread across her face. "I don't know, I might stick to being the little spoon from now on," She said teasingly. Wanda laughed at the pout on your face. "I'm kidding. I couldn't let my favorite teddy bear go without cuddles for too long."

You let out an embarrassed huff as a blush spread across your face. "You're so mean sometimes."

[sunshinevanfleet]

it's never over - j. kiszka

pairing: jake x reader

a/n: hi there! here's a nice little friends/fwb/ex-lovers to lovers kinda fic for our jakey <3 i got super into this one and just wrote this absolutely self-indulgent shit and i loved every second of it. this one is pretty long so buckle in and i hope u love it. also this shit is completely unedited so if there's mistakes i'm sorry pls forgive me. ok love ya :)

genre: smut (18+ ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT), some fluff

word count: 5.8k

summary: the reader and jake have a complicated past, full of firsts, failed relationships, and hidden feelings. they reunite, and old sparks are rekindled.

warnings: alcohol consumption, swearing, unprotected sex, explicit sex scenes, etc.

Flames shimmering in the night. A silhouette, head thrown back, eyes squeezed shut. Such a familiar sight. His fingers worked the frets with vigor and dedication, coaxing out the notes that made thousands of people cheer their approval. His body rocked along, movements sending his hair down over his eyes, obscuring that concentrated face. His skin glowed with the effort of his ministrations, playing as if his life depended on it. You always loved that about him, his devotion to perfecting and mastering his passion. 

In a daze, you didn’t dare tear your eyes away. Your humble seat offered him no view of you, but he knew you were there. He invited you, after all. Back in the city, you watched him perform online, saw all of the videos of him absolutely shredding his solos, dominating the stage and seducing the audience with his talent. Was it vain to say you thought he might be trying a little harder, now that he knew you were watching? 

Either way, he was made for the stage. The limelight empowered him, the cheering, the attention, the love permeating the space around him made this life so easy for him. He shone brighter than all of the lights, calling forth the dedication and affections of their fans. He melted into the music, became one with it, let it pour from his fingers in something like a prayer. You agreed that there was something religious about it– almost like an ascension as you let yourself feel the notes like lightning through your veins. You closed your eyes and felt it. You had to let yourself feel it.

By the time the show was over, you were breathless, sweating. There were few times you enabled yourself to let loose, to live in the moment. Somehow, you thought Jake knew you needed this. A night to just be. He could be funny, that way. 

Embarrassed, you slipped the little backstage pass you had been carrying around out of your backpocket. You were too nervous to go back before the show, not wanting to look foolish in your reunion with Jake. Forcing yourself to suck it up, you made your way backstage, security not giving you a second look as you draped the lanyard around your neck. There were dozens of little rooms as you navigated the area, dodging roadies and security as you searched for a familiar face. The chaos unnerved you; for a split second, you debated just turning around and going back home. Jake would never know you’d come at all.

Fat chance he would let you get off that easily. He emerged from a dressing room just as you were planning to make a break for it. You quickly forced a calm facade over your features. Be cool, Y/N.

“Hey there, rockstar,” you said, still vaguely breathless. 

He perked up at the sound of your voice, eyes bright as he turned towards you. “There you are.” A grin played on his lips as he waltzed over, immediately pulling you into his arms.

You relaxed into his touch immediately; he was a sweaty mess, skin sticky as he squeezed you, but you didn’t care. The very touch of his skin against yours had you reeling already. He pressed his lips against your hair in a quick kiss, then pulled away to look at you.

“It’s been too long,” he said, taking in your appearance. “Your hair’s longer. I like it.”

“And yours is shorter,” you reached up, flicking at the ends of his hair. You liked it, but didn’t want to admit it. Didn’t he have a big enough ego already?

“Yeah, kept getting in the way,” he said. “How’d you like the show?”

“It was good,” you nodded. “Really good–amazing, actually. You’re better every time I see you.” 

His grin widened. He draped an arm over your shoulder, and squeezed you again. “I really missed you, angel.”

“‘Bout time you finally remembered me,” you said, with a hint of brattiness. When you received the invitation from him, you had been hesitant to come at all. He hadn’t offered anything more than a simple, ‘happy birthday’ to you in more than a year, even though he claimed you were one of his closest friends. Of course, the rockstar lifestyle was demanding, and busy… But it was hard not to feel slighted by the lack of his attention. “What made you invite me anyway?”

“Well, I missed you, clearly,” he said, “But I also saw your pictures… Rolling Stone, Y/N… You’re big time now, huh?”

You smiled softly, shaking your head. The apples of your cheeks flushed, and your ears burned. “It was uh–no big deal, really. I got those pictures when I was out in L.A. last summer. Who would’ve imagined little ol’ me accidentally stumbling into the rock ‘n roll scene?”

“I think you fit in,” Jake said, his voice tinged with amusement. “Did you bring your camera?”

He motioned for you to follow him to his dressing room. Your steps faltered behind him. Had he invited you here just to take his photo? Surely not. Either way, your camera was tucked safely in your bag back in your hotel room. This was the one experience you weren’t going to share with anyone. The only memories of it would be yours and yours alone.

“Left it back at the hotel,” you said, sounding a little disheartened.

“No biggie. Just thought it might be fun to get a couple shots together.” He was still cheerful, and that made you hope your assumption was wrong. You entered the dressing room, and couldn’t help but smile at the little remembrances of him lying around. A spare guitar pick (or ten), a discarded cigar box, and his favorite sunglasses. A gentle smile played on your lips; he hadn’t changed a bit. Still your Jake.

“Let me change,” Jake began, shrugging off his jacket and hanging it haphazardly on a rack. Without hesitation, he continued undressing. His pants landed in a heap on the carpeted floor, and you were graced with the fantastic view of him in his undergarments. You flushed again, forcing your attention away from the ripple and flexing of his back muscles as he got dressed. He half-buttoned his black shirt, and pulled on a nice pair of pleated pants. 

“Who are you getting all dressed up for?” you teased, now relaxed as you kicked back on the plush couch. Your eyes followed his every movement. He was always good at putting you in a trance, his very presence enough to distract you from everything else on your mind. 

He turned back to you, grinning. You noticed the dark smudge of eyeliner around his eyes, and it made your heart flutter. He was so pretty, it wasn’t fair. You trailed your eyes away from his and down to that sweet smile, and almost melted into the sofa.

“I’m taking you out to dinner,” he said, as if it were obvious. He fiddled with one of the little gold hoops in his ear, adjusting it before swiping his hands down over his shirt in order to straighten out the wrinkles. 

You raised your eyebrows. “Bit late for dinner.”

“Who cares? I’m starving, and I want to take you to dinner.”

“Jake, I’m not dressed for dinner,” you said, gesturing down at your simple blouse and jeans.

His eyes followed your direction, pausing a moment over your half-exposed chest before he continued down. He mulled it over for a second, then shrugged. “I think you’re perfectly dressed for dinner. Wouldn’t want to have anyone else on my arm.”

You rolled your eyes, scoffing at his insistence. “Fine.”

Dinner was an intimate affair. Somehow, he swept you off to the tiniest cafe on the very outskirts of town. Midnight greeted you with a cool breeze as the waiter led the both of you to a private table in the back garden of the cafe. The area was gated, tall, wrought-iron fences protected you from the outside world, shielding you with their vines and flowers growing freely.

In the moonlight, he was more beautiful than ever. The light kissed the planes of his face in all the right places, accentuating those eyes and making his smile glitter in the dim air. You wanted to reach out to him, touch his face and kiss those pillowy soft lips. Just like old times. You pushed the thought away as he ordered a bottle of champagne for the two of you, something expensive. It was dawning on you just how much of a real celebrity he was– he almost felt as out of touch as the people you photographed for work. You were just another onlooker into his glamorous, extravagant lifestyle. The thought stung. 

“You must know every hidden spot in this city,” you said thoughtfully, eyes ghosting over a string of twinkling lights on the balcony overhead. There was more seating there, but the two of you were the only patrons at this hour. They had only let the two of you in because the bartender was on a first-name-basis with Jake.

“Sure,” he said, “but this one’s my favorite. The food’s fantastic.”

You laughed at his enthusiasm. Then, said teasingly, “You must bring all the girls here.”

He wrinkled his nose for a second, “No,” he said, musing. “No, only my favorite.” He winked at you then, taking a quick swig of his champagne and placing the flute back on the table.

You were quiet for a second, not knowing what to say, so he continued. “How’s life in The Big Apple? How’s the fiancé?” 

You frowned. “New York’s good… You know me, I love being busy…”

“And Henry?”

The very sound of the name sent a wave of nausea over you. You really hoped he wouldn’t ask, yet here you were.

“We–we, uh, broke up. About eight months ago. He called the whole thing off,” you said, your voice a bit strangled as you tried to talk around the lump in your throat. You weren’t upset over the relationship; the engagement had been strained at best, but you were embarrassed to have to admit it to Jake. He had warned you dozens of times that you were making the wrong decision, and you had done it anyway to spite him.

He looked taken aback, albeit only slightly. Then, a bit smug as he realized his suspicions were correct. “What happened?”

You took a long drink, and shrugged. “He couldn’t handle my work schedule, being gone all of those hours. He didn’t want me traveling, didn’t trust me on my own…”

“He didn’t trust you on your own?” Jake’s curious eyes bored into you, and you knew you couldn’t lie to him.

“He thought– he thought I was with you, a lot of the time,” you admitted. “He thought you know–”

“That we were still–” Jake continued, but you cut him off.

“Yeah, yeah… That’s why we broke it off. No hard feelings or anything, even if he was wrong.” You laughed half-heartedly.

Jake nodded, then thanked the waiter as he brought your food and disappeared back inside. You weren’t particularly hungry anymore. “Maybe it’s a good thing,” he said.

“How’s that?”

“Well, I can see you now, without having to worry about him showing up to bite my head off.” His laugh rang through the night air, joyful and melodious. You couldn’t help the smile that broke through your features.

“He wouldn’t do that, Jake,” you said. “You can see me whenever you want. Whenever you get time.”

“I couldn’t before, not like this,” he replied, his voice quieter. “Not how I wanted to see you.”

You blinked at him, pushing your food around on your plate with your fork. Still distracted by his very existence. He was too much. “What do you mean by that?”

His gaze was very tender as he reached across the table, his freehand brushing yours. Goosebumps snaked up your arm and traveled all over your body. Your face burned. 

“You know what I mean, Y/N…”

Talking about your feelings had never been your strong suit, and Jake knew that. If he brought you here for some kind of heartfelt confession… Well, you weren’t at all sure that you could handle the pressure. The two of you were stuck in some kind of relational limbo, on and off friends and lovers for the past ten years. Hell, he’d been your first kiss, your first time, your first love, and still somehow things had never seemed to fall into place. But now… 

“Why now?” you asked him, voice wavering. It would be a lie to say that you didn’t still harbor love for him, that you weren’t still trying to move on from him. He was still, after all of these years, everything you wanted and everything you couldn’t let yourself have. Why?

He sighed, leaning back in his chair as he ran both of his hands over his face and through his hair. He leaned back, propping them behind his head as he looked at you carefully. His gaze was gentle, as if he were afraid he were going to hurt you again. From the tugged together eyebrows, you could tell he was thinking hard. Thinking of how he was going to explain everything going through his mind, articulating it so that you could understand him completely. You loved him for it.

“I–I just… I just know it’s meant to be us, angel,” he said, the hint of longing in his voice sending a jolt through you. “After all of these years, all of these failed relationships, seeing hundreds of cities… You’re all I ever think about.”

Pressing your lips together, you tried not to let him see the glassiness in your eyes. You swore you weren’t going to cry today, yet here you were. Your eyes burned as you turned away, looking at the lights again. Avoiding those eyes that could see right through you. His hand squeezed yours, bringing it up to his lips. They brushed over your skin, barely touching you but still warming you to the core. A tear slipped from your eye, trickling down and darkening the smallest spot of the tablecloth. 

“Jake…”

“You don’t have to say anything. I didn’t come here to force anything on you. I just thought you should know…”

“Why didn’t you come for me sooner?” You were hurt now, knowing that he felt the same all of this time. That the two of you were probably in two different cities, both staring out of hotel windows thinking about the other. One of you watching the sunrise, the other watching it set. Perfect mirrors of each other.

Another sigh from him. You made eye contact again, finally, and saw his pained, pining expression reflecting your own. The fear in his face that you wouldn’t accept him, that you would get up and leave him missing you all over again. 

“I wish I knew,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “Lying about it is the stupidest thing I’ve ever done.”

There was something else beneath the pain in his expression. Shame. Your heart was breaking as you sat there, crying behind this cafe in the middle of the night. There was an element of the ridiculous to it, just enough to cause a giggle to spill from your lips. He was right; he was so, so stupid. 

“How many years have we wasted just because we’re afraid of commitment?” you blurted.

Through the tears in his own eyes, Jake laughed. Your pulse thundered in your ears, and you were suddenly wishing that the whole world would disappear around you. You wanted to be alone with your Jake. Yours and yours alone, finally.

“Won’t you take me home?” you asked after a minute. He agreed without hesitation, dropping a wad of cash on the table and offering his hand. You took it, sweeping out of the restaurant behind you.

As you left, Jake called, “Thank you for the champagne, Louis!” Then, you were ducking into a sleek black car with his driver. You directed him to the address of your hotel, and the two of you were off. The ride was quiet, Jake humming along to the song playing on the radio. Your hands were clasped together in his lap, his thumb tracing patterns into the skin. You relished every brush of his skin against yours: your knees touching, your shoulders bumping, the periodic kisses on the top of your head. By the time you were at the hotel, you were practically buzzing. 

Jake took the key from you as you arrived at the room. Your hands were shaking too badly to unlock the door. He ushered you inside with a hand on your lower back, both of you dissipating into the darkness as he shut the door behind you. 

“Reminds me of old times,” Jake said, whispering. The two of you thumped around the dark room; you heard him kick his shoes off, the billowy sound of his shirt landing on the chair in the corner. You were peeling out of your jeans, letting your hair down from its clip, throwing your blouse in the direction of the same chair. 

“What, sneaking around in the dark?” you replied, smirking. There was a flash of him, long ago, that same mousy smile you loved so much playing on his lips as he tapped on your bedroom window. It was hard to believe you weren’t those same kids anymore, fooling around right underneath your parents’ noses.

“Mhmm,” he hummed. He took a couple of steps, and found you in the dark. His hands were on you immediately, calloused palms snaking around your waist from behind. His body sculpted against yours, the two of you melting together as his lips found your neck. You shivered, his breath tickling your skin as he slowly trailed feather-light kisses up until he reached your jaw, your cheek, the corner of your mouth. Your mouths met in a slow, meticulous kiss. You relished in the feeling, enjoying the contrast to your last time together. It had been a long time since you’d taken things slow, actually appreciated the moment. 

A contented breath left your chest as he pulled away. Both of his hands snaked up, slowly pulling down the straps to your bra before finding the clasp to remove it completely. The lack of contact startled you for a second, then his touch was back. His hands cupped your breasts, slowly kneading the flesh as he pressed his lips to your shoulder.

“I missed you,” a kiss, “so fucking much, angel.” Another kiss. You leaned your head back, resting it on his shoulder. Normally, you would be begging for him to touch you, to fuck you senseless at this point. Something about the two of you taking your time tonight felt sacred. It would be blasphemous to rush perfection. 

“You have no idea,” you muttered, voice weak as you drowned in his tender embrace. You would be happy to spend eternity like this, his arms holding you steady and his lips on your skin. No force in the universe would be able to drag you away. 

You quivered as he grazed his nose against you, breathing in the scent of your skin. One of his hands traveled upward, grasping your chin and gently tilting your head to the side. He brushed his lips over the sensitive skin of your throat, sucking and biting the skin softly. A hushed moan escaped your lips, parting the dreamy quiet of the hotel room.

“Jake…” your voice was hardly more than a whisper, but you felt him tense at the sound.

“Oh, angel, I love it when you say my name like that…” The softness of his voice sent your heart aflutter, his words lighting a fire inside of you.

“Please,” you breathed, “I just wanna be close to you.”

“C’mon,” his fingers interlaced with yours, pulling you towards the bed. “Be close to me, angel…” 

You settled on top of the duvet, heart aflutter as the pillows cradled your head. He rested between your legs, hands finding the curve of your calves in the darkness. He traced over the skin lightly, his touch whispering over the goosebumps blooming over your body. A weak sigh left your lips. You were struggling not to squirm under his attention, your nerves starting to settle in. The dark was a blessing and a curse; you craved the sight of him hovering over you, but were glad he couldn’t see the blush heating your features. 

“You okay?” He leaned in, hands sliding up to your inner thighs as he kissed you gently, his lips barely touching yours.

“Yes,” you whispered, hands coming up to cradle his face. “A little nervous, I think.”

He chuckled lightly as he pulled away, and you couldn’t help your smile. You could picture the look on his face, that little proud smirk due to his effect on you. A small gasp left your lips as you felt him shift over you, one of his hands deserting its place on your inner thigh in order to move to your center. Your mouth fell open, head falling back on the pillows as he swirled his thumb over your clothed clit. You bit back a moan, chewing on your lip.

“Uh-uh,” he chastised, softening the pressure between your legs. “I want to hear you… Every sweet little sound that comes out of these lips.” His free hand found your chin, thumb tracing over your parted lips. 

“O–okay,” you agreed breathily. Anything to keep him touching you. 

His hand fell away, moving back down to keep your legs parted for him. The pads of his fingers pressed into the flesh of your inner thigh, the feeling of him holding you there almost as blissful as the sparks of pleasure spreading through your center. Lewd little noises accompanied the sound of your pleased moans as he touched you; the fabric of your underwear was soaked through, plastered against you with your juices and dragging so deliciously against you with every movement of his finger. Your eyes screwed shut, your back arched as he pushed you slowly towards your release. You were practically purring beneath him, writhing and shivering at the lightest of his touches. 

“Can I take these off?” His fingers brushed past the waistband of your panties, burning against your bare skin.

“Please,” you said. 

He obliged, hooking the fabric with ease and dragging it down your legs. His knuckles grazed your skin, making you shiver. When they were discarded, you felt him shift, and you reached for him.

“Hold on,” he said, voice soft. 

There was the sound of rustling as he adjusted his weight, and then the sound of the lamp clicking on to your left. Warm light bathed the room, finally illuminating the incredible sight of him above you. His eyeliner was smudged beneath his eyes, his pillowy lips swollen, his hair disheveled. A smile graced his face as his loving gaze found yours.

“Much better.” Another chaste kiss against your lips, and then he was pulling back to admire your body. “I love seeing you like this… All pretty and spread open for me.” He dragged a finger over your exposed slit, finger spreading your arousal through your folds. He bit down on his lip, entranced by the sight of you. You laid there, content to let him do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted, for however long. Just the sight of him perched there, drinking you in, was enough to have your mind reeling.

It didn’t last long, however, because Jake had an idea. It was as if a lightbulb went off in his head, his eyes lighting up as he met your gaze. He was still touching you, driving you crazy as your hips twitched in anticipation. 

“What’s that look for?” you groaned. 

“Where’s your camera?”

He was off of the bed in a second, following your eyes to the bag sitting beneath your discarded clothes in the plush chair in the corner. You watched him as he unzipped the bag, his bare back to you as he removed your camera and held it gently between fingers. You propped yourself up on your elbows, wondering what could possibly be going on in his brain. 

He flicked the power on, holding it up to his eye and adjusting the settings as needed.

“Lay back down,” he breathed as he turned to you, a new level of excitement in his voice.

“Jake…”

“C’mon, angel.” The smile on his face was irresistible. “Humor me.”

You sighed, a nervous smile finding its way to your face. You breathed deeply. “If we do this, it’s for your eyes only,” you warned, voice pointed. 

“You’re all mine, Y/N. I don’t intend for anyone else to see you like this. Ever.”

Your skin flushed, and you fell back against the pillows as he joined you in bed again. He kneeled at your feet, lifting the camera so the photo framed you in all of your glory. He snapped a photo of you spread there, legs open and face gleaming with sweat as you obliged his request. You lifted one hand up, shielding your face with your forearm; you weren’t used to being on the other end of the lens.

“Please,” he said. “Don’t cover your face, my love.”

The sweetness dripping from his tone bred butterflies in your stomach, your breaths increasing as you nodded. “I’m sorry,” you sighed. “It’s just– well, I’m not used to the camera. And I’m nervous.”

He nodded. “Y/N, nothing in this world is more beautiful than you to me. You don’t have to be nervous.” His hand squeezed your leg comfortingly, and you relaxed a little. 

He continued snapping photographs, brushing his hands over your body as he did so. A photo of your face, his thumb inserted gently between your parted lips. One of his hands caressing the valley between your breasts, his fingers dipping into your center, your face as he pleased you with that free hand. The thought of him having all of these images of you, these keepsakes of your time together was making you crazy. The throbbing between your legs was getting worse by the second; you were craving him inside of you. You wanted him pressed so closely to you that it was hard to tell where you ended and he began.

“‘M almost done,” he breathed, palming himself through his briefs as he watched your chest heave. He was barely touching you, but the look on his face, the excitement in his voice was enough to have you squirming beneath him. The thought that the sight of you laying there beneath him was bringing him this much pleasure… It was enough to send your head spinning.

“Jake, I need you, please.”

He snapped one last photograph of your begging face, your eyes hooded, your chapped lips and chin slick with saliva, hair haloed around your face on the pillow, and then he delicately placed the camera on the table beside the bed. 

“My sweet angel,” he breathed, leaning forward and caging you in with his hands on either side of your head. His face dipped, lips finding yours with vigor. His tongue swirled into your mouth, and you relished in the taste of him, hands grasping him and trying to pull him even closer. You broke free after a second, both panting.

His forehead pressed against yours, and his hand traveled down between the two of you, freeing his length from his briefs. You breathed a sigh of relief; you were too worked up to wait any longer. You needed the delicious stretch of him pushing into you more than you needed air. The head of his cock bumped your clit, sending a jolt through you as he positioned his length against your center.

“Oh, God, please,” the sound spilled from your lips like a prayer, and Jake breathed a pleased moan as he finally pushed into you. You cried out, holding onto him as if he were the only thing tethering you to the earth. There was an inkling of discomfort for a second, then the sweet release of him bottoming out inside of you. Pleasure masked everything around you; the only thing on your mind was his slow rocking motion, his cock dragging against your walls seemingly in slow-motion. 

“Shit,” he breathed against you, breath fanning over your face. His eye contact didn’t waver, those brown eyes boring into yours with an intensity that was almost too much. 

Your eyes fluttered closed for a second, but he slowed the movements of his hips until he was almost still.

“Gotta look at me, angel,” he murmured sweetly. He kissed you again, so soft and loving you thought you might cry. You forced your eyes open, back arching as he resumed his movements inside of you. “There’s my good girl…” His smile send a rush through you, your heart pounding. 

“Feels so good, Jake,” you managed to say, through the haze of pleasure clouding your thoughts.

“I know, baby, I know,” he nodded, still refusing to look away from you. The dark desire coloring his eyes made your stomach tighten, the coil of pleasure between your legs building so quickly it was making your head spin. You hooked a leg around him, nails digging into his skin. His thrusts met your hips again, deeper this time, and you gasped at the feeling.

“Oh, just like that–” you cried, voice desperate as he did exactly as you asked. He was buried inside of you to the hilt, his hips rocking against yours in slow yet powerful thrusts. His pelvic bone dragged against your clit, sending sparks of pleasure up through your abdomen. His weight held you down as you squirmed beneath him, closer to your orgasm by the second.

“Hmmm, you like that? You gonna cum all pretty for me? Make a mess for me, angel?” His voice was low, though he was panting as he approached his own release. Your lips met in a messy kiss, lips and teeth bumping as he focused all of his attention on his movements below the waist. You breathed into each other’s mouths, high-pitched moans and groans of each others’ names filling the air between you. 

You clenched your legs around him as you teetered on the brink of your climax. Your pussy tightened around him, pleasure snaking through your limbs as you forced yourself to maintain eye contact. You knew if you looked away, he would stop, and you wouldn’t be able to take it. 

“I’m almost–”

“Give it to me,” Jake interrupted, his voice almost a growl. His pace stuttered slightly as you gripped around him again. “Cum for me, my sweet girl. I know you can… Cum all pretty around my cock. You can do that for me can’t you?”

“Yes, yes,” you gasped, holding onto him for dear life. He didn’t slow, snapping his hips into yours with renewed vigor at the sound of your voice. 

“There you go, baby,” he breathed, at the feeling of you squeezing him. You called out his name, almost screaming as he reached between you to play with your clit as your orgasm finally hit you. Your entire body seized up, shaking almost violently as he guided you through your release. “That’s it, cum for me… C’mon baby…”

You chanted his name like a mantra, over and over again as you came. Your eyes locked onto his and wouldn’t let go as he encouraged your pleasure, helping you ride the waves of overwhelming ecstasy at his touch. You tightened your legs around him as you felt his muscles tense, his own orgasm approaching.

“Ah, fuck,” he moaned, low, and the sound of it almost pushed you back to the edge. You were floating on cloud nine, watching his features screw up as his orgasm washed over him. His hips snapped into yours, skin colliding in lewd slapping noises. “Fuck, I love this pussy pulling me in…” He groaned, grasping your chin with one hand and crashing his lips to yours. You leaned into the kiss, deepening it as you felt his release inside of you, his body tautening as he finally came.

His hips slowed and eventually stopped, and he laid there on top of you for a second. His head was tucked in the crook of your neck, his breath fanning over your skin as he panted. You swept a hand through his hair, brushing it off of his sweat-slicked forehead. His skin burned beneath your touch; the sheets around you were soaked through with sweat, and you could feel the sticky mixture of your cum pooling between your legs, even with him still inside of you. The thought of it made you clench around him, and he whimpered softly, one hand shooting down to grip your waist.

“Don’t do that, please,” he grunted, voice desperate. “Too sensitive.”

“Sorry,” you giggled weakly. “It was an accident…”

He forced himself up off of you, and placed a kiss on your forehead. Slowly, he pulled out of you and sat up, leaning back on his haunches. The sight of him above you was enough to send your core throbbing again; his body tan and shining with his sweat, eyeliner smudged wildly around his eyes, hair pushed back out of his face. You thought you could stand to go another three or four rounds, if only he could keep up with you.

You shifted slightly, moving to lean up and touch him again. He stopped you with an outreached hand. “Don’t move a muscle,” he said.

“What?”

But he was grabbing the camera again, eyes flashing with the fervent determination of an artist when they saw their muse. He positioned himself above you on the bed again, letting the warm light bathe your figure as he snapped a photo of you, laying there on the ruined sheets. Then, he placed the camera back on the nightstand, still looking quite pleased.

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “Are you just gonna sit there and stare at me all night?”

He shrugged, “If you’ll let me.”

“Come here,” you held your arms open, and he obliged, curling into your embrace. You held him close to your chest, let him listen to your heartbeat. A pleased sigh fell from your lips as you laid there, brushing your fingers through his hair. 

“I love you,” he muttered, voice muffled against your skin. “Can’t believe I ever let you go…”

“Shit happens, Jake,” you responded. “But I’m all yours now. Isn’t that enough?”

He smiled, ghosting his lips over your collarbone. “It’s enough. Forever and ever, it’s enough.”

[valentine-writes]

Hello hello! Been downright dying over how much I love your AtSV work!! So I thought I would feed into it >:) If you're feeling up to it, whats been brewing in your mind about The Spot x reader? Take it platonic or romantic, either has so much potential for fun in my opinion and I guess I'm just interested in what ideas you might have?? Not a lot to work off of from what I'm asking but I hope you're able to have fun with it anyways ^^; Whether youre able to get to this request or not, thanks for reading! Love what you do :)

collision.

「 tws + notes: possibly ooc, unedited, he's kind of pathetic little meow meowified im sorry, first bit inspired by @//submurged-into-clouds !! <3 」

↳ ft. the spot

「 gn!reader, can be platonic or romantic <3 」

author's note: first, AUWJHEJSBS thank u so much!!!! im glad u like what i've written so far– and i am SUPER excited to write for the spot becuz im gon b real,,, there was a momentary lapse of insanity where i was scouring for any content of him at all. SO TY 4 UR REQ!!!! ( /)u(\ ) i hope this is ok!!! i got carried away and stuff so,, i hope this is at the Very Least coherent! leaned for platonic stuff with romantic undertones that intensify throughout so,, read it how u like ^_^

▸ we're going to start this by establishing that bro has literally No Friends anymore. you met him after the collider incident and by some miracle, some sort of mercy from a higher power in the multiverse– you ended up becoming friends with him

really, meeting him was an accident. wasn't supposed to be anything more– just him messing around with his new abilities and slipping into a random universe with no idea where he was.

and there was you.

just you. out, alone at night. just taking a walk– disrupted by someone falling out of a weird portal from the sky.

this is the day your paths crossed, the day your fates intertwined, the moment that your world collided into his.

to put more literally: the day he crashed into you very unceremoniously.

im now re-reading the title and remembering his backstory and giggling at my unintentional joke. he is not catching a break. even from me.

▸ after recovering from a random stranger from another universe tumbling into your own, you began to talk.

now– you don't remember how the conversation started, but you were glad to listen. the way which he rambled to you, words tumbling out of his mouth like they'd been on his mind for a while– you felt like he needed someone to hear him.

he's surprised. you're not bothered. not frightened. not even weirded out. but you're not indifferent. you nod along, you comment on things here and there– but you listen. you actually listen to him.

eventually, when he leaves, you're sat there for a moment. just frozen– processing whether that had really happened or not. you see the indent his body left in the grass where the two of you sat. it's evidence enough for you.

a few weeks pass and you're certain that you were just fated to meet once and never again. you were fine with this.

▸ until he randomly popped up in your living room one day.

yes, he had been actively trying to find your universe again– and as casually as he can be, is now peeking from out the portal he created, head leaning in to get a better look at you.

you're not sure how you can tell considering he has no face,,, but he's definitely smiling.

he waves to you, awkwardly, (noticing that you're just staring at him while not saying a word), "thought i would say hi, so– ...hi."

you blink at him tiredly. "dude, it's 6:30 in the morning–"

he's treating this like it's normal for people to just show up in your house. he missed you– and it's very evident.

▸ no matter what type of relationship you're in with him: you GOTTA set boundaries. being one of the only people who cares to hang around him anymore means that you're gonna be seeing a lot of him.

while he certainly hasn't completely lost grasp on the concept of privacy, it's definitely been altered by the fact he's got powers that allow him to pop up wherever he wants. he's just a teeny bit invasive.

"hello!" he'll greet, randomly poking his head through a portal he made to your bedroom.

on instinct, you throw the closest thing to you. he's just glad you reached for the pillow and not the alarm clock also at your arms reach on the bedside table.

definitely a good idea to remind him that if he wants to hang out, he should probably message you, and if he wants to show up at your house for whatever reason, he should give you a heads up.

he has nearly walked in on you changing. and has apologized a million times every time it's brought up. it fr keeps him up at night.

▸ everyone in his life leaving him def messed him up a bit. he can deny it all he wants, but he's terribly anxious that you're gonna grow tired of him and leave.

constantly like "oh my god what if they leave for someone who has a face" and itz like,,, boy,,,, stfu itz 3am

he needs reassurance, even if he never explicitly says. but you're kind to him. patient. you're pretty much an angel in his eyes.

which is why he feels comfortable texting u in the dead of night like:

(im gonna b real i dont even know why i have this image)

▸ he's dismissed by most people around him– but you've given him your time. you've shown him that you care. he's doing everything he can to be certain you'll still care for him.

the random waves of "oh no but what if they hate me" hit him HARD. especially if he hasn't seen you in a while, if you take longer to respond to his messages, if you haven't been answering his calls– bro will jump to a conclusion

"hypothesis: they dont love me anymore :("

☝️🤓 SORRY HAKJWOENDOEND he would NOT say that. im just clowning on him itz a part of my luv 4 him </3

needs to be needed. wants to be wanted.

eventually you have a long talk about this. he's got a bit of an ego after realizing how much power he truly possessed– but you gently encourage him to let it down. a simple heart to heart. and while you're certain these things aren't going to dissipate with a single conversation, you've let him know he doesn't have to deal with it alone.

▸ physical contact is a need for him. bro's touch starved. he likes linking his pinky with yours or just intertwining your fingers together. if you ever let him rest his head on your shoulder or hugged him he'd actually have to fight tears. he hasn't been given affection in a while :(

▸ he doesn't really feel like he has to hide anything around you. he really doesn't have much of a filter when you're talking to him which makes for some amusing conversation. he finds your laughter the sweetest sound in the world– he likes making you laugh :] it makes him feel like he's accomplished something

▸ the alterations to his body have caused some weird little changes that most people don't notice. one of them most noticeably to you– he'd cold. not frigid or like icy, but a lot colder than normal people tend to be.

you first notice this when you're hanging out in your bedroom. you're sitting on your bed, while he paces back and forth, rambling about another failed villainous act

(you haven't questioned his whole obsession with villainy considering that he seems pretty harmless with what he's been attempting– no matter how much he tries)

"and then– ohh, and tHEN THEY JUST—" you notice how he's gesturing frantically, exasperated, annoyed– and out of instinct to provide some sort of comfort (or at least calm him down) your hand grasps his wrist

there's a moment of silence.

his voice dwindles into a more soft, subdued tone, watching as your fingers wrap around his wrist. "wh– if you wanted me to stop talking, you could've just... just said or...."

his mind is going blank, trailing off at your touch. he doesn't remember the last time someone has held his hand or even brushed up against him without freaking out.

"you're cold." you comment, now taking his hand between both of yours, as if you were trying to heat him back up. you don't meet his eyes, simply staring at his hand.

"oh– yeah, yeah, it's just– a thing with now. came with the holes–"

the sensation of your hands gently squeezing his shuts him up. you raise his hand to your lips and gently blow hot air onto it.

your brow furrows, nose scrunching up. "you're still cold..." you mutter, more to yourself than to him. quietly, your gaze returns to his face.

"does that bother you?" you ask him, after a beat of silence.

he shakes his head. your hands let go of his– but he quietly reaches back to hold it again.

"hold on a second. why don't you try again?" he suggests. you laugh softly, knowing it's obviously just an excuse. still, you humor him.

[powderblueblood]

They both give me major switch energy. Like I'm fully with you that some days Lacy needs Eddie to dom it up and throw her around a bit, maybe throw in a little spanking because idk that shit's a big stress reliever for me ngl BUT ALSO

Lacy spanking Eddie?? hoooooboy the thoughts i am thinking right now hehe

i let this sit in my inbox for a couple of days because i absolutely needed to let it percolate because. because. because.

BECAUSE!

please enjoy 1.5k unedited words of spanky edlacy smut.

—

he's been getting on her nerves all day, let's say that much. corroded coffin have managed, by some small miracle, to score an audition for some battle of the bands thing that lacy is refraining to comment on.

it's not that she doesn't think they'll crush. if it's a competition where noise is the driving factor, of course they will. they'll blow everyone's eardrums out of their skulls.

it's that lacy's neutrality is enough to keep eddie so on edge that he'll have to outperform himself, out of sheer spite. this is how this works. she knows where to push and where to soothe.

what she didn't anticipate is just how goddamn annoying he would be in the run-up, anxious tension getting the better of him and making him boisterous in a way she's finding hard to find charming.

he's been a pest at the bookstore all day, but it's when he purposely de-alphabetizes her bestsellers in order to bait her that...

well, that works.

"jesus christ! alright, fuck this, i'm taking my break. you can explain the mess you just made to ivana when she gets back."

lacy grabs her copy of baby driver by jan kerouac and disappears to the back--the mention of ivana puts eddie hot on her heels. that old bitch makes his blood run cold and she knows it.

"wait, baby--"

"get out of here, this is staff only."

"--please, i'm sorry! i was just dickin' around!"

she pivots on him as they cross the threshold of the break room. dinky, dingy, green-tinged light. misery guts bomb shelter basement shit, one of the only places on the planet that lacy feels completely at peace. you get the idea.

"dicking around?" she says, met with his mocking puppy-dog eyed dimpled half frown, the asshole, the fucking asshole.

"lace. come on. no need to pull priss rank on me," and he leans in, but she dodges around him.

"you wanna dick around?"

eddie's head tilts as she reaches around, twisting the lock on the door behind them. there's a lock on the break room door because the fridge in the break room isn't a fridge, it's a safe and-- you know what, let's get into the machinations of the bookstore at another time.

eddie's lips puff out in a little, "whuh--" as lacy steps up on him. her voice, dropping low, for only the two of them to hear.

"dicking around has consequences, you know."

eddie just blinks his big dark eyes at her. amusement tugs at the corners of his mouth in a way she's just dying to wipe off.

"do you hear me?"

"... yeah?"

"what did i say?"

"dickin' around has consequences."

"uh-huh."

he tuts, eyes rolling and arms crossing at her little tough guy act. he hunches himself down to her level, which she haaaates. "jeez, what are you gonna do, lace? punish m--"

smack! the hardcover of her book meets with his clothed thigh and he jumps. eddie's mouth pops open, a chuckle of disbelief filtering through.

"ow."

lacy lets it hang. lets him register the way she's staring up at him, the way she seems to be seizing the air from the room.

something throbs in eddie's brow. something throbs in eddie's belly.

"ow," he repeats, softer, a hairline crack running through his voice.

"that's nothing," lacy says, "you deserve a lot worse."

"i do?" the words come out wanting.

she nods all slow and his heartrate picks up. he swallows hard, about to speak through a throat that's suddenly incredibly parched--

but lacy turns him around, his body limp and malleable in her hands. eddie faces the dinky formica table, not unlike the kitchen table in both of their trailers. familiar. featured in many of his lacy-related fantasies. but none of them like this.

she shoves him square in the center of the spine and eddie folds in half over the tabletop. it shakes on its spindly chrome legs, squeaking against old linoleum.

his palms brace the surface, his hips curl a touch. he breathes out a little, "uh."

uh for unexpected. uh for the way his brain is fizzing into static between his ears already.

"lights, baby?" he hears lacy breathe from behind him. she's got him.

of course. green. yellow. red. even if eddie had scoffed at safe words once upon a time. but lacy, the more experienced of the two of them, had insisted--she wanted transparency. when they tried things.

'no more hiding behind what we think people want from us. right?'

"right," he nods, noticing a tremble in his forearms. a curiosity pulling deep from his abdomen. "... green."

"oh." eddie's breath catches as he feels the flat of one palm curving over his ass. "so now you wanna pretend like you're good, hm?"

smack! eddie jerks as the hardcover of her book makes contact with his rear. a little groan leaving him. his jeans tightening, and not just from the angle.

with two fingers, lacy taps at the base of his spine. the book in her hand still rests against him--does she feel him lean into it?

"green, green-- i'm good," eddie says and expels another breathy hahh! as the book comes down against him again.

"the fuck you are. behaving the way you do."

eddie's face devolves into an open-mouthed grin, near drooling, as he grips onto the table. the only sounds, for a while, are the sharp snaps of her hands or her book against his ass and his high, appreciative groans.

he wants so badly to look over his shoulder, see her standing over him with that hard line circling her irises and her lips pouted from frustration and exertion. but when he tries, she snaps, "no. you haven't earned that yet."

fuck. fuck. fuck, this is good, why is this good? he is such a filthy freak for wanting this, for loving this, for feeling these pangs of pleasure race through him as he tries not to arch his ass in the air for her.

eddie nearly loses it when he feels lacy's knee separate his legs a little more, the firmness of her thigh coming into contact with his taint and balls, trapped in the constraints of his jeans.

she takes her sweet time reaching around and unbuckling him--it's all he can do not to try and buck into her hand, but it seems an untoward move like that would piss her off, make her stop. and she can't stop. he needs her to keep going.

"finally got a hold of yourself?"

not for long. lacy shoves eddie's jeans and underwear down his thighs and he yelps at the sensation of his cock hitting against the cool chrome trim of the table.

"christ, please, lace--" he whimpers, cheek pressing against the tabletop. he can barely tell if it's him manipulating his hips or her; her hands have melded into his skin, groping the plumpish flesh of his ass like she wants to devour it.

eddie has a thought he's never had before, at least not localized in that area.

i want her mouth.

it doesn't disappear completely when her hand makes a mark against his bared skin, but it fizzes out some. once, twice, thrice, each snap stinging more than the last. eddie can feel the singing outline of lacy's palm on his ass cheek and his mouth attempts a laugh--lands somewhere halfway between that and a moan.

"that's more like it. good boy."

because lacy's hitched her leg over his rear now. he can feel the silky scratch of her tights and the heat of her crotch sitting on him. he throbs, listening to her chastened moan as she grinds down against him. lacy's fingers web into his hair and she hauls his neck up. her other hand reaches to ghost along the swell of his balls. his hot, hardened cock in her grip.

a broken sound of pitiful wanting echoes out of eddie's glistening lips, drool catching in the corners.

yet he still manages to gather himself enough to attempt a grin, because he can see her now. flushed. pupils obliterated. speeding off how fucking hot this is.

god, he loves her.

"ambidextrous?" he breathes, canines showing.

lacy's hand slips around to his throat. a little squeeze. "shut up," but the way she says it feels like a kiss.

eddie's face hits the formica again, the only appropriate response to the way she's handling his cock from behind. that yanking thread of desire is pulled so taut in lacy's hands.

"fuck lace, i need y--i need you to fuck me. i need you, i need you, i need y--... hah-uh, jesus christ--..."

her trigger finger rubs his sputtering head.

"you're doing so well for me, though... all pink-cheeked and pretty for me, huh?"

her other hand smooths over the smarting, reddening, tender skin on his ass.

"such a darling boy."

eddie's knees buckle as he cums in long, violent, messy ropes that splatter against the break room linoleum.

lacy holds him up, keeps him steady. pets his hair until he's ready.

"but i can't fuck you 'til you nail that audition," she whispers. "you're late for practice."

[butt3rnugg3t]

Tell Me A Tale

Authors Note: Plz be nice!! First thing I've written and posted in like 4 years, I'm rusty! I fear there's a lot of dialogue. I'm thinking of making this with multiple parts but for now this is it.

OH! And this isn't set in Hawkins. So, this is an AU where Eddie is just a hot tatted dude. Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk. 👍

Word Count 702 (Unedited)

The bell dings, echoing through the small shop on the corner of 5th and Main. Floor to ceiling bookshelves wrap themselves around the store, dust settled in on a few shelves. The door said open, but the vacant counter to the right of the door was unoccupied. Maybe Eddie had read the sign wrong, but he was about 90 percent sure the sign said open.

“Hello?” His voice seemed to echo around the space for a moment before a loud clattering sounded from the back room. 

“Be with you in a moment!” drifted back to him, followed by another series of clashes and finally a few curses. That caused Eddie to smile softly to himself. Another few minutes passed by before he finally saw a pair of legs appear out of the back room, just legs because the rest of her was hidden behind a large stack of books, stacked haphazardly in her arms. “Sorry about making you wait, it's technically my first day working the store by myself and as you can probably tell I've got my work cut out for me."

“I can see, I thought this store had been here for the past 20 or so years though." Thats what Steve had told him when he brought up needing a new copy of 'The Hobbit'.

Eddie grimaced as the store owner tripped on a loose bit of the carpet and almost dropped everything before quickly correcting herself. Taking a deep breath she finally deposited them at the counter before turning to take Eddie in. And Eddie in turn was finally getting all of her as well. She was just as frumpled as he thought she would be, it made him smile.

Denim overalls layered on top of a plain black t-shirt, bright red converse on each foot. Mismatched socks along with her hair looking like it was about to fall out of the messy braid it was forced into. Skin slightly damp from the sticky summer heat that had taken over the city during this hot July afternoon. She looked adorably...tired. Like she had been running on zero sleep and 3 cups of coffee. He felt bad for just realizing it, even though he had just stepped into her store for the first time.

"Yeah, once again, sorry about the mess," She stepped around the counter truly taking the mantel of 'bookseller'. "Um yeah, I just took over from my grandmother." The pause between her words seemed forced, necessary for her to calm down. He felt a stone fall into his stomach, waiting for the next words to fall from her lips. "she's not doing too great recently but," she paused once again, regaining her composure. "Sorry, I'm sure you didn't come in to hear about my life, how can I help you?"

To her credit, Eddie was sure he'd be a blubbering mess if he had to go on and act like everything was fine if (heaven forbid) anything were to happen to Wayne. He certainly wasn't going to hold her small word vomit against her. He also wouldn't mind hearing all about her life if he were to give him the chance.

"All good, I'm actually looking for a copy of 'The Hobbit'," He stepped over to stand across from her, the counter between them. "My last copy is covered in strawberry ice cream" (read: Dustin made a mess)

"Ah, unfortunately were out of our copies. But if you're willing to wait I can order one for you on my next shipment?" Eddie was convinced this girl could talk him into anything. Even if he was in a hurry to own the book again. (He wasn't)

"Yeah, It's absolutely no rush. What do you need for that?" He watched her pull out a receipt pad, jotting down the book title and price in swirly handwritten letters.

"Just a name and good number to contact you at? For when the book comes in," She was quick with the second sentence. But regardless, Eddie was completely content leaving his personal information in her capable hands. And within minutes the book was paid for, and he was set.

All he had to do now was wait for her call.

[darthdaddi]

Saber Play

AnakinxFem!Reader

This idea has been in my head for a while now and I finally gathered the balls to write about it. Please read warnings, if you feel uncomfortable just keep scrolling. Again, I get straight to the point with this fic as well. No plot, just smut.

UNEDITED so I'm sorry if I made mistakes, please ignore them :,)

Warnings: 18+ (MINORS DNI!), dub-con?? , foul language, inappropriate use of a light saber, slight edging, Dom!Anakin, slight age gap (Anakin is 23 and reader is 19), Master Anakin & Padawan reader (no Ahsoka or Padme, sorry m'ladies!) , humiliation, degrading, pet names, squirting, almost public sex?, praises from Anakin, face fucking, riding, spitting, choking, messy fucking, unprotected sex and cream pie.

You've only been Anakin's Padawan for a year now after your original master was killed during the battle of Geonosis. The council deemed that he was ready to take on the task of finishing your training. You've made googly eyes at him since you two were both Padawans. He never paid mind to it though. After all you were 4 years younger, he thought it was an innocent crush. Which it was at the time, but now you're mind is mature. You are reaching the point of adulthood where you're innocent crush is more like intimate crush. Honestly you didn't get much action, yeah you messed around with other's your age but it wasn't the same. You wanted him. You wanted your master so badly and it was truly unbearable. It was completely forbidden to love or be attached to one, but being in love with you're master was on a whole new level.

It was stupidly hot this day and of course Anakin chose an outdoor training day. He loves to watch you complain and argue to try to get you're point across, he immediately shuts you down and banters on about how he is the master and you are just a padawan. He loves his new sense of power, even if he uses it on small things like this. Before you head out to the training platform you decided to wear a cropped tunic that you made yourself along with your normal pants and utility belt. You knew this would piss him off, that's what you always aimed to do. Being a brat is what you strive for, it really gets Anakin going. You loved the way his jaw clenched when he is pissed at you, the way his brows furrowed in anger.

Arriving at the training spot, you see Anakin staring off into the city only to look back at you in anger, "Little one, what in the maker are you wearing? Haven't I told you a thousand times not to tamper with your clothes?" He said obviously annoyed by your rebellion. You crossed your arms and spoke, "Well master, maybe if you hadn't picked the hottest day to train, I wouldn't have to wear such provocative clothes" you said rolling your eyes, knowing that's what his lecture was about. Anakin sighed and walked closer to you, "Y'know, you've been a real fucking brat lately. Not to mention those lustful thoughts of yours. Do you really think you deserve my sex?" He hissed. Taken aback, you could only open your mouth to speak. Yet know words came out. "Is this your attempt to seduce your master? Wearing such a shirt" he said tugging on the bottom of your barely-there under tunic. "Pathetic, your tits almost hang out of this thing. You look like a slut" he growled. One thing Anakin was good at was humiliating you. He made you feel so insignificant at times, it was actually kind of hot. You're core began to dampen as more degrading words flowed from his mouth. "Now look at you, all turned on and flustered over my cruel words. I can sense you Y/n, you can't even mentally shield yourself from me, so weak and horny for me" he chuckled, his curls began to stick to his forehead due to the heat. He inched closer, making you feel small under his gaze. "Ani, I'm sorry. I really did not intend to-" he cut you off, "You didn't intend to what? Cause me to have this aching boner? Gods I can't stand you right now" he said through his teeth. Anakin released his saber from his belt and glared into your eyes, "And that's master to you, slut" his words stung this time, did he only see you as his Padawan now? Anakin ignited his light saber in front of you.

"Strip" he said bluntly. You scurried to take off you're clothes, even though Anakin would never hurt you. He eyes you up and down, taking in all of your features. Anakin smirked as you look at him, so helpless and under his complete control. He turned his saber off and looked into your eyes, "Like I said before, I don't think you deserve my dick" with that, he ran the cold metal of the saber's hilt down your lower stomach and to your swollen cunt. He rubbed the smooth side of the hilt on your clit, staring into you as he did so. You felt so embarrassed that you closed your eyes, yet you couldn't stop the sweet groans from escaping your throat. Anakin laughed at you and pouted  mimicking your state, "Are you really going to get off to my light saber right now? You truly are pathetic" he scoffed. Anakin immediately stopped and reignited his saber, so close to your navel that you could feel the heat off of it. You were sweating, not only from nervousness, but also from the Coruscant heat. Anakin ran his weapon up and down, close to your skin. This started to excite you, the thrill of your master having so much control over you had your adrenaline pumping. "Be a good girl for me little one, and get on your knees" he said extinguishing his saber once more. You did what was asked of you and dropped to your knees. Anakin pulled down his pants just enough for his dick to show, it sprung out tall and hard as it hit his clothed abdomen. You looked at him with big doe eyes. "Don't act innocent Y/n, I know that you aren't a virgin. You sneak around other's quarters all the time" he said rolling his eyes. Looking at him in shock you said, "That may be true, but honestly I'm not very experienced" you embarrassingly admitted. He chuckled and patted your head, "You'll do just fine. Now open that pretty mouth of yours" Anakin cooed at he held the back of your head, guiding you to his glorious cock. You maintained eye contact with him and took the head of his length in your mouth, suckling on it softly. 'fucks' and groans poured out of his mouth as he pushed your head further down on him, helping you bob it. You placed your hands on his thighs for support as he started thrusting his hips into your face, his finely groomed hairs prickling at your nose. Anakin threw his head back at the sight of his very own padawan getting her face absolutely fucked, "Thats right pretty girl, earn that fucking cock" he grunted out, speeding up his pace. You wouldn't help but gag at his quick thrusts, it was almost too hard to breathe from his impressive girth. You squeezed your eyes shut as you felt him twitch in your mouth. Anakin quickly pulled out of your mouth, "Open up for your master darling~" he cooed at you. You did so, just for him to spit in your mouth and shove your face back into his hips, "Fuck, I'm going to make you mine, pretty little thing" he growled at you, quickening his speed. All you could do was mumble around his suffocating dick. Anakin started getting sloppy with his thrusts as his hot cum filled the back of your throat. You didn't dare spit out what he gave you, instead you swallowed it proudly.

A voice from the hall began echoing towards the two of you. "Let's move this to my quarters hm?" He said in an almost panicked voice. Without thinking Anakin pulled his pants up and took of his cloak off, putting it on you quickly. You picked up your discarded clothes and stuffed them into your arm underneath the sleeve of Anakin's massive cloak. He helped you slip your shoes on as you desperately wrapped the excess cloth around your body. The door swiped open to reveal a confused Obi-Wan, "How was the training- Y/n why do you have Anakin's cloak on?" He questioned with a raised eyebrow. "We were practicing dueling and I got a little carried away... My shirt ripped and I left my cloak in my quarters" you lied straight through your teeth, a bad lie at that. "Oh dear, that is embarrassing young one. Good thing your master is so generous to cover you up hm?" Obi-Wan said with smirk as he looked at Anakin, as he has an idea of what really happened. "Yes well we should get going master, wouldn't want her standing here like this any longer" Anakin said with a fake smile. "Very well, the two of you better rest up. You look exhausted" Obi-Wan said chuckling. Anakin mumbled under his breath as the two of you headed for Anakin's quarters, which wasn't far from yours, "Fuck, he definitely knows something" he said with shut eyes and a sigh. Anakin swiped his room door open, locking it behind him. Though his demeanor changed as he got a better look at you with his cloak on. He was smirking at you, "Y'know, you look so damn adorable with my robes on, so tiny compared to me" he said looking at how his clothing drags to the floor more than usual on you rather than him. "Really?" You said with a smile, giving him a turn. "Really, though I'd love to see you without it on" Anakin stated as he helped you undress completely again. This time he was being sweet, pulling you by the waist to meet his gaze. Anakin placed ticklish kisses on your neck while holding you by the hips. "Anakin undress with me" you flirtatiously said. "I thought I told you it was master, or daddy if you prefer. I think I love the idea of you calling me daddy" he said with a smirk. "Daddy it is" you replied back with confidence. Anakin smiled at you as he pulled away, "Maybe if you ask nicely I'll reveal myself to you, darling" he whispered in your ear this time. This sent chills down you, forming goosebumps at the scandalous words your master had uttered. "Will you please undress for me master?" You said in a tiny voice that was almost too quiet to hear, but Anakin gave in to your cuteness and began stripping down until he was fully naked along with you. The two of you took a moment to embrace the moment, touching each other's naked bodies like it your first times again.

Anakin picked you up by the under of your thighs and back up to his bed, sitting you on his lap as he initiated a heated make out session. He grabbed and played with your ass which was almost enough to make you orgasm, as the slightest touch from him was enough to take you over the edge. You began to grind your hips into his thighs, feeling his hard cock slip in between your folds in the most delicious way. Anakin felt the same way you did as he used your ass as leverage to further grind your hips, the two of you rocked back and forth patheticly, looking into each others eyes and enjoying the moment. Grunts and groans poured lewdly out of your mouths as you sped up your action. Although before you reached your high, Anakin tossed you onto the bed and wasted no time touching your prescious parts, rolling and rubbing your clit between his skilled fingers. "So fucking wet for me little one, so damn good for me" Anakin whined as he proceded to work down your slick, spitting on your pussy. Your masters middle finger entered your hole that was aching for him so badly. You squirmed at his cold touch. His strong gloved hand held your hip to keep you in place as he introduced another finger, immediately pushing on your plush spot. You were thrown into shock by the feeling. Others had fingered you before, but not like Anakin. He was so skilled with his fingers that it made you wonder how many girls he's slept with. "Hey! Why are you worrying about my sex life? It's just me and you in this moment baby, nobody else" he said almost offended by your wondering thoughts. You blushed at his words that made you feel so special. Anakin only cared for you in this moment, something you have always longed for. He snapped you out of your thoughts as he sped up his pumps, applying more pressure to your g-spot. You bit your lip at the familiar feelings, you were about to squirt. You have only done it one other time while fucking yourself stupid to the thought if Anakin, but this time it was him who was about to make you spew. "Thats right sweetheart, let it all out for me" he said keeping his tempo. With that you threw your head back in bliss and let out a broken moan as the build up of your fluids were finally released. Anakin loved this. He loved seeing you so messy for him. He rubbed your clit quickly, sending you into your first euphoric high. Your face twisted in an ugly orgasmic way that he found so hot. "Atta girl!" Anakin chanted at you finished your orgasm, "That is such a good girl" he cooed. Anakin plopped down on the bed, pulling you on top of him. "Now Y/n, be a big girl for me and ride my cock" he smirked at you. "But daddy-" you attempted to speak but your master cut you off. "Princess you want me so bad and you know it. Go on and take what you want so badly" he said stroking your hair sweetly.

You crawled up to his length and aligned it with your dripping parts, sinking onto his thick girth. Anakin groaned as your walls clenched around him, taking in every inch. You slowly rocked your hips back and forth on him, you propped your body against his thighs to give him a better look at your pussy engulfing his dick. Anakin groaned and circled your swollen and sensitive clit with his thumb, encouraging you to grind with his finger's pace. You sped up to match him as the both of you watched as his cock slid in and out if you. "Fuck you look so good around me. Such a slut for this dick" Anakin groaned, pulling you down towards his face to kiss you. You smiled into the kiss, loving the dirty name he deemed as yours. Breaking off this kiss, you attached your lips to his neck, licking the salty residue from the sweat earlier. Anakin had no shame in letting out a few moans as he held your hips up to thrust into your cunt harshly. He wanted to ruin you, make you cum repeatedly for him. Your kisses and licks didn't last long as your mouth hung open, letting out whiney moans in his ear. Your legs began to feel like jelly as he penetrated your poor hole. "Don't stop daddy, oh gods please don't stop" you bellowed out, loud enough for the whole of  Coruscant to hear. The sounds of skin slapping and moans melodically traveled through the room. You bit down on his neck in an attempt to muffle out your moans. Anakin winced at the sharp pain and flipped you over, taking complete control of you. He summoned his light saber from his belt and ignited it like he did earlier, holding so close to your throat you could feel the heat from the weapon. This excited you immensely, feelings so helpless once again. Anakin continued to fuck you hard and fast with the light saber still to your throat, "Don't bite me whore, you aren't mine yet" Anakin hissed at you through his teeth, holding onto your hip with his free hand to control your body. He sped up his movement go an ungodly pace, completely ruining your cunt. You squirmed and whined at the way he fucked you, that's really all you could do. You where speeches. "Im going to cum in that messy hole of yours and make you mine, just as I promised" he growled at you, extinguishing his light saber and tossing it to the side. Anakin then pinned your small hands above your head and used his free hand to choke you. You saw stars, no, fireworks. You were reaching a complete euphoric orgasm like you never felt before, your walls started contracting around Anakin cock which threw him over the edge too. He moved the hand on your throat to your wrists and he buried his face into your neck, releasing his hot load into your cunt with no mercy, "You're mine now little one, all mine" he rasped into your ear.

Here it is! I hope you enjoy this content as it's a little different than I usually write.

[moljh]

Showers and Chamomile

Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Movie night with your boyfriend Eddie and you only get more proof at how dorky and perfect he is. Pure fluff Unedited - idea I quickly threw together

Eddie liked to think he was all tough and dark. Whilst most of the town agreed with this persona, you were privy to a very different one.

Your Eddie liked a hot water bottle on cold nights, preferred tea over coffee once the sun went down so he didn't get too 'wired' and although vehemently denied it, loved a good romcom. Hence why on a Saturday night when Eddie claimed that he could be 'getting high and listening to good music at a bar with the guys', he was in fact at home watching Grease with you.

"I just don't get it," Eddie said

"What don't you get now?" you replied, chuckling slightly at the end of your question

"Well Sandy is trying to do all these things for Danny and he doesn't even seem all that great" he pointed out, waving a hand at the television

"I dunno..." you trailed off "he's pretty cute"

"Um excuse me?!" Eddie exclaimed with a look of horror and humour as he clutched his hand to his heart "I thought you only had eyes for me?"

"Sorry baby but think John Travolta might beat you out of top spot" you said sticking your tongue out at him "Though I do admit, you have better hair"

A smug grin spread across Eddie's face "Thank you" he said proudly

The two of you lay there and watched the rest of the movie. Another thing you loved about your boyfriend was when he was truly engrossed in something, concentrating so hard on what was in front of him, he stuck his tongue out of the side of his mouth. Just ever so slightly, but it always made you giggle. That's how you knew not to distract him because his tongue would be poking out of his lips.

During the musical scenes you always laughed as Eddie would roll his eyes as they started singing and then would end up tapping his fingers to the beat. You honestly weren't sure if he noticed what he was doing and this was usually the case in most musical movies you watched. You liked them, you couldn't deny that, but you especially liked when Eddie would start tapping his fingers against your leg.

You never said anything in case he became aware of it and stopped. So you would just sit there and nestle yourself closer into his chest and lighten your grip on him.

"Ok I have to admit the ending was a bit strange" you confessed as you got up from the couch

"See, I told you" Eddie replied, rolling his eyes

"They should have just ended it with the song, I don't get the need for the flying car" you continued talking as Eddie began cleaning up

The two of you pottered around for a moment, cleaning up the mess you both had made during the course of the evening.

"At least I know you definitely have a type" Eddie said as he packed up the empty popcorn bowls from the coffee table

"What?" you asked, confused by his words

"A type, at least I don't have to be worried about that"

"What are you on about?" you laughed

"Danny Zuko and I are like the exact same"

You shot Eddie a smirk as he kept talking "C'mon, we both wear leather, like working on cars, don't get along with the popular crowd. We're practically twins"

"Really? Twins?"

"Oh yeah..." Eddie smiled, placing the bowls in the sink and walked up to you "and we also both landed someone who is super gorgeous and completely out of our league"

Slipping his arms around your waist, Eddie pulled you in close.

"Ok..." you said "you redeemed yourself with that last thing"

"Good, I'm glad you noticed that" Eddie smiled

"I have to say, I think between me and Sandy, I got the better deal" you said, leaning into Eddie and pulling him into a gentle kiss

The two of you stood there in each others embrace for what felt like ages until you had to come back up for air.

"Well I'm going to go have a shower" you said, giving him one last peck and slowly making your way to the bathroom

"I'm going to make some tea" Eddie informed you, "really craving some chamomile"

"Do you want to have a shower too?" You paused, slowly pulling your shirt off seductively  

"No, no," Eddie replied, too focussed on finding his favourite mug to realise what you were doing "I'll have one later"

Making an obnoxious coughing noise in an attempt to get his attention, you rolled your eyes at your boyfriends complete obliviousness.

"I meant, don't you want to have a shower with me?" you said and watched as his eyes widened and he dropped the box of tea bags from his hands

He finally looked at you and nodded "Yes, yes, I would like that very much" he said, frantically kicking off his shoes and desperately undoing his belt

Turning around you walked into the shower and heard a big thud behind you.

"I'm fine" Eddie shouted from the other room

You laughed as you turned on the water because you knew he had fallen over in his desperate attempt to get to you as quickly as possible "Dork" you muttered to yourself

"What was that?" Eddie asked

"Nothing" you quickly replied and jumped in the shower. 

As the warm water ran over you, you couldn’t help but wonder how you got so lucky.

[kissami]

☄︎. *. ⋆ SNOWFLAKE KISS •°. *࿐

➵ In which a certain wizard has a little too much fun with the snow and disturbs his lover’s quiet time.

warnings: none just pure fluff 𓆩❤︎𓆪

unedited !!!

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

young - vacations

0:20 ─〇───── 3:09

⇄   ◃◃   ⅠⅠ   ▹▹   ↻

VOLUME: ▁▂▃▄▅▆▇ 100%

𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌: 𝟧𝟦𝟥

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

Finally, winter was here and Howl couldn't be more excited.

He loved the cold winter nights, the endless snow flakes that would float around in the sky until finally, they landed somewhere that soon would be covered whole in a matter of hours.

He was exceptionally more excited knowing he'd spend the snowy day with his love, [Y/N].

“Now Markl, please make sure you wipe your shoes once we finally go inside. You know how upset Calcifer becomes when we leave a mess of wet foot prints around."

Markl listened of course, but he still managed to get the whole floor covered in water, making Calcifer almost burning himself out of flames, seeing no point in moving forward in his life when no one seemed to listen to a simple instruction.

Howl laughed of course at his dear heart and looked towards his lover's window, coming up with a brilliant idea.

Howl, being the romantic person he was, grabbed a few snowballs and chucked them towards the window, wanting his princess' attention.

Only his brilliant idea, wasn't so brilliant.

He gasped in surprise when she popped her head out, having snow all over her hair and clothes.

He bursted out laughing, feeling his tummy begin to ache at how adorable she looked at that moment.

"Howl are you serious?? I just took a bath!"

"Well now you have taken another well needed one, darling! Besides, why'd you have the window open in the middle of a snow storm?"

He continued to tease, only receiving a glare and jumping back from the loud bang from the window as she closed her window shut.

"Oh man, she seemed pretty upset! She was saying earlier how she didn't want any funny business as she was painting something important..."

Both Howl and Markl slapped their foreheads in realization that they did promise to not be annoying today, which they obviously had broken that promise.

Howl quickly walked into the castle, ignoring Calcifer's whining that Howl was wearing his dirty shoes on the carpet.

"Darling? Open up please." Howl begged as he continued to knock on their shared bedroom door, twisting and turning the locked door handle.

Silence. That was all he got as an answer.

Of course he could've used magic to open the door easily, but he did NOT want to make her even more mad then she already was.

"My love, I'm sorry. I completely forgot about the promise, it completely slipped my mind. All I wanted was to tease you. I had no idea the window was open..."

"So you're saying that our promise meant nothing to you and that I'm easily forgotten?"

Howl's mouth open in shock, no words being able to muster out of him.

He stepped back a bit when the door opened, his mouth closing in a smile when he saw his beautiful girlfriend's smile.

"I'm only teasing, love. And I know, you were just wanting some fun. But you did promise me to calm down a bit hm?"

Howl ignored her pouting face and grabbed her, stuffing his face between her neck and taking a deep inhale of her scent.

"I'm sorry, my love. Please forgive me?"

[Y/N] laughed a bit and nodded her head, putting her hand on his head while soothing his hair down as it was everywhere.

"How about we force Calcifer to make us some hot tea while we watch the moon glisten as the snow falls hm?"

[robin374]

Mayhaps a part 2 to that oneshot?? 👀

If you don't mind-?

RED Medic x Reader x BLU Medic (Part 2)

I don't mind at all, don't worry! I hope you like it!

Warnings: Mentions of blood.

(Unedited)

------------------------------------------------

"Come on, come on... Where the hell is it?" the blood pouring down your arm didn't let you think, and the pain that the huge cut emitted even less. You blamed yourself for not even thinking that BLU Spy would be hiding in that room. You could still feel the cold metal of his butterfly knife cutting open your skin and his fist slamming into your face. Although there was one thing you couldn't blame yourself for and that was the quick reaction you had as soon as you felt the knife cutting into your skin, you were sure that BLU Spy wouldn't forget the terrifying gleam in your eyes when you shot him in the head. You turned the corner of a concrete building, you already knew the way to the nearest Medikit. You quickened your pace at the thought of Scout stealing it from you, but, suddenly, your vision went completely black and you felt your whole body collapse against something, or rather, someone. 

"Oops- I'm sorry, dear. I didn't see you coming" That German accent was one you would never forget, especially coming from the enemy's side. You stepped away from Fritz's chest, surprised that he didn't fall from the impact. "Long time no see, how have you been doing in life?" He said as he wrapped his strong arm around your waist, "Fritz, we saw each other yesterday." You brought your undamaged arm around his neck, forgetting all about the war between RED and BLU, sinking into his vivid blue eyes. It seemed like it was just you and him at that moment, no one else to bother, no Spy, no Pyro... Just him and you. You thought he felt the same way too when he began to lean towards you, your lips almost brushing. 

A war cry pulled you out of your fantasy world, your lips left wanting to feel the warmth of his. And you were left wanting to feel the warmth of his body when he suddenly broke away. "Sorry to interrupt you," there stood Josef, facing you with his bone saw in his hand; "but I think you picked the wrong person, Fritz." He slowly approached you and separated you further from Fritz. Josef's distant, terrifying stare against Fritz's sweet and ironically innocent one, the two of them looked at each other like two cats fighting over their food. You frowned as you began to realize what was happening. "You don't know who you're messing with," Fritz's sweet voice replaced the silence in the room. "With Mary Poppins, maybe?" 

Before Fritz could reply anything, you sighed in annoyance. Both men were acting like little boys fighting over their toy, they wanted the same thing and wouldn't let share. "Guys, if you're going to fight over me, do it somewhere else. I didn't come here to watch two men mature for their age fight like children over one person." Fritz was the first to abandon the staring war between him and Josef to divert his gaze to you, and as if it were a competition, Josef walked over to you and grabbed your hands. 

"Since I see you are unwilling to speak civilly, I will do the talking." You broke away from Josef's grip and stepped back far enough to see the two of them. "If you want to be in a relationship with me, the first thing will be for you to get along," they both looked at each other. "So no fighting. If I see the slightest look of hatred, there will be punishments; and not the kind you're thinking of." You raised your gun so that it was clear to them that you weren't talking with a second sense, both of them flinched like a pair of puppies being scolded. Then Josef looked at you in confusion. "Wait a minute, how did you know that we-" "Please, the whole RED Team knows, even Soldier." 

Josef put a hand to his face muttering something about Soldier, you let out a giggle. You walked up to him, pulled his hand away from your face and gave him a sweet kiss on the lips. He rested both hands on your cheeks and deepened the kiss until you were out of breath. 

"Hey! I want some too!"

[shutterlens]

I found this article by the Madness Network News that I've learned from and think would be informative to you all!

[cw: discussion of systemic violence, sanism, potentially distressing content] To preface this, I've linked the article here: https://madnessnetworknews.com/2022/07/26/anti-psychiatry-vs-psychiatric-abolition/ This article that I found on critiquing the complacency found in anti-psychiatry taught me what psych abolition really was and also helped me realize what I truly meant when I said that I was against the corrupt systemic discrimination of the Capitalist Psychiatric Industry. As the article states, "All forms of psychiatric abolition are anti-psychiatry, but not all anti-psychiatry is abolitionist. Psychiatric abolition is about the destruction of the violent structures that provide all psychiatrists, including ‘anti-psychiatrists’ with a livelihood. Psychiatric abolition is mad people rising up from the fringes of society, forging a path to freedom and creating a world so full of care, joy, compassion and insanity that we could never conceive of psychiatry — or psychiatrists — existing. Resistance against psychiatry will always be strongest in the hands of psychiatric survivors." (Róisín) This, along with many other topics that the article discussed, was what helped me learn more and better realize that what I truly supported was not the "reformist movement from within the system, fronted by people who cannot live with the guilt of locking us up, but are still perfectly happy to dismiss" (Róisín) the voices of some of the most disenfranchised and vulnerable groups of people that I've learned that the word "anti-psychiatry" truly encompassed, but rather, the complete abolishment of this corrupt and discriminatory system, like many others that I am staunchly opposed to, such as Capitalism, systemic police violence, and the likes. I've decided to share this with you all so I can give you all the gift of knowledge just as I had been given, and, through the sword of knowledge, do what I can to help better both the world and its people. [update: I'm sorry for messing up some of the words in the original post, it was like 2 in the morning when I posted the original unedited version of this.]

[simarcana]

any advices for impostor syndrome while having active simblr? my head is a mess right now… i don’t care about the notes but my content… like should i post pics that i love, unedited, without any story behind, with sims i love or it’s better to care about that more? about quality, background, scene?

i’d love to post endless pics of my fav sim but idk

i sound ridiculous but honestly ur last post about simblr makes me so motivated but now i’m struggling…

sorry for negative emotions but i’m here everyday and i enjoy ur content so much and when i see ur post on dash it’s always so pretty and well done

❤️❤️❤️❤️

Howdy nonny! I'm sorry you're not feeling well. I wish I could say "I know what is like" but everyone experiences things differently so I'm just sending a big virtual hug! Speaking of your matter, I think you should post what you want when you want. It doesn't matter if it's a completely unedited pic or an intricate blender edit (how people use it for rendering is a mystery to me).

Especially here on simblr!! Were underdogs wehehe. Try not to worry about it too much and concentrate on what you have fun doing and posting, or what brings you joy. I mean sometimes I see some mutuals being like "The horrors I saw in Blender" but I know they're like a pastry chef making a pavlova.

I hope it helps a little, I'm terrible at giving advice 🥲 And In really glad you enjoy my silly content 💕💕