#this is only a minor obsession nothing to be concerned about

[starfall-spirit]

Read on Ao3

Summary: With new love and broken trust to navigate, the tension between Xaden and Violet is at an all-time high after the battle beyond the Athebyne outpost. Two months after swearing Xaden off romantically, Violet finds he has her pinned to the mat again. And he has no intention of showing mercy.

AN: As promised, here's my first Fourth Wing fic.

CW: Smut, language

Violet grunted as her back met the gym mat for the third time in thirty minutes. "Damn." She wasn't so sure everything that she just heard pop was actually supposed to pop. "You know, I get thrown around enough during my daily training as it is. I don't need you beating me to a pulp after hours."

"Pull yourself together, Violence. If I realized just how sloppy you had gotten I never would have neglected this part of your training."

Negligence may not be the most accurate description of their current problem. The truth was that she had been brilliantly evading him since she had started picking up the tells her own dragon gave when he sensed his mate and her rider were near. Violet had seen Xaden face-to-face only a handful of times since his graduation and this was the first time in the two months since the wyvern attack she had let him close enough to spar. She thought it had been long enough—that her mind was set enough on the logical path that her leniency tonight wouldn't do any harm. She desperately needed to get her brain and her body on the same page when it came to Xaden Riorson. Because Violet Sorrengail never made the same mistake twice. She was not ending tonight by dragging Xaden to her private room.

And she was definitely not fucking him on the gym floor. Or any floor for that matter.

Eyeing her scattered daggers—the short blades he'd personally commissioned for her and had her take straight off his vest when he was still her supposed enemy—she shoved at his chest for the third time that night with every intention of starting again. He didn't budge. "Tell me what to do, Violet," he groaned. "You've been treating me like a damn plague every time I come back to the college with Sgaeyl."

"You said you'd give me the space I need, Xaden. Don't tell me you're already back to lying to me."

"I never—" He growled, his arms buckling on either side of her hips. "Fuck."

The steady tension of the night began to build far too rapidly for her comfort as need coiled within her. She tried to Ground herself. Tried to reach that door that would seal off the waves of Tairn's shameless arousal. But with Xaden practically trembling between her thighs she knew the night wouldn't be easy on either of them. If they tried to resist that urge rippling down the bond. They needed to separate now, or what Xaden was asking for she'd be all too willing to hand over. She hadn't tested his vow in those two months because she was terrified he would make a fool of her. But the logical part of her recognized he wouldn't hurt her again. It was a fear of her wounded heart. Hadn't he been the one to tell her that fear would only get her killed faster?

Her resistance shattered and she pressed a hand to his bare chest. "Xa—"

"Thank the gods." His mouth claimed hers in a brutal kiss as his shadows skittered out to clear the last of the unsheathed daggers off of the mat as he gripped her wrists, pinning them together under one hand and effectively immobilizing her upper body. "Thank the fucking gods and dragons too selfish to shield."

"You're welcome, Silver One." She stiffened, thinking back to how long it had been since she felt Tairn so prominently. "I can not fully protect you and see to my mate if you are at odds with her human."

This was a fucking setup. One Xaden was equally aware of if his smirk was anything to go by. "Meddlesome mother hens."

"Indeed they are." He hunched over her once again, his smirk somehow broadening as he used his free hand to lift the hem of her shirt, guiding it up to her bust as he trailed the path of his hand with those sinful lips. "So fucking beautiful," he praised her. Violet whined, giving a half-hearted attempt to free her wrists before he tightened his grip. "Just let me give you this, Violet. While we still have the chance." Before this war came to such a height where they'd never catch a moment alone. She nodded, aching for the familiar heat of his mouth on her skin. It had been a hard two months. Dipping his head, he trailed his lips from the top of her neck down to her collarbone. His hips shifted to pin hers as she tried to lift them to grind against him. It was fucking torture, feeling his hard body against hers and being able to do absolutely nothing about it. "Patience, Violet."

She glared at him, reading the slight taunt beneath his own need. He released her hands to peel her out of her top, chuckling when her free hands moved straight to his hair, dragging his mouth back to hers as he moved on to the buttons on her pants.

She followed that mental stream of night that she hadn't touched in months, likely broadcasting every emotion running through her at the moment. "I'm going to take my sweet time with you tonight, Violence. I'm gonna have you begging for me by the end of it all."

Fuck. "I don't beg," she retorted.

He pulled away from the kiss, giving her a wolfish grin as he peeled her pants down her legs to expose her damp panties. "We'll see about that." With that final piece of clothing gone, his attention returned to keeping her from gaining an edge, his shadows gathering to pin her arms again, leaving both of his hands free to touch her. She didn't bother fighting them. "Good girl."

She bit her lip, trying not to show what those two little words did to her. She honestly wasn't ready to identify it. The next time their eyes met she knew it was pointless. He could always read her too well. Still, he spared her the embarrassment of saying anything about it, instead reaching between them to stroke his thumb over her clit, two fingers dipping between her legs. "Fucking soaked," he growled out loud, shifting back until his head was between her thighs, those soft lips trailing up each leg as he positioned them over his shoulders. He was going to ruin her with nothing more than a stroke of his tongue. How the hell was she supposed to think of anything but this the next time she was training with another Rider on the mats.

Two fingers curled inside her and she gasped, the muscles in her legs tight enough to snap as Xaden hit that spot he knew made her see stars. And as that smirking mouth closed over her clit... despite what little time they had before everything fell apart, Xaden hadn't forgotten a single thing about how to please her. "Xaden, more." 

He kept his pace, his mouth still pressed flush against her as he returned his attention to the mental bond. "Are you asking or telling me? Because you're in no position to be giving orders, Violence."  He was moving unbearably slowly now, maintaining her need for him, but failing to bring her closer to orgasm. The bastard planned to edge her.

"This is my punishment?" she panted out. "This is what I get for avoiding you? Pinned down and edged until you get bored of the game?"

He raised his head to look at her, his gaze drowsy with his own lust as he met her eyes. "Violence, don't you know? This is a game I'll never grow bored of. Seeing you squirm is far too delightful and we both know you can't hold out for long."

He returned to his task, each stroke clearly at his leisure. "Now be my good girl and ask nicely for what you want."

There was the line in the sand. Xaden Riorson was a patient man, more than willing to take his sweet time with her tonight. He delighted in the game he created and didn't find any difficulty in a slow indulgence. She was the only one suffering tonight. 

Unless she folded.

Begged.

She twisted her wrists against his shadows, jolting the next time he brought her to the edge of release. "Xaden, please." 

He broke away and she whimpered. "Please what?"

"Please let me come." 

Satisfaction rippled down the bond between them and her body went white-hot with mounting pleasure. She clenched her jaw to keep from screaming as she finally fell over the edge, rolling her hips as best she could with her legs still slung over Xaden's broad shoulders. "So. Fucking. Beautiful," he murmured, silently ordering the shadows holding her to release. She could taste herself on him as he swept her into another feverish kiss, his fingers unwinding her braid and fisting in the silver and black of her hair. "I'll never get enough of you, Violet." He pulled away just long enough to ease out of his own leathers before seeking her mouth again. Knowing he'd be off balance for a few seconds, she took advantage of the time she had to get him on his back. "Vi—" Her name faded to a soft curse as she stroked the hard length of him. "Dirty tricks, Violence."

"Well-earned on your part, I'd say. You had your fun," she purred, sinking down on his cock inch by inch. Gods, she had missed that feeling. "Now it's my turn."

One hand anchoring at her right hip, he raised his other to her breast, rolling her nipple between his fingers. "You want to ride me, sweetheart? Go right ahead. One way or another I still get to watch as you shatter on my cock." The words sent a shudder through her and he grinned as her nails bit into his shoulders. His hand fell away from her breast, his fingers rethreading in her hair and tugging just enough to sting her scalp. "Go on, baby. Ride me."

~~~~~

His few memories of watching Violet come for him didn't do the actual sight of it justice. No memory could hold the exact expression on her face as she reached the edge of her climax or the little sounds that left her when she realized she needed help getting there. No memory could quite hold the arch of her body or the scent of her skin as she pressed up against him. And no memory could quite hold this moment. His Violet, half-asleep on his chest as they both came down from the rush of what they'd done.

"I'm never going to be able to go to my hand-to-hand training again without thinking of this. You're a terrible influence, Xaden Riorson." 

He chuckled. "I suppose a gentleman would have taken you to a bed first. But I never claimed to be such a thing. At least this way you'll remember who you belong to when your squadmates start ogling you during training."

"I'm not an object," she growled, sounding about as violent as a kitten as exhaustion continued to weigh on her.

"No. But you're still mine. Just as I'm yours, whenever you're ready to claim me again."

The fog of lust that triggered this all was behind them. And in its place was an understanding. He had hurt her, but he would never make that mistake twice. This could be the time they start fresh, but only if she was ready. "Well, Violet?"

"I'm ready, Xaden."

[cheriladycl01]

Kinktober 07/10/2024 Lando Norris - Hand Kink

Plot: Just like every other girlie, you have an obsession with your boyfriends hands …

Warnings: Kinktober, SMUT, choking, fingering, hand kink, p in v etc 18+ Minors DNI

You didn’t actually realise it was something you were so obsessed with to the point it was considered a kink until you met Lando.

You never found particular interest in your partners hands apart from Landos and it wasn’t even you who pointed it out.

He did.

It started with just you playing with his fingers when you were stood close enough to be holding his large hand in your two smaller ones. You’d just play with them and Lando never thought anything off it, he just assumed it was an anxious habit of yours.

But then, whenever his hand was in your thigh, in the car or when you were sat in the garage you’d always shift almost as if you were uncomfortable but the look on your face always told him a different story.

He could only describe that look as enamoured. You’d just stare at his hand before tracing the prominent veins that travelled up into his arms.

And then, after a while if you both getting comfortable during intimacy he always saw you had a different reaction to everything he did when he used his hands. A normal thrust when his hands on either side of you in the pillow got a lovely moan, but when his hands clamped down on your boobs or were in your mouth if he was trying to muffle your sounds when he thrusted in had your gasping, moaning, swearing and calling his name.

The last time was a time where you’d been apart for a while and you were both extremely turned on and horny for each other and you were so in the moment that you hadn’t even realised you’d asked him to have his hand around your neck.

And he needed to outright ask you about it, not because it was a concern or a turn off for him. It actually really turned him on, but he just wanted to know where it came from.

“Baby, can we talk?” He’d asked you as he came and sat down in the sofa while you were prepping for dinner in the kitchen.

“Yeah sure what’s up Lan” you say sweetly still concentrating on cutting up some veggies.

“Come sit with me for a minute” he says patting the seat on the sofa next to him.

“Oh, oh shit this is serious. What did I do?” You ask worriedly racking your brain for if you’d missed a pile of laundry or not washed a cup and left it on the bedside table.

“It’s nothing to worry about, just wanna talk to you” he smiles and you sit next to him. Immediately you cuddle into him and grab his hands as you look up at him.

“So, this is about our sex life. I’ve just noticed some things and I think … I think you might have a kink. And I was just wondering if you hadn’t told me, because you were embarrassed or, if you I don’t know but I just wanted to ask” he admits and you look shocked at him.

“What?” You laugh looking over at him, and now Lando’s cheeks go bright red.

“Baby I’m trying to be serious” he says looking at you.

“I - i don’t know what you mean I promise” you laugh and snuggle into him.

“I think you have a hand kink” he blurts out and you freeze.

“You what?” You ask looking at him with a confused expression.

“A hand kink. I think you have one because you are obsessed with my hands. Every time your touching them, or using them. And I don’t mind, i fucking love it actually but I just wanna know where it came from?” He asks and you think for a minute in complete silence.

“I never really considered it to be something that took my interest but now that you’ve brought it up… I think i do. I love seeing your hands all over me, and your hands are just pretty sexy in general” you smile and he looks down with a shy blush, something uncommon for your normally pretty cocky boyfriend.

“Yeah? You like my hands baby” he says sliding one up you thigh, your breath catching in your throat, as your eyes glaze over with lust.

“Lan- what are” you pause to moan as his hand dips into your underwear his fingers starting to rub circles on your clit.

“What my hands baby, you like how they make you feel?” He asks, only to look up and see your gaze already looking at his hand and fingers close to your sensitive region.

Without hesitation he’s dipping his fingers in, obscene wet sounds coming from in between your legs as you try to clamp them together. However his other hand comes to your knee to stop that movement and keep your legs open and your pussy in his line of sight as his fingers sped up.

“Argh baby fuck” you moan as your legs start to shake. You look over him and back down at his hands. The veins looked more prominent from this angle and a sigh of relief came from your lips as your toes curled into the carpet and your grabbed the edge of the sofa as your teeth sunk into your lip. His hand was covered in your juices where you’d just squirted, and you looked down in shock. You don’t think you’d ever squirted before … and Lando just made you do that.

“Did I just?” You ask looking at his wet hand.

“Squirt? I think you did. That was hot! I wanna try again” he grins and before you know it he’s got you on your hands and knees on the sofa, pillow under you as his hands run up and down your faces away body.

He plays with your nipples and massages your boobs just the way that has you pushing back into his clothed dick that you can already feel is hard under his sweatpants.

“Calm down baby” he laughs, he runs and finger down your spine, a sensation you didn’t think would turn you in as much as it did, but you were practically shaking once his hand got to the base.

“Can’t believe you didn’t tell me about your little kink” he says as he pushes into you, so your belly is resting softly on the pillow he placed under you.

“I didn’t even know, I don’t even think I had it until I saw your hands” you moan, his sweatpants rubbing deliciously against your clit.

“So my hands make you a kinky girl huh?” He teases and you try to turn your head round to him, but his hand runs over your shoulder before sliding across your neck.

A breathy gasp comes from you as you realise what’s happening.

“Lan?”

“Just let it happen beautiful” he leans into you from behind his voice hot in your ear. One hand lightly puts pressure on your throat while the other focuses on pulling his sweatpants just enough to have his fuck free enough to fuck the living shit out of you.

Because of course that was his plan now that he found out the affect just his hands had on you.

His hand continued to hold your neck in the perfect grip, a mix between pleasure and pain that you were absolutely thriving for.

Lando slipped in with ease, now that he was buried deep, his free hand came to hold your hip in a tight grip to keep you in place as he continuously pounded into you from behind.

Your head fell into the arm of the sofa, moans of his name and grunts of swear words and whines of what you wanted him to do all for muffled.

“So fucking pretty, fucking love you” Lando groans out as he speeds up, which seemed impossible from how quickly he was currently thrusting in and out of you.

“Fuck baby, that’s it. Squeeze me for all I’m worth” he moans into you, pressing your further into the sofas surface as he looses his own grip and his back is lightly on top of yours.

“Fuck Lan, i -“ you cry as your vision blurs and your soaking his dick and the fabricated sofa you were still on. Lando isn’t far to follow, all of his body weight melting on top of you when you had also finished.

“So .. erm do you have any kinks we need to talk about?” You breath out trying to move over so you can cuddle him. All you get in return in a laugh before he pulls you in fully to cuddle.

Taglist:

@littlebitchsposts @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

[rubyreduji]

The Peephole — jww

summary: wonwoo can’t stop thinking about how he wants to ruin his roommate, the peephole in his wall isn’t helping tamper those desires either

tags: smut (minors dni!), roommates!au, side reader x choi seungcheol warnings: mentions of blood (accidental cuts on glass), explicit sex, voyeurism, masturbation, creep wonwoo, oral (f. rec), mean dom!wonwoo, degradation, fingering, pinning, pussy slapping, finger sucking, some crying, spanking, objectification, slight hair pulling, creampies, wonwoo is obsessed with you wc: 5.0k an: once again writing perv roommate wonwoo, but in a diff universe lol (im insane), i tried to find a crusty photo of wonwoo but he just...is perfect???

Wonwoo’s body is burning up. His breath comes out in soft pants as he does his best not to make a sound. His body feels awkward and cramped but he doesn’t dare move his position. His cock sits in his hand, heavy and dripping as he presses his eye up to the shared wall between his bedroom and yours.

On the other side of the wall, you lay in bed, your chest heaving as you roll your hips against a pillow shoved between your thighs. Your body is completely bare and is covered in a light sheen of sweat as you continue to hump your pillow. You’ve been at it for at least thirty minutes now and Wonwoo has been enjoying every second.

You reach up to tug at one of your nipples and Wonwoo has to cover his mouth so you don’t hear the moan he lets out. God he loves your tits. They’re the perfect size to him and you have the cutest nipples he’s ever seen.

From the way you’re panting and the way your hips start to jerk, Wonwoo can tell you’re getting close. He proves to be right when it only takes you a few more seconds before your body is shaking and you slump against your bed. When you pull the pillow away from your legs, Wonwoo can see the wet spot left on the pillow and the slick arousal left on your thighs and it’s enough to get Wonwoo to finish himself. 

With a soft groan Wonwoo sits back, his body allowing him to collapse finally after sitting cramped for so long. His stomach still has cum splattered on it, but he can’t bring himself to care. Images of your luscious bare skin still burn in his mind.

You and Wonwoo have been roommates for about six months now. You two have been friends for longer though and when it was revealed that you needed a roommate, Wonwoo jumped on the chance to take it. He’s had a crush on you for a while and getting to live with you has been nothing short of a dream for him.

The first time he saw you walking around the living room in nothing but short shorts and a thin tank top (sans a bra) he nearly collapsed right there. It was torture to live with you while you walked around like that, but at the same time it brought life to Wonwoo.

Then, like the second coming of Jesus, a miracle happened one day. Wonwoo was just sitting in his room when a picture on his wall fell to the ground. The frame broke on impact with the ground, glass shattering on the floor. Wonwoo jumped and quickly moved to clean it up.

You ran in as well and Wonwoo had to take a moment to catch his breath when he saw you in your sports bra and spandex shorts. His eyes trail up your figure, staring at the bare expanse of your stomach before he finally pulls his eyes away.

“Are you okay?” You ask him, concern laced in your voice.

“Yeah, I wasn’t near it when it fell.”

“Be careful cleaning it up, here I’ll grab a broom.” You walk out of the room and Wonwoo watches, his eyes trained on the bounce of your ass. 

When you’re out of sight Wonwoo sighs and starts to pick up the broken frame and glass. He has it mostly cleaned up by the time you get back, but as soon as you walk into the room Wonwoo gets distracted again. Due to his focus being split, he isn’t careful cleaning up the last piece of glass and slices his finger open. He hisses and you quickly drop the broom to rush to Wonwoo’s side.

Wonwoo can smell your sweet perfume on your skin and he does his best to steady his breathing as you grab his hand. His skin tingles where you touch him, inspecting the cut. You tell him to stay put as you rush out of the room once more. Wonwoo doesn’t dare move, especially because he can feel his dick start to harden in his pants and it would become painfully obvious if he changed his position.

When you get back you kneel down next to him and help clean off the cut before dressing it. When you finish you press your lips to the bandage and smile up at Wonwoo.

“All better! Be more careful, okay? Or else I’ll have to play nurse again.” You send him a wink before getting up and going back to whatever you were doing before the frame fell. Wonwoo groans as soon as you leave, the wink you sent him being all he needs to get his cock to full mast.

He quickly gets up and closes his door. He’s about to jump in his bed when he looks back at his wall to see the damage the frame left. It was held up with a screw and when he looks, it’s clear the screw was torn out of the wall.

This is where the miracle comes in. Wonwoo walks over to assess the damage and when he leans in closer, he realizes light is coming out of the wall. When he presses his eye to the wall, he realizes that he can see right into your room, with the perfect view of your bed and the area right in front of it. The area where you currently are, doing yoga.

Your body is bent in half as you push your ass into the air. Wonwoo can see the way your shorts cling to your ass, the slightest definition of your pussy folds visible. 

“Shit,” Wonwoo mutters. He just struck a gold mine.

He quickly sticks his hand down his pants, grasping his achingly hard cock. He stands there, yanking and jerking his cock, watching you fold your body in all different ways. He nuts with a groan, making a mess of inside his pants, but he can’t care when he watches you strip down out of your bra and shorts before heading to your bathroom.

Wonwoo’s never seen you naked before, and he does his best to commit the image to memory, All of your pretty curves and smooth skin and pert nipples. The soft hair that covers your mound and the small bit of pussy peeking out. Wonwoo lets out a shuddering breath. This is the best thing that has ever happened to him.

Shortly after that Wonwoo moves his bed so it’s located under the hole. 

The new placement makes it not only easier to access the hole without having to cross the room, but also so he can now stay in bed to get off, rather than having to stand with his hand awkwardly in his pants.

Ever since he moved his bed he finds himself pressing his eye to the wall everyday, trying to get a look at your precious, bare body. Everytime he does get a peek his dick gets painfully hard and it doesn’t take long for him to be spilling his seed all over his hand. If you wonder why Wonwoo has been doing laundry so often, you don’t mention it. 

When not in the confines of his room, Wonwoo does his best to be a good roommate, trying not to stare at the swell of your tits or the jiggle of your thighs, but it doesn’t always work. Especially when it seems like you’re making a point to flash your cleavage at him. You never seem to notice his staring though, always sending sweet smiles to Wonwoo. Sometimes he swears you find any reason to be touchy with him, but he doesn’t mind. He loves when you get close enough that he can smell the shampoo you used earlier that morning.

Wonwoo doesn’t think that being your roommate can get any better, until the day he catches you touching yourself.

You and Wonwoo both had spend the day in your respective rooms and it isn’t until later in the night that Wonwoo decides to take a peek in on you. He instantly thanks whatever God told him to do so because there you are, splayed out on the bed, your legs spread as you rub your clit over your soaked panties.

Your shirt has been discarded and Wonwoo can see the bare peaks of your chest heave as you struggle to catch your breath. If Wonwoo holds his breath and strains his ears, he can hear the soft shallow breaths you’re taking, mixed with the sweetest moans Wonwoo has ever heard.

Wonwoo’s dick is quickly making his pants too tight and he presses himself up to the wall as much as he can, like it will get him closer to you somehow. Your fingers are rapid as they rub at your bud, but it’s still clearly not enough as you let out a frustrated mewl and hook your fingers into the waistband of your underwear so you can slide them down your legs.

When you spread your legs again, Wonwoo gets an eyeful of your whole velvety, sopping cunt. Wonwoo sucks in a breath, trying not to make any noise. He’s seen parts of your pussy when you’ve been undressing, but never the full shot. Now that he has, it’s driving him crazy.

Your folds are glistening and Wonwoo can’t pull his eyes away from your swollen clit. Wonwoo nearly busts a nut when you slide your fingers down and push our folds apart. You tease yourself for a moment before plunging your fingers into your hole. Wonwoo can hear every slick noise your pussy makes and he fucks his fist at the pace your fingers are going, imaginging your cunt is wrapped around him.

Your hips are arching off your bed as you continue to finger yourself. Wonwoon thinks about how his own fingers are much longer than yours. How he would reach so much farther and fill you up better. You’d whine and moan and chant his name as he pounded your g-spot.

Wonwoo is still thinking about how he’d touch you, how he’d fuck you, when he thrusts once more into his fist and paints his walls white. On the other side of the wall your body is tensing up and you’re crying out as you reach your high as well. You look gorgeous with your legs pushed far apart and your hand squeezing your own breasts. The image stays in Wonwoo’s mind for weeks after that.

The only time Wonwoo ever has qualms against the peephole’s existence is the night you bring Seungcheol over. You’ve been out all night and you don't come home until it’s late. Wonwoo didn’t know the reason why you were gone but he quickly figures it out when you come bursting into the apartment, giggling and trying to shush the person with you.

Wonwoo scrambles to press his eye up to the hole in the wall and watch as your lights flip on. He watches as a man follows you into your room and shuts the door before shoving you back onto your bed. He’s well built and has a handsome face but looks slightly shorter than Wonwoo. Wonwoo hates him instantly.

Seungcheol is the name that you moan out when he climbs over you and dips his head down to kiss at your neck. Wonwoo doesn’t want to watch this. He doesn’t want to see another man touch you in the way he desperately needs to.

He just can’t seem to pull his eyes away though.

Wonwoo watches as your date roams his hands all over your body before pulling away to help you strip all your clothes off. A soft growl escapes Wonwoo’s throat. Why does this random guy get to see you, touch you, feel you, when he can’t? 

Your skin glows under the yellow lights of the ceiling fan and Wonwoo tries to focus on you, rather than the naked man grinding his cock against your backside as he kneads your breasts. At least you two are standing now, instead of on the bed. Wonwoo can see you this way, without Seungcheol’s body covering yours. He can see the way you close your eyes and gasp as Seungcheol trails his hand down your front and to your core. He licks his lips when Seungcheol props your leg up on a crate nearby, spreading your pussy lips.

His fingers circle your clit and Wonwoo drools at the sight of your delicious, dripping cunt on display for him. The angle you two are standing at is right in front of the peephole and Wonwoo swears it’s like you two are putting on a show for him. His own personal live porn show.

Seungcheol moves to your front and Wonwoo is about to get annoyed when suddenly the other man drops to his knees. His fingers clamp down on your hips before he’s diving in, his mouth lapping at your cunt. Words cannot describe how desperately Wonwoo wishes that was him.

As Seungcheol mouths at your cunt, Wonwoo watches your face, focusing on the way your features contort into an expression of pure pleasure. Wonwoo can almost imagine it’s him making you look like that. Your fingers move down to bury themself in Seungcheol’s hair, your hips rutting up against his face.

Seungcheol continues to suck on your clit as you whine above him, impatient and needy. If it was Wonwoo in that position he would throw you on the bed and ravish your pussy, filling you up and now stopping until you’ve creamed on his cock at least three times.

It takes you yanking on Seungcheol’s hair a little too hard for him to finally pull away and stand up again. He moves back to his original position so his front is pressed up against your back, his fingers going back to rubbing at your sensitive clit.

Your breathing has gotten labored and Wonwoo can see the tip of Seungcheol’s dick poke through your folds as he rubs his length against your slit. You whine for him to get a condom and Seungcheol does, rolling it on before grabbing you again and spearing you on his cock. You moan, the loudest Wonwoo has ever heard you, and Wonwoo can’t hold back anymore. He pulls his own cock out, angry and dripping.

Seungcheol fucks you nicely, gentle hands and soft kisses. It annoys Wonwoo. He wants to see you ruined on your cock. It’s clear you feel the same way too. Wonwoo feels smug knowing that he could give it to you the way you want.

You and Seungcheol eventually move to your bed. He fucks you in missionary and you even though you orgasm, after you see Seungcheol out you’re sticking your dildo to the wall and fucking yourself with it. Your ass in the air with your face buried in your sheets. Your hips are frantic as you push back onto the toy, brutally pounding your pussy.

You kept shushing Seungcheol earlier, telling him ‘your roommate is home’ but now that you’re alone you don’t bother to cover up your moans. Wonwoo doesn’t know if it’s intentional or not, but he wants to think it is.

Wonwoo cums twice that night and goes to bed with the satisfying feeling knowing that despite another man having you, he could still give it to you better than anyone else.

You don’t bring men over again after that night, but it seems like you’re masturbating more than usual. Wonwoo doesn’t mind, though he does think his dick might fall off if you keep going at this rate. It’s not just you touching yourself that drives him crazy though.

There was that one day when you two where after you ate dinner together you proposed watching a movie together. Wonwoo already struggled through the whole dinner and the idea of having to sit through a movie with you was too much. He still said yes.

When he sits down on the couch he quickly adjusts his sweats so his semi doesn’t show. You two made dinner together tonight and the whole time you kept brushing up against him in the kitchen. You were in just a thin tank top and everytime you got too close to him, he could see down your shirt. On top of the shorts you’re wearing that your ass cheeks hang out of in the back, he’s been half gone for hours now.

Halfway through the movie you start to shuffle around on the couch. Wonwoo is hyper aware of your movements and it gets worse and you move to cuddle up to his side, throwing your legs over his lap. Wonwoo’s afraid you’re going to feel his stiff dick, but you don’t seem to. Or if you do, you don’t bring it up.

Your body is pressed up against his side and you’re warm and soft and your scent floods Wonwoo’s nose and his brain. He wants to grab you and fuck you right there, but he has at least some decency and spends the rest of the night trying to think of the worse things he can.

Towards the end of the movie you start to shift again, still all over Wonwoo. Your thighs are completely exposed on his lap and your already tiny shorts have rode up your legs so they look more like panties than anything else. Wonwoo’s fingers dig into the arm rest, doing his best to ignore the rub of your legs against his cock.

When the movie finishes Wonwoo quickly throws your legs off of him and he retreats into his room as fast as he can. You two have never been that physically close to each other for that prolonged of a period and Wonwoo can barely push his pants down his legs before he’s releasing long, thick ropes of cum onto his sheets.

Wonwoo doesn’t know what’s gotten into you but after that day it seems like you’re always touching and teasing him. He almost swears you’re doing it on purpose.

The worse case is the day you were prancing around the apartment in nothing but a pair of tight panties and a t-shirt. The hem of the shirt fell around at the top of your thigh, so the bottom part of your panties were still on display. Wonwoo can see the definition of your pussy lips peeking out at him. 

Wonwoo hides in his room the rest of the day just so he doesn’t pop a boner in the living room. At least in his room he can keep it hidden. Pretend he has some shame about what he’s doing. 

Then The Day comes. 

Wonwoo is sitting on his bed, messing around with some mobile game, when he hears you. Over time his ears have been trained to pick up on the soft noises you make, but this time you’re not trying to be quiet.

Wonwoo quickly turns to press his eye to the wall, staring through the hole to look into your bedroom. You’re once again spread out on the bed, your pussy bare and spread for Wonwoo’s viewing pleasure. You’re shoving a dildo into your cunt, your juices flying everywhere as you plunge the toy in and out of your needy core rapidly. 

Wonwoo is too caught up in staring at your cunt, that he nearly misses your words. “Ahh~ W-wonu, please,” you beg.

Wonwoo’s heart flies into his throat. 

“Woo, please. Fuck, I need you. I know you’re over there, watching me. Stop being so mean and finally come help.” Your words are breathy and labored, intertwined with high pitched whines.

Wonwoo feels like he’s in a dream. He doesn’t process anything until he’s standing in your room, over your naked body. His cock is leaking in his boxers and the tent it’s forming is clear.

You look gorgeous on the bed, sweaty and warm with droopy eyes and a messy cunt.

There’s no thoughts in Wonwoo’s brain and he quickly tears his clothes off his body. He doesn’t hesitate to grab your body and drag you to the edge of the bed. He pushes his dripping cock up to your slit, dragging it through your folds, getting the head even messier.

Just the slight contact of your soft, wet folds against his tip makes Wonwoo go mad. A growl rips from his throat and he leans down to suck one of your tits into his mouth. His teeth brush against your nipple and he bites it lightly before pulling his head back, tugging your nipple along with him.

You can’t do anything but squirm and whine on the bed, your fingers clawing at the sheets below you. Wonwoo’s cock keeps teasing your entrance, dipping into your pussy only to be pulled back before he can get in farther than the tip.  

“Wonwoo,” you whine. “Please.”

“Please what?” Wonwoo looks down his nose at you, smirking.

“P-put it in,” you say in a shy voice. Wonwoo doesn’t think you have room to be shy anymore, teasing him all this time, knowing you were driving him crazy.

“Put what in you baby? My cock?” You whine again. “Not yet.” Wonwoo’s cock is aching to fuck you, but he suddenly has the determination to drive you as crazy and you’ve been driving him.

Wonwoo pulls his hips back from you fully and you lift your hips, trying to chase the friction. Wonwoo pushes your hips back down against the mattress, pinning you there. He uses his other free hand to push your thighs apart farther. You gasp as he pushes his fingertips between your folds and sinks them into your awaiting pussy.

Wonwoo’s cock is twitching as it hangs in the air, both his own pre-cum and your arousal smeared all over it. Wonwoo reaches down and takes his cock into his hand and starts to pump himself to the pace he’s thrusting his fingers into you. Which albeit, isn’t very fast.

You roll your hips against his hand, trying to get him to go faster. Wonwoo knew you had a needy fucking pussy, but he didn’t realize it was this bad. He pulls his fingers out of you but doesn’t make them go far. He lines his fingertips up to your cunt and slaps it a couple times, quick and harsh. You yelp before turning it into a moan. Wonwoo lips his lips as he sees the slick slide down your pussy and onto the sheets.

“You like that? Nasty fucking girl,” Wonwoo growls before slapping you again, right over the clit. You buck your hips up, not caring that your cunt stings, you’re too desperate and need more.

Wonwoo shoves his fingers back into you, stuffing your pussy full. This time he isn’t slow at all. He pushes his fingers in and out of you brutally, his fingertips scraping up against your gummy walls. You wail at the feeling, your eyes never trailing away from where Wonwoo is still tugging at his dick.

Wonwoo pulls his fingers out of you, rapidly brushing them over your folds. You’re screaming as you orgasm, your body spasming as you leak slick all over. Your body finally drops to the bed, limp, and Wonwoo pulls his sticky fingers away from your pussy and up to your mouth.

He prods at your lips and you don’t hesitate to open up and let Wonwoo slide his fingers into your hot, wet mouth. You lick your own arousal off of his digits, before sucking at them intensely, staring up at Wonwoo with big eyes. Wonwoo pushes down on your tongue, letting your saliva collect there as you start to gag a bit, eyes watering. Wonwoo imagines that it’s his cock in your mouth, your tongue all over him as you do your best to slurp all of him down.

Wonwoo’s cock is about to burst now, and he’s finally done teasing you. He rips his fingers out of your mouth and you let out a disappointed huff. Wonwoo doesn’t pay any mind to it though as he shoves you over so you’re laying on your stomach, ass in the air.

Wonwoo moves up to you so he can rub up against your folds again, getting his dick slick.

“Fuck me raw, please,” you beg, your voice strained. “Fill me up and cum in me, Woo.”

Wonwoo groans and lines himself up, thrusting hard into you without warning. Your walls are soft and warm and silky around him and he keeps pushing in until he’s buried into you to the hilt. His grip on your hips is tight as he tries to keep some of his control, though he’s not sure how long it will last. He smirks victoriously to himself, knowing that he gets to fuck you raw while Seungcheol had to wrap it. Good he doesn’t want anyone else to know what your tight pussy really feels like. This is all for him.

Wonwoo presses his hand between your shoulder blades, forcing you even further down so your whole face is shoved against your mattress. You’re all his now, which means he can do whatever he wants to you. He drags his cock out of you, long and slow, before swiftly snapping his hips back into yours. Your whole body lurches forwards and your cry is muffled by the sheets.

“Fuck,” Wonwoo grunts, “your cunt is so fucking greedy, sucking me back in. I bet you like this, don’t you? You dirty little slut. I bet you’ve been waiting for me to do this. Come and fill up your pathetic pussy because nobody else could satisfy you?”

Wonwoo’s hips plow into you, fast and rough, not bothering to focus on you. You got to cum once, this is all about Wonwoo’s pleasure now. Wonwoo lifts his right hand up high and brings it back down, smacking your ass cheek red. He groans at the recoil, watching the way the fat jiggles under his palm.

The sound of Wonwoo’s balls slapping against your cunt fills the air along with the wet squelch of your pussy suctioned around his dick. Paired with the desperate sounds of sheer pleasure coming from your lips, Wonwoo swears he’s reached heaven. 

Wonwoo stares down at you, your round ass bouncing on his dick as you grasp the sheets in your fingers. Your back is arched with your whole front completely flush with the bed as he ruins you on his cock.

You’re babbling complete nonsense and Wonwoo spanks your ass one, two, three more times. “Speak up, slut. Or have I fucked you completely stupid already? My cock just too good for your dumb rain to handle?”

“I-,” you gasp, “p-please. Need to cum.” 

“You need to cum? Isn’t that a little selfish of you? I haven’t cum once and you’re here begging to cum a second time. Is your pussy actually that slutty?” Wonwoo scoffs. “You’re my toy now, so be good and maybe you’ll cum a second time.”

Wonwoo grabs your head by your hair and yanks so your neck leans back. Your pants are more audible now and Wonwoo leans down to pull your whole body up so your back is pressed to his front. He snakes his hands around your front and gropes at your tits, harsh and mean as he squeezes them roughly.

“God, you feel so fucking good. I love your nasty little cunt wrapped around me.”

Wonwoo can feel himself getting closer. His balls twitch as his length aches. Wonwoo leans down and sinks his teeth into your shoulder as he thrusts into you once more before he’s painting your walls white. Wonwoo keeps cumming until he’s completely filled you up. He can feel your pussy clench down around him as you reach your orgasm as well, obsessed with the feeling of his cum leaking into your cunt.

When Wonwoo is done milking himself, he unceremoniously pulls out of you, letting your body fall back onto your bed. You look completely ruined with your messy hair and tear stained cheeks and shaking limbs. 

Wonwoo himself isn’t feeling much better. His head is filled with a pleasant post-coitus buzz and his muscles are sore from the intensive use. He stares down at you and you smile up at him. He reaches down and wipes some tears out of your eyes.

“You were so good for me, pretty girl,” he mutters, praise finally falling off his lips. “I’ll be right back, okay?”

Wonwoo quickly gets you a towel and a glass of water before moving back to your room. You’re still laying on your bed, but you look a little more in tune with what’s going around you than before. You allow Wonwoo to help you clean up as you drink down your water.

Wonwoo busies himself getting dressed as you move into your bathroom to pee. When you come back out Wonwoo is still standing in the middle of your room.

“So…how long have you known?” He feels a bit awkward asking, even though he just rearranged your guts.

“Since the first day,” you answer casually, like it’s obvious. “I saw the hole when I went to help you clean up the glass. Then I heard you uh…getting off when I was doing yoga.”

Wonwoo groans. “I…I’m sorry.”

You snort a bit. “I doubt that. I didn’t mind though, or else I would have closed up the hole. Honestly it took you a little too long to do something about it. I was hoping you would come and fuck me after my failed hook up with Seungcheol.”

“That was months ago,” Wonwoo says in slight disbelief.

“Exactly!” You shout. “Doesn’t matter anymore though. I’ve got you now and you’ll fuck me whenever I want. Right?” You stand up and walk over to Wonwoo, wrapping your arms around his waist.

Wonwoo grins at you. “Anything for my pretty little toy,” he answers, before leaning down to press his lips against yours.

taglist: @pandorashbox @leejihoonownsmyheart @soonhoonietrash @chaimi-yuta @embrace-themagic @kayleeshinee @joonsytip @heyxxitsxxtay @synthetickitsune @chwecardcaptor @candidupped @dreamhannies @d0nghyck @niyizh @baldi-2 @spilled-coffee-cup @sulkygyu @enhacolor @noniestars @heavenly-mobo @sunnyteume @debsworld23 @m1nghaos @just-here-to-read-01 @blxckswxnxge @17kwans @jeanjacketjesus @x-veex @namjoonbaby @ovai @belladaises @todorokiskitten @valentxi @yeosayang @98-0603 @miriamxsworld @morklee02 @luvv4svt @tinkerbell460 @toruro @lllucere @moshiyuron @scorpiobitch88 @luvthatleader-nim @hoeforcheol @prpldahy @bias-recs @alltowoo @iwannabangchan @slu77ym4nw415ts

join my taglist: here!

[lostbo0]

Meant to be Yours…

Summary:

In attempts to catch a crazed stalker intent on having you all to himself, the team sends you and Spencer into the field posing as a loving couple in hopes to draw out the unsub, and perhaps residual feelings as well…

Warnings:

Drinking, canon-typical violence, some minor cursing

Word Count: 2.5k

Genre: Minor angst with happy ending

~~~

“This unsub presents with OCD-like tendencies; when things don’t align with his idea of how they should be, he feels an overwhelming need to fix it.”

“And as we’ve seen…” Morgan paused to survey the room, “will even resort to violent means to do so.” You fiddled with your fingernail polish in the conference room as the rest of the team ran-down the details of the case, each clack of the clock sending your imagination further spiraling.

“This unsub has taken a particular interest in (y/n) and Spencer’s…” Rossi glanced at you both, eyes darting between you and Spencer in the mere split second that he stalled, “perceived relationship.”

“Previous letters that he has sent to the BAU state that it is ‘unnatural’ and ‘wrongs must be righted’”. You shifted in your seat, hoping that the movement didn’t reflect concern on your end. You didn’t want to send the impression that you could ever be flustered by such a social degenerate with nothing better to do than stalk and nefariously matchmake strangers in the name of order. You didn’t want anyone to know that you were even slightly nervous. But of course you were nervous. There were death threats on your door, a faulty pipe bomb in your bathtub, notes to the BAU that begged the question what psycho was so concerned about your relationship status as he would go so far as to murder other men as a way to relieve the hatred he felt for Spencer Reid supposedly “taking his place”? You had no other choice but to be nervous.

“Additionally.” JJ began, “ Our unsub has found particular interest in (y/n), whom he believes to be soulmates with and will go to extreme lengths to feel connected to.” She clicked at the remote, panning the screen through crime scene photos from earlier, men killed and dumped out in the open, supposedly so you could find them. You shuddered and turned from the images and Spencer took the time to ghost his fingertips over your knuckles, a gentle and common way he has learned to calm you down. You looked at him, yet filled with the impression of observers, you tore your gaze from his equally fixated eyes. Something about the moment felt so intimate, despite seeming so insignificant. He only touched your knuckles, rubbing his middle finger over your index joint, occasionally drifting down your tendon, yet it felt so exposing and wrong you had to pull your hand away. You shot him a quick smile, hoping to mend the disappointment.

"He has yet to appear in plain sight, however,” Morgan shifted his weight, “We are hoping that our plan will draw him out.” He turned his gaze to Hotch, as if to say ‘continue’.

“(y/n) will go out into the field accompanied by Reid.” Your heart leapt when he said it. “They will go to the club that our unsub has been said to frequent, disguised as a couple.” That really made your heart leap. It felt so silly, being more nervous about interacting with your best friend than going into the field with a crazy obsessed murderer, yet the words ‘Ried’ and ‘couple’ in the same sentence made you tense up quite a bit. “We are hoping that this will set him off just enough to make an appearance, giving us the chance to take him into custody.”

For the first time since you sat down at the table, you turned your body to look at Spencer. He was messing with his hands at the table, head down, fully engrossed in thought. You wondered what he was thinking about. You always did. You wondered if you made him feel the same way he made you feel, but you dispelled the thought as Hotch dismissed the team to began preparing for your sting operation.

~~~

The club was dark. You wondered how the unsub would even see you here, however, Rossi assured you that he would come and he would see you on a date with Spencer. Date. You sort of hoped it was real, and not a ploy to catch a killer, but you would take what you could get. You and Spencer were sat at the bar in the middle of the room, practically lit by a spotlight. It was almost too obvious. Spencer turned, knees hitting the counter due to his height.

“Are you nervous?” He internally cursed himself for the question. Of course you were nervous. A serial killer was after you. He just wanted to try and make you feel better in any way he could. You read his concern like a book.

“A little bit, I think so, I’ve never done this before.”

“Have a killer after you?”

“Be on a date.” The admission was slightly embarrassing, even in front of your best friend, but you were 22 and had never been on a date before. Maybe you should have been more adventurous in high school.

“Wait, how?!” Spencer raised his voice in genuine shock.

“What do you mean? No one wanted to date the weird kid in high school.”

“Yeah but, you’re so pretty!” He froze, praying you didn’t see the heat rise in his cheeks. You did.

“What?”

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to-“

“No its ok! It just caught me off guard that’s all.”

“Say it again,” A muffled voice came across your ear pieces, you picked out that it was Rossi’s. You completely forgot that you were being listened to.

“What?” Spencer quietly responded.

“We have eyes on our unsub. He’s looking at you. We need him to hear you guys, so turn it up a notch.” You looked up at each other simultaneously.

“Got it thank you Rossi.” You touched your ear piece, passing it off as pushing your hair behind your ear.

“I-I mean you are really pretty, I just,” Spencer took this time to take a big sip of his drink at the bar table. You did the same. “It kind of surprised me that’s all.” He swallowed hard and you put your hand to his forearm, exposed by his rolled up sleeves.

“It’s ok, I’m gonna make it easy for you, hm?” You lowered your voice and looked up at him giving him a slight nod. He nodded in response, happy for you to relieve the pressure from him. You proceeded to unbutton your top an extra button, fluffing up your hair as you shrunk the gap between you two.

“W-what are you doing.” He whispered, his voice turning up in the end.

“Making it easy for you!” You looked up at him, doe eyes peering through your lashes as you rubbed his arm, a habit you had adopted years before, yet it never felt so intimate until now. Spencer took the hint as well, smiling gingerly, ghosting a hand atop your exposed waist, almost as if he were afraid of breaking you. He had also done this many times before, however you both felt something not so platonic rising within you.

“I wasn’t lying, when I said you were pretty,” His large hand cupped your waist, fingertips innocently prodding at your waistband. Your hand snaked up to his bicep, feeling your heart rate rise in your pulse. “I meant it.”

“Spence, I-“

“I did!” His eyes widened, his tell that said ‘I mean it’. “I see you every day at work and I think that you’ve just come from some beautiful night out with some guy way cooler than me.” Spencer grabbed a piece of your hair between his free hand, observing it with his fingertips. Following his lead, you pushed a stray piece of hair away from his dark eyes, feeling his gaze deepen.

“I can promise you Doctor, no man has ever taken me out for a ‘beautiful night’”. You could swear you saw relief in his eyes.

“It’s so weird to me. Your soft hair, your contagious laugh, the way that you are so considerate, the way that I can’t take my eyes off of you,” He surveyed your face. “How could someone not see how beautiful you are?” It was your turn to go slack-jawed, unable to pull your eyes off of the words leaving his lips.

“Spence, I,” You pulled your hand to his cheek. “I think you’re pretty too.” This was quiet. The unsub couldn’t hear your voice this low. This was for only Spencer to hear. Quickly and almost against your judgement, your bodies pulled together. It was painfully and at the same time beautifully slow; A speed that said ‘I know what I’m doing and I know what I want’. Your lips barely brushed against each other. Your eyes closed and the world was dark yet suddenly so full of light. He didn’t want to break you, or taint the beautiful innocence he felt on your skin, he thought, you were too good for it. Yet his body pulled him closer into you, lips moving in untroubled unison, a way that spoke volumes in the silence between you. You grabbed his face and pulled him closer, shutting out the world, shutting out the unsub, shutting out the observant breathing in your earpiece. You felt years of unspoken feeling poured into you, as his language began to ignore your setting.

“(y/n), Reid, He’s left the club and he’s angry, you need to pursue him.” Hotch’s voice dug into your ear as you and Spencer ripped yourselves away from each other. A look of regret was exchanged before you quickly exited the club.

~~~

It was much darker outside and your eyes tried their hardest to adjust to the sudden change in light. The dry dirt beneath you was kicked up as you and Spencer ran towards the unsub’s vehicle you were briefed on hours before. You let Spencer advance to the car as you watched the woods that sat just beyond the headlights. A good place for an unsub to hide you thought. Just as Spencer turned to give you the all clear, a swift arm wrapped around your neck and cold metal pressed against your temple.

“Drop the gun!” The unsub yelled and it stung your ears as you flinched. “I said drop the gun!”

“Ok, ok, Im putting it down ok?” You fearfully dropped your gun to the ground, feeling the reality of the situation set it. He kicked the gun away, eyes now moving to a horrified Spencer, gun poised to shoot.

“Put the gun down.” Spencer’s voice dropped into a deep, demanding tone of a person you had never seen before.

“You took her from me!” The unsub’s spit flew as he choked out more and more accusations. “I saw your little show in the club there,” his voice tensed. “I don’t take kindly to people disrespecting me like that.” Spencer cocked his gun, zeroing in on the unsub, waiting for a clear shot.

“She isn’t yours.”

“Reid, (y/n), is everything alright?” Hotch’s concern soaked through your ear piece as the unsub’s grip on your neck tightened.

“She’s mine you bastard!” The unsub shouted his foul cry.

“No she isn’t.” Spencer snapped. “What is her favorite color?”

“I’m sorry?” The unsub was clearly not keen on playing Spencer’s game, and you were equally confused and terrified.

“It’s light purple. Not plum, not eggplant. Light purple. See, you wouldn’t know that because you don’t know her like you think you do.”

“I know where she lives you dumbass! I know all I need to know!”

“Please, any low level data miner can find someone’s address, but, you don’t know that she only wears her hair up when it’s over 75 degrees outside, and, every winter, she takes out a 5 year old pink sweater from grad school, because she doesn’t like to spend money on things she doesn’t really need.” You listened to Spencer draw out information you didn’t even recognize about yourself. “She also hates black coffee, hates Splenda even more, and wears socks without lines because they feel too weird.” The unsub’s grip loosened as you felt the gun on your temple falter.

“See, you think you know about (y/n), but the truth is, she will never love you, and the only rings you're going to see are the one’s around your wrist when they put you away.” The unsub paused and, in the split second that he faltered, Spencer snapped his gaze to your own, an unspoken nod, as you kicked the unsub’s shins as hard as you could, falling to the ground as the sound of a gun went off.

Your ears were ringing. You didn’t want to open your eyes or check your body for wounds. You wanted to wait as long as you could before seeing the difference between life and death dripping from your head, and yet, you were there. You were alive.

Spencer flung his gun to the ground throwing himself at your place on the dirt parking lot, trembling hands at your ears trying steady your shaky breath. You yelped as he touched you, pulling you into his arms rocking you back and forth as if to say ‘I’m sorry’, as if to say ‘I should have been more careful’, as if to say ‘I love you’.

“I’m here, It’s over now,” he whispered into your ear, grabbing your hands in his own. “Breathe, it’s ok, breathe,” You inhaled and exhaled on his cue as the team flooded in to handle the rest.

You didn’t know how long you sat there on the ground with Spencer. All you remembered were the soft kisses he planted on your tussled hair, and the warmth his body exuded in the cold autumn air. All he could say was ‘I’m sorry’, and all you could say was ‘Thank you’.

~~~

Spencer walked you back to the ambulance. They checked you out and, seeing no signs of injury, released you to go home. Spencer never left your side. You picked at your thumbs sticking out of the huge emergency blanket the medics gave you.

“I didn’t know you noticed all of that stuff,” You cracked out a quiet sputter of words from your swollen throat. “I barely ever did.”

“I guess it’s the profiler in me,” He stopped for a second. “Or maybe the fact that I just can’t take my eyes off of you.” He looked up at your red face. You could only laugh, a small, understanding breath that broke the tension between you. “I’m serious! It’s like, when you’re in the room I can’t focus, It’s like, like-“

“Like I can’t make myself act normal when you’re around,”

“Exactly,” You didn’t need words to speak what came next. A gentle hand on your cheek pressed icy fingertips into your jaw.

Spencer, you’re freezing! Come here,” You opened up your blanked, beckoning him to sit at your side. He rested his head on your shoulder, taking your hands in his own, slowly turning to place a gentle kiss on your temple. A warm, understanding kiss that said ‘I will never let a gun touch any part of you again, no one will hurt you’. You sat for a moment before Hotch took you away to take a statement. At this time, Rossi strode over to Spencer’s seat on the back of the ambulance.

“Good job out there.” He gave Spencer a knowing glance. “Keep protecting her Reid.” Spencer nodded eagerly.

“Of course sir.”

“Im serious. She was meant to be yours.”

A/N: Thanks for reading! It’s been a fat minute since I’ve posted any writing! I hope you enjoyed it, and if not… I don’t know, that’s just not my problem.

[evilminji]

You know that Post about Danny becoming the False Villian, Expose?

To train all these kids, who are running around with shitty priorities and the self preservation instincts of lemmings? Because they were arrogant. Didn't listen to the concerns of those they "protect". Didn't listen to the concerns of a fellow Hero. So now, they WILL learn, at the hands of a "Villian".

Cause he TRIED pointing things out nicely.

Was met with a brick wall of condescension and dismissal.

THAT post.

You know where he would not only do that, but go APESHIT into it? Because he is a Hero and holy SHIT these kids are gonna get themselves killed? Gonna kill somebody ELSE? Have fucked up priorities and live in a fucked up system they do not even question?

Boku No Hero Academia.

Why the FUCK are you posing for the cameras? Why the absolute FUCK are you beating that man down on the worst day of his life, instead of TALKING him down? Why are you jumping too conclusions and splitting up and playing for the crowds? Why. The ABSOLUTE AND UNFORGIVING FUCK do you seem to ASSUME that every innocent soul, that doesn't look default generic human, is the AGGRESSOR in every situation you arrive at?!

Danny would have a conniption. Just a full body rage seizure, as his Ghost-y lil brain LIT UP with the BURNING NEED to fix everything, everywhere, at once. Right. Now.

But do they listen?

Ha!

Cool, cool cool cool cool..... he's gonna burn the entire country dow- No! That way lies Dan! Breathe, Fenton. Just.... Breathe. You can fix this.

The older ones may be set in their ways, but the younger ones are still learning. They can get better. BE better. They're kids. They just need opportunities to grow. And they WANT to be Heros, right? All he has to do is show them HOW. Poke their weak spots and point out their mistakes.

He can do that!

And just? Out of NO WHERE? This foreign villian decends upon Japan? What's worse, seeming to TARGET HEROS STUDENTS. Young, just debuted, Heros. Everyone freaks out. Older Heros closing rank, where they can, to try and Protect These Kids(tm).

But they can't be everywhere at once.

And this menace? Seemingly CAN be. Can make copies of himself. Use Ice. Fly. Energy beams. Intangiblity. Invisibility! What monster are they DEALING with?! That plays the flamboyant fool, dispensing deadly peril, only to then turn around, and in chilling sobriety absolutely destroy seasoned heroes?

That LECTURES them while doing it.

He's undermining the people's faith in the system!

(But should they have faith in it? Doesn't he have good points? Aren't they getting stronger, faster, better heroes for facing him? Where did he come from? Hasn't anyone else noticed that not a single civilian has gotten hurt, at his hands? That he annihilates any true villians foolish enough to think he's on their side?)

(How many "thugs" and "minor villians" have these guys not noticed, they wonder, who have just... disappeared. Come into contact with this guy and then? Stopped. Turned up somewhere else, weeks later, healthy again. Smiling with illegal lifestyle support gear, a new job, a new life, and better future. Finally free of the violence.)

Amity may be at peace by the time Danny turns 20(-ish? Maybe? Is he? Clockwork! How old IS he? You've sent him on so many of your weird timebend-y missions he lost count!). But? Danny is a Heroic Protector Spirit. His Obsession has demands. And his Human sides Space Obsession will never really be quite strong enough to support him.

You know, since it can't die.

Just because it HAS a Soul aspect to it, doesn't mean it'll ever come into practical use. So? The more powerful Heroic instincts it is! And honestly, he wasn't even planning to STAY. Just check the place out. You know, compare his options. But... *twitch*

They Are Doing It Wrong.

So now he lives here!

.....it's awful! They don't even have any space exploration! No studying, no stars, no futuristic moon base! Nothing! And he doesn't even SPEAK Japanese! In human form? He has no idea what anyone is saying! At least the Sorta-But-Not skeleton Ghost guy across the hall is helping. Dude might be taller then his DAD. Seriously ecto-starved though. It's like he somehow GAVE all his body's ecto to someone else!

How's he supposed to heal like that?! Guy really needs to learn how to take care of himself.

@hdgnj @babbling-babull @lolottes @nerdpoe @hypewinter @mutable-manifestation

[hanjisick]

chemical infatuation

genre. yandere au. patient!jisung x researcher!reader

desc. jisung takes part in a high-paying yet sketchy study with seemingly no risks, but the injection causes him to quickly grow obsessed with the daytime staff member assigned to his study.

warnings. needles. vomit. murder.

wc. 3.5k

“is it a bad time to tell you that i’m a little claustrophobic?” your patient, han jisung, nervously shifted in his seat, fiddling with the hem of his sweater.

“we have to keep you in this containment during our research.“

the containment room, with its dim lighting and cushioned walls, seemed to close in on him. the dimensions felt constricting, heightening the anxiety surging through his veins.

every inch of the space was under surveillance, every move to be meticulously scrutinized by the watchful eyes of researchers.

what a sketchy situation. but it was better than he had expected from a craigslist ad that he had chanced upon.

the snap of your rubber gloves pulled him away from his thoughts, “it isn’t too late to back out, we have a few more candidates willing to take your place.”

500 million won. that was enough for him to do anything.

“i’m fine. i’m ready.”

“alright then, pull your arm out of your sweater for me.”

“i have a tank top underneath.” the boy shuffled out of the sweater and placed it onto his lap.

“and as the paperwork says, you have no allergies, anaphylaxis, or any history of mental illness?”

“nope.”

he flinched as the cool alcohol pad met his bicep.

“the medication we are testing for you should not hurt you much as far as we are concerned,” you began prepping the needle and syringe, “the only side effects that we predict could be a minor headache for a couple of days. it is not dangerous.”

jisung closed his eyes as you squeezed his arm slightly, pushing the needle through his skin.

you gently placed the gauze onto his arm, “finished. how do you feel immediately?”

“normal. a little shaken up from nerves, but no problems. what do i do now?”

“you’ll be watched for a month. the only restrictions are that you aren’t allowed to leave this room or use any devices.”

the idea of isolation and confinement weighed a bit heavily on him, but he was determined to see it through.

you motion towards the mattress in the corner, “we will change your bedding twice throughout the month. let us know if you are uncomfortable with the temperature of the room, need extra bedding, or anything else.”

jisung nodded.

“let us know if you need to use the bathroom and we will temporarily disable the cameras for your privacy. but we will take urine samples if we deem it necessary.”

“and what about food?”

“you’ll be fed three meals per day, with two snacks.”

“thank you. that’s all i need to know,” he paused for a moment, “other than your name. what’s your name?”

“y/n l/n,” you gather your paperwork, “your personal belongings will be returned once we go through to make sure there is nothing that could alter our research.”

the door had closed and locked, leaving jisung alone in the room with just his thoughts to keep him company until his stuff was given back to him.

Beginning Notes

Han Jisung (Male)

23 years old, no known medical problems

Acterenol, Administered 16:38, 5/17/25.

Intramuscular, Upper Arm

Notes: Jisung feels nervous about receiving the injection. Administered at 16:38 with no noted side effects.

you watched the boy through the array of cameras placed strategically throughout the room as he lay on the mattress. his sweater was haphazardly discarded across the room, a seemingly small attempt to make himself more comfortable in the sterile, plain environment.

despite the initial nerves of a new medication, nothing had seemed to happen. at the fifteen-minute mark, you stepped away from the cameras for a moment— if there were to be a severe sudden reaction, it would have manifested by now, you reasoned.

throughout your shift, your attention continued to drift back to the screens displaying jisung’s every move. with each glance, you found him engaged in various activities—doodling, writing in a journal, or simply staring off into space, lost in thought.

nothing seemed to go wrong. perhaps this medication would be approved.

Overnight Notes

Han Jisung (Male)

23 years old, no known medical problems

Acterenol, Administered 16:38, 5/17/25.

Intramuscular, Upper Arm

Notes: Jisung ate all of dinner and requested night snacks. He had slept well. No side effects were recorded.

you press the bright red button, lowering your mouth to the microphone.

“how is everything down there? any side effects?”

“y/n? is that you speaking?”

“yes,” you were surprised that the boy had remembered your name, “what are your symptoms?”

“you should come into the room to speak with me. i’m lonely here.”

“i have to record your symptoms. i can’t come down there unless i know that you’re stable.”

the microphone had only barely picked up his sigh. “i’m normal.”

“any headaches? dizziness? dry throat?”

“nope. nothing. everything’s fine. just lonely.”

you sigh. he seemed normal. he was lying in bed, staring up at one of the cameras.

so it was fine, right?

you push open the door, greeted by the grinning patient on his mattress.

“you smell nice. what products do you use?”

what an odd conversation starter. “nothing special. just a lavender-scented body wash.”

he nods. “the overnight staff were fine, but i think that i prefer you. i can’t put my finger on it quite yet.”

was jisung naturally this blunt with his words? or was he flirting with you?

“what do you plan to do during your stay here?”

he leans back against the cushioned wall, “i compose songs for artists. i figured that it would be easy to get a lot of work done in here.”

“i see. is that your songwriting journal then?” you eye the small black book and pen next to him.

he takes the pen into his hand, “yup. it’s one of the few things that i brought here.”

“you’ll have to show me some of your work sometime throughout the month.”

“you can look at my work now,” he grins, clicking the pen, “my name is HAN. look me up.”

the name stays in your mind as you exit the room and lock the door. you find your way back to your seat at the cameras to supervise the man, pulling your lunch out of your back.

one hand holds a sandwich as the other browses through safari, looking at the songs that your patient had composed.

you hadn’t heard any of them, but perhaps it would be a good idea to look into the lyrics. it would give you things to talk about with him for the following month.

the rest of the shift was boring. you watched as he wrote in his notebook, ate his food, hummed to himself— nothing interesting.

the most intriguing thing that you experienced was the occasional ‘help!’ button being pressed, only for the man to announce that he needed to take a piss.

your misery was ended once your coworker entered the room, placing his keys and bag down on the table.

a sigh of relief left you, “thank god. it’s so boring.”

“thanks for the warning.”

Overnight Notes

Han Jisung (Male)

23 years old, no known medical problems

Acterenol, Administered 16:38, 5/17/25.

Intramuscular, Upper Arm

Notes: Jisung ate all of dinner and requested no night snack. Awoke at 01:00 and 03:00. Specified no reason for waking. Special request for morning staff: Deliver lavender-scented body wash.

your eyes stared down at the note with slightly widened eyes.

perhaps he had good intentions, perhaps your defenses were just too high. after all, he might just like the scent of lavender like you did.

“good morning. any headaches? dizziness? dry throat?”

“my arm is a little sore, and i’m a bit restless, but that is all.”

you record his answers— finally something to write down.

“i saw your request from last night. i’ll get a staff member to deliver your body wash. did you run out? i’m sure we gave you enough.”

“i still have some. i just wanted to try yours out.”

how strange.

“you’re coming down to see me today, right?”

“not today. i want to see if your symptoms worsen throughout the day. it’s best to be careful.”

you watch through the camera as he slumps back, visibly disappointed.

today, the boy had begun to act a little bit differently. every couple of minutes, he would stop his writing to look up at the camera.

you would hold eye contact with him for a few moments, even though he couldn’t see you before he would look back down again with a large grin that wasn’t on his face before.

soon, the bottle of body wash was delivered to his room.

“y/n! is that you?” he jumped out of bed as the lock clicked, only to be disappointed to see a man in a mask and gloves leave it right inside of the door.

he crept towards the bottle, snapping the lid off, holding it up to his nose, then inhaling deeply.

“it smells like you.”

you clenched your teeth, writing down the reactions.

walking over towards the center of the room, he peeled his t-shirt off his frame, then pulled down his sweatpants and boxers in one go.

you shrieked, slamming the buttons to disable the camera.

he was supposed to tell you when he needed privacy.

with shaky hands, you began to jot down his behaviors.

once ten minutes had passed, you turned the camera back on in hopes that he was decent again. this time, you had enabled the camera with caution, only to see that he was showering.

you disable it once again and decide that this would be a good time to have lunch.

the image of the naked man was etched into your mind as you tried to force the salad down your throat.

it was a good thirty minutes until you got the courage to turn the camera back on, sighing in relief as you saw him on his bed with sweatpants on once again.

jisung stared up at the ceiling with hooded eyes, chest rising and falling— you weren’t sure what was going through his mind.

you press the button. “everything alright in there?”

he perked up, “y/n, everything is just fine. i wish you were in here, though, instead of behind that stupid camera.”

you bite your lip uncomfortably, unsure of how to respond.

changing the subject would be best.

“lunch will be delivered soon.”

“good. i’m a bit hungry.”

you take your finger off of the button, sitting back in your seat, waiting for your shift to be over.

Overnight Notes

Han Jisung (Male)

23 years old, no known medical problems

Acterenol, Administered 16:38, 5/17/25.

Intramuscular, Upper Arm

Notes: Jisung ate most of dinner and requested no night snack. Had difficulty falling and staying asleep. Awoke many times to journal. Refused conversation about his symptoms.

“y/n? you’re here, right? right?”

you had only just opened the door to the surveillance room, met with his muffled voice through the speakers.

“y/n? y/n? baby? my beautiful doll?”

the nickname caught you off guard, breath caught in your throat.

before answering, you grabbed the pen off the desk to jot down the behavior. this was not normal.

he stared directly into the camera. “i know you’re here. i journaled the minutes until he would leave and you would replace him.”

your legs shook as you took a seat.

why were you so nervous? it wasn’t like you were in danger. the door was locked. his body language did not seem hostile.

but his eyes told a different story. they were dark, crazed, restless.

“doll? can you hear me? can you hear me?”

your voice stuttered, “what are your symptoms?”

“i missed your voice, y/n.”

“any headaches? dizziness? dry throat?”

“none,” jisung answered quickly, “so you can come down and see me, right?”

you lied through your teeth. “not today. we are still a bit worried about yesterday’s symptoms.”

“fuck!” his forehead hit against the wall.

you took your finger away from the button.

he balled his hand into a fist before hurling it towards the same wall.

jisung crumbles to the floor. “i can’t take it anymore.”

“are you alright? are you in pain? do you need help?” you grasp your pen with an unsteady hand, “tell me what’s going on. talk to me.”

“i need to see you again, i waited all night just for you to tell me no.”

“it’s for the safety of you and myself.”

his voice was barely above a raspy whisper, “i promise i won’t hurt you, i’d never hurt you. i couldn’t hurt you.”

“jisung,” you started sternly, “i’m unable to see you. please abide by the rules of the study.”

“can’t i quit?”

“you signed a form stating that unless there is a medical emergency, you aren’t to leave this room. i’m quite not sure that you’re in your right state of mind right now.”

“i would be fine if you’d let me see you again.”

it was pointless to argue with the man, so you let go of the button, jotting down the conversation.

jisung did not eat, speak, or move from his spot that day.

Overnight Notes

Han Jisung (Male)

23 years old, no known medical problems

Acterenol, Administered 16:38, 5/17/25.

Intramuscular, Upper Arm

Notes: Jisung ate no dinner and requested no night snack. Did not sleep through the night. Refused conversation.

“doll, you’re back.” his raspy voice announced your presence just as you opened the door as if he was in the room with you.

on the camera, he was spread out in the middle of the floor like a starfish. his blonde hair covered his face, but you could still see the eye bags forming under his sunken eyes.

“i have a bit of a headache. i’m dizzy. my throat is dry,” he answered your questions for you, “will i get to see you today, doll?”

you were a bit afraid to answer, hesitating as you pressed the button, “i’m sorry. no.”

“but i will be able to see you after the study, right? after the study you’ll marry me, right?”

your heart dropped into your stomach at the words.

“i have a partner, jisung.”

“i know,” he smiled lightly, “it’s me. but soon i’ll be your husband, right?”

this was too much. you felt sick. you needed to alert the rest of the team and let someone else take over this case. hell, you might even quit your job.

“imagine you as han y/n. it sounds beautiful, doesn’t it?”

his crazed voice rang through your ears as you stood up from your seat.

“nobody else has ever made me feel this way, do you know that? all i want is you. and i’ve only seen you twice. isn’t that absurd? love is just so beautiful.”

his words caused you to still. you felt like a deer in headlights.

“do you think the shot is what made me crazy? because ever since we met eyes after you gave it to me, i couldn’t stop thinking about you. about your touch, even through the gloves. all of my songs have been about you. i even drew you.”

waves of nausea came crashing down on you.

“i can’t wait until i’m finally out of here. i can finally have you all to myself. i’ll kill that night staff for taking you away from me.”

jisung scoffed at the thought of him, “and he’s the one who gets the pleasure of passing by you every day? do you like him? i’ll gouge his eyes out and wear his skin if you like him more than me, hm?”

you raced towards the trash can in the corner of the room, stomach churning as your breakfast came right out of your mouth.

the smell was putrid, acidic, disgusting. but not as disgusting as the words of the sick man behind the camera.

“did you watch me shower, my love? i don’t mind if you did. your lavender body wash felt so good on my body, i imagined it was you in there with me, washing my body yourself—“

you ran out of the room, slamming the door behind you.

“he’s crazy! he’s gone mad!” you point towards the surveillance room, tears streaming down your face as you try to explain the situation to the nearest person that you can find.

“calm down. go to the break room. i’ll alert the rest and we’ll handle it.”

“you’ll be okay,” a staff member reassures, handing you a much-needed drink from the vending machine, “he won’t be able to escape. we will detain him and try to get him any help that we can.”

“even aside from how creepy he was, i just feel terrible, you know? i gave him that shot.”

“it isn’t your fault. he knew what he was getting into. we tried our best to determine the effects. there was no way of knowing.”

although he was right, guilt and horror still ate you up as you rested your head in your hands.

“this is why our job is important, so that only one person gets hurt instead of an entire population of people.”

“what a shitty job.”

he laughed as he got up, “tell me about it. i’m gonna go see what i can do to help. let us know if you need anything.”

the door closes and you lay your head down on the table, closing your eyes.

all you could think about was the man and his words.

‘i can’t wait until i’m finally out of here. i can finally have you all to myself. i’ll kill that night staff for taking you away from me.’

would he be able to leave? would he be able to get over this love sickness? is it reversible? nobody knew anything about it. the only thing that could be done is watching him.

it only seemed to get worse over the days, and you didn’t want to know what he would be like at the end of the month.

Overnight Notes

Han Jisung (Male)

23 years old, psychosis

Acterenol, Administered 16:38, 5/17/25.

Intramuscular, Upper Arm

Notes: Jisung ate no dinner and requested no night snack. Did not sleep through the night. Refused conversation aside from asking for previous staff, Y/N L/N.

you no longer worked with jisung. instead, you had been assigned to a new case.

“it isn’t too late to back out, we have a few more candidates willing to take your place.”

“i’m not nervous. go ahead and inject me, doctor,” the patient joked, pulling her sleeve up.

“and as the paperwork says, your only allergy is mild reaction to shellfish, but no anaphylaxis or any history of mental illness?”

“all correct.”

you were wiping her bicep with alcohol when the door had opened, screams piercing your ears from outside of the soundproof room.

“y/n?”

blood dripped onto the floor from his heaving form, eyes bloodshot and locked right on your form. in his hand, he held a loaded handgun, the smell of gun powder seeping into the room.

the patient in front of you screeched, immediately making a run for it before her brains were splattered across the room.

your ears rung from the shot, standing stalk still as jisung approached you.

everything was moving too quickly. you couldn’t process a single thing. your head was spinning. you needed to survive.

“please, i’ll do anything, don’t hurt me.”

“i told you. i won’t hurt you, i’d never hurt you. i couldn’t hurt you.” a bloody hand ran through your hair, taking advantage of your frozen figure.

“i can’t believe i’m so close to you right now.” his nose buried into your neck and you could feel the cold metal of the gun pressing against your back.

“they’re all dead. and you’re back.”

he dropped the gun to the floor, fishing through his pocket.

before you could register what was happening, jisung had already lodged a needle into your arm.

“sleep tight, my doll, i’ll get us out of here.”

[shadesslut]

loving her was red

MINORS DNI

Pairing: Dark!Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

Content Includes: Smut, p in v!, Dark!Ethan

Summary: There was nothing he wouldn't do to be her first priority, even if it meant killing his friends

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7 part 8

✮

✮

✮

Lewd noises filled the small room of her apartment. There was a musk smell filled with sweat and other liquids. He never in his life thought he would ever be in this position, putting her in this position. The sweet and desperate sounds that flowed out of her mouth like honey only stroked his obsession more. They were on her bed, ruining her periwinkle bedsheets, grabbing at each other’s skin trying to explore every crevice they could fit in. 

“F-Fuck,” he whimpered softly as he thrusted in and out of her. She looked up at him with a seductive expression and took his hands in hers. He knew he wasn’t the best at this, he knew he had to learn. He would learn about how her body works and what it reacts to if it was the last thing he ever did. 

She arched her back slightly as he quickened his movements. ���You’re doing so good.” she cooed at him, brushing strands of his curly hair out of his face. His body had never felt this way before; he was on fire, and it was because of her. 

He leaned lower over her body and stuck his face into the crook of her neck. His thrusts became sloppier, lazier. “It feels so good,” he moaned. “You feel so good.” 

He gasped as he reached his high and held onto her tightly. He was too fucked out to look at her, which is also why he whispered an ‘I love you’ to her. He realized his mistake, but he felt too much pleasure to care at that moment. 

As he laid next to her, hugging her side, she looked over at her phone which laid on the nightstand. She quickly kissed him on his sweaty forehead before checking her phone. He sleepily glanced at her and licked his lips. “What are you doing?” he asked.

Her thumbs tapped on her phone hastily before answering. “Texting Tara,” she replied as she set her phone back down. She rolled around over to him and softly smiled. “So, how does it feel not being a virgin?” 

He smiled and looked down at his hands that unconsciously found their way to her hips. He shrugged his shoulders and looked up at her. God, she’s so pretty. He thought. He should have said it, looking back at it, he regrets not saying it. 

“I always feel good when I’m with you.” It was true; every time Chad invited him along with the rest of the group, he always looked forward to it. Because every time the group hung out, she was always there. She always treated him with kindness more than the others did. When he first hung out with the group, she was the only one to have an intimate conversation with him unlike Chad or the others. He didn’t dislike Chad, he has fond memories of them hanging out, but let’s just say that if Chad wasn’t his roommate, the two wouldn’t be friends. 

She smiled sweetly and laid her head on his chest. She started rubbing circles on his torso with her index finger, and it drove him crazy. “Ethan,” she said. “You wanna talk about what you said there?” 

The answer was no, he did not want to talk about how he confessed his love for her in the middle of their hookup. “Uhm, what did I say?” he lied, knowing she knew he meant it. 

A giggle escaped her lips as he looked up at him. “You said you loved me.” she reiterated. She didn’t look mad or even confused, she just looked…concerned. 

“I-uhm…” he spoke, regretting ever saying it to her. He never planned to tell her how he felt about her this soon. There were too many negative factors that played in. He was worried that she’d be freaked out if her friend’s roommate, whom she barely knew, confessed his love to her in the middle of what was supposed to be, a one-night stand. He was scared she would cut him out of her life if she found out how badly he was obsessed with her. “It was just a spur of the moment, I didn’t mean it.” he lied smiling. “I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable.” 

She sat up and shook her head while stretching her arms above her head, causing Ethan to stare at her chest. “It didn’t, I just would have had to tease you about it if you meant it.” She stood up from the bed and walked sluggishly towards the bathroom. “Do you wanna shower with me?” she yelled out as she turned the shower on. He immediately stood up and slightly jogged towards the bathroom

—

Ethan sat next to Chad at the end of a red, torn-up diner booth. It was an old family-owned diner that they always ate at on Thursday nights. Chad’s twin sister, Mindy, and her girlfriend Anika were placed across from them, sharing a chocolate milkshake. The only one that wasn’t there was her; she usually arrives late due to her night class. She insists they don’t wait for her to order, to which they oblige, but not Ethan. Ethan refuses to order his food before you get there, so that’s why his stomach is roaring. Chad notices and looks at Ethan, letting Mindy and Anika continue their conversation. 

“Dude, just go order your food. Y/N doesn’t mind.” Chad reassured with a mouth full of his cheeseburger, which wasn’t helping Ethan’s growing hunger.  

Ethan gave him an uncomfortable look, “Nah, I don’t want her to be the only one eating when she gets here.” 

Chad shrugged and took another bite. He leaned over to sip from his soda before swallowing and replying, “If it makes you feel any better, I’ll probably order another side later.” Which made Ethan chuckle at his roommate. “Do you know if she’s on her way?” 

“Why would I know? Aren’t you guys best friends?” Ethan asked, confusion lacing his tone. Chad glanced away momentarily, hoping Ethan wouldn’t notice but he did. He nervously coughed and muttered ‘I don’t know’. 

That was weird, Ethan thought, but before he could say anything, she walked in and plopped herself down next to Mindy. 

“Hey, sorry I was late. My professor is such a douchebag.” she huffed before stealing Mindy and Anika’s milkshake and taking a sip. Her hair was in a low messy bun, and her maroon cardigan slid off her shoulders. She looked so tired, so worn out, she didn’t deserve to be so drained like this. She deserved to be held and taken care of. Ethan wanted to be the one to hold her and take care of her.

Mindy stole her shake back with a playful glare. “What’d the asshole do this time?” she asked. Y/N rolled her eyes and sighed deeply and gave her ‘I’ll tell you later’ eyes. Mindy nodded and turned her attention to the rest of the group. “So,” she started, smiling as she corrected her posture and put her hands on the table. “What is everyone wearing to the party tomorrow?”

Ethan noticed how Y/N perked up at her question. “I’m gonna be Tiffany Valentine!” she said excitedly. “I’m wearing a short white dress with a leather jacket,” she said putting her head in the palms of her hands. Ethan loved how giddy she was, even if it was about a silly Halloween costume. He loved how her eyes lit up, how passionate she got. He wanted to scoop her up and give her everything in the world she wanted; he would give her the world. As the others said what their costumes would be, Ethan could not stop daydreaming about her. He thought about the other night, and how their bodies hugged each other. He wanted to stay in that moment forever with her. He smiled as he looked down at the table and glanced up at her, who was staring right at him. Ethan blushed slightly and quickly looked away. He inhaled deeply and looked up again, only to be met with the others staring at him. 

“W-What?” He stammered nervously as he looked between Chad and the three girls. Y/N giggled slightly and covered her mouth. 

Chad nudged him on the arm and answered, “We asked what your costume was.” 

Ethan’s face flushed with embarrassment as his friends laughed. “O-Oh, I’m dressing up as this guy from a movie; Murder Party. He wears a cardboard costume so,” Chad nodded as Mindy made a slightly insulting comment. The rest of them moved on to a different topic, making Ethan’s shoulders relax. He looked over to Y/N, seeing her softly smile at the group. He wanted to take a picture of your smile, so he could always look at it. He loved your smile, he loved her. He wanted to tell her that, scream it at her, but he was scared; scared he would creep her out. 

—

On the way back to campus, the five of them conversed as they laughed with each other. Mindy and Chad were arguing about something while Anika held back a laugh at the two. Ethan and Y/N walked slowly behind the group. 

“So,” she said looking at him slowly reaching her hand towards his. She glanced at the group as they laughed louder before intertwining her hand in his. “You wanna come over to my place tonight? I got this new thing I wanna try with you.” she smiled at him as his ears reddened. He looked at the group, still unaware that their two friends were planning on fucking later, and looked back at her. 

He gently rubbed his thumb over her skin and pulled her back causing them to both stop. He caressed her cheek with his hand and leaned toward her. She widened her eyes at him and looked at the group before pulling away. “What are you doing?” 

“Oh, I don’t know, I was just-” he stammered nervously. He didn't want to make her uncomfortable.

She took her hand out of his and cut him off. “Just stop,” she said glaring at him. “Stop with all this romantic bullshit, okay? We have rules.” she spat at him as she rushed off to the others, linking arms with Chad. Ethan’s hands clenched into fists as he saw Chad hesitantly wrap his arm around her waist. He slowly started walking as he caught up with the others. He wanted to kill Chad. He wanted to hurt him for touching her. He had always envied Chad for his relationship with her; being her best friend, knowing more about her than him, killed Ethan. He wanted that with her. He was the one who deserved it the most, not Chad. He was going to kill Chad.

[gremlingottoosilly]

[If you need to be mean] chapter 2

Chapter 1

Konig decided to meet his new favorite civilian at the cafe you work at. Unfortunately for both of you, you're both socially awkward. TW: Konig being a huge pervert, Canon-Typical violence, Dub-Con, Innocence kink, Age difference(Konig in his yearly 40, Reader in young 20)

Pairing: Konig x fem!Reader Tags: Fluff, Power Imbalance, Hurt/Comfort, Size Kink, Possessive Konig, Yandere Konig, Creepy scary stalker Konig, written mostly from Konig's perspective

— Did something good happen, colonel? You are practically shining. 

Horangi always had this special ability of telling nonsense with the most serious face and deep voice. He also was the only one in his unit to ever be brave enough to joke with his superior – even though all the other KorTac members usually don’t risk their asses to be put on fire list because of some silly joke. He is the closest König has to a friend – and it’s kinda sad, actually, that a broken gambling addict is the only person who can read his emotions so well, even with his hood and permanently sour expression. 

But something good did happen – you happen, of course. 

He spend a few days of self-reflecting, drinking and punching training manekens in the gym, trying so fucking hard to put your adorable civillian face out of his mind. You were out of sight alright, but the way your features would get distorted into something even more adorable every time he closed his eyes, was concerning. He dealt with those little obsessions before – nothing that a few good rounds of jerking off until he would feel nothing but emptiness and hatred to himself couldn’t handle. He surely can’t fall that deep down, he only saw you for like an hour and it was literally three days ago! 

— I read your reports about the last terrorist encounter. Good job, Horangi. 

— And I heard about that civilian girl you pulled, sir. Thought we are bringing those to the police, not their houses. 

— I had to make sure she wasn't a spy. 

— And she wasn’t? 

König thinks – would be far easier if he would have an official, legal reason to keep you locked up on the base without the right to come out. Would be far easier for him to just think about you as an enemy, so he would have normal reasons for thinking about you constantly, and not feeling guilty. It’s normal to think so much about your enemies – this is what keeps you alive on the field, if you can determine their shortcomings early and make sure that you can fight them. He would love having you as an enemy – it would at least give him some info before starting obsession over little ol’ you. 

— No. 

— That would give us at least some lead to the terrorist cell. Feels like all locals are protecting them from it. 

— I understand your frustration. But at least they are not cutting our pay. 

— We might as well rebel if they’d try to. 

— We are not stepping on terrorist’s route. 

— I was joking, sir. Only thing that’s left here except for card games. 

Horangi hates stationing in this country as much as König is – and, given that he is a sergeant and doesn’t have as much rank expectations, can talk about this openly. This operation is perfect except for the lack of intel, lack of action and lack of basically anything to do – the local forces are handling minor threats, while mercs here are mostly to show off how the government has money to hire them. KorTac would pay for actually having to fight some bad guys around here – but the bigger ones are hiding and lower ones are already getting tracked down by the local military. 

The only interesting thing to do, seemingly, is to obsess over local girls – and König thought he is better than this. 

But he isn’t losing sleep over thinking about how scared and fragile you looked that night. Especially not even going to think about how adorable your little pout was, and the way your hands were trembling. He definitely doesn't want to know every tiny detail about your life, what you like and what you hate, what is your favorite position in bed and the color of underwear you are currently wearing – or even if you are wearing one. And he isn’t some sort of creep that would spend an obnoxiously long amount of time registering on social media – god, he is too old for this shit, it literally feels even more humiliating than his whole school experience – just so he can find your accounts and get instant masturbation material. 

You really shouldn’t post so much half-naked photos – yes, this is a reel from your last summer vacation and yes, this swimsuit looks beautiful on you, but have you ever considered that some creep(not someone like him, he is palming himself very respectfully) would use those photos as a way to get themself off? Terrible, scary, he can’t wait for you to post some new photos – maybe in something that he would buy you, way skimpier and more expensive, so he could protect you from those people. 

He looks at your posts about work – and he hates this stupid blue bird app because it never works for him, always filled with some assholes who are trying to argue with literally everyone, and the way he can’t even see your posts properly because of the weird ads. No, he doesn’t need a “Thing that would make your dick longer” he literally has a problem with making it smaller. No, he doesn’t need some dumb T-shirt even though he kinda reflects with the funny pun about pokemons and would love to wear something containing his major interest even though it would look ridiculous on a 6 '10 killing machine. 

But König reads all of your short posts about the way you hate working in customer service, and his hand is almost slipping to the ad about wedding rings. You hate your job, he hates his – practically soulmates, even though he doesn’t really hate the killing part of his employment, he just doesn’t want to be in charge of people and making them steal the fun of destroying. He would, however, agree to get as many ranks as possible if that would mean providing for you. If that would allow him to be by your side and listen to your sweet voice, he would agree for the next promotion even if higher ups would want him to make some PR wawes and become a fucking fashion model. 

But he is completely sane about you. Totally normal. Absolutely nothing is wrong with him when he can’t even think about visiting you in real life, but he leaves a like on every of your posts in every social media he has – you have terrible online safety habits by the way, he can already see what the inside of your apartment looks like, your place of work from three different angles, and how the front door of your apartment is held together by a very easy to destroy lock. He could snatch it in one deliberate kick, not even speaking about just shooting it. Not like he would need to, he wants you to be with him willingly. Or, at least, don’t fight him too much in case he would actually lose his patience and do something drastic. 

It has already been three days and he feels like he is going crazy. He had those things before, overthinking about tiniest details in someone he never truly knew, but even then he’d understand that he can’t be with them – it could be his school crushes that were, ironically, crushed because of his anxiety. It might be some casual flings with his fellow soldiers that would either get killed in the field or never happen because it would be fraternization. Some random people he saw at the airport and already imagined life with multiple kids and a dog. He always knew he had a problem – but it was never like this before. Never dangerous. 

The problem is – he knows that he can have you. 

Maybe not in a traditional way, he doubts that you would just marry him on the spot, but he can court you at least. He can shower you with gifts or ridiculous tips at your job, he can just snatch you away and leave you as his perfect little bedmate. He can make his men kidnap you, and while it is inhumane and you don’t deserve this, he would calm you down – and then have his happily ever after. 

He knows that he can have you – and it drives him crazy. He could stop himself previously, when he didn’t have anything for himself to be considered desirable – but now, with his rank and all the new opportunities and money it brings, he can’t stop but fantasize. 

You under him, panting and blushing, lips puffy from kisses, skin glazed from sweat and marked with his teeth.

You under him, so wonderfully tight, not letting him go even for an inch – and you are perfectly taking him, no matter how gigantic he is. 

You under him, smiling, cuddling after a long night – every night after a mission, where he could spend his free time deep in your body, listening to your melodic moans and little whines. 

You under…

— Can I…can I take your order, sir? 

He is a disgusting human being because lives of thousand people are on a stake, he would just doom them all if he wouldn’t find those terrorists soon – and he wastes time on sitting in this tiny ass cafe, trying to place himself on the small seat while being all too nervous to just talk to you. Like a person. Of course he had to go to your shift – he already determined which days you were working because it increased the number of angry “I hate my job and want to kill my manager” posts on that dumb social media, and he knows which hours you work at – of course it’s almost night time, the closing shift, because he simply can’t have himself not worry about you. 

He is a creep, weirdo and all that words in a song that he’s been blasting in his tiny headphones all of these days because he can smell the sweetness of your perfume and the way you are munching on the pen you are using to write his order. Oh, yes, order. He is supposed to order something, he can’t just give you money for how adorable you look in that white apron – even though you are absolutely stunning and should get money. 

God, he would murder everyone in this building just for them to never look at your legs again. 

God, he would bury himself between them if only you’d allow him to.

— Sir, is everything okay? 

He served in the military for far longer that you lived, probably. Most of his life, he got used to being referred to as something honorable, or referring to other people like that – and he never thought that just being referred to as “sir” would make his dick twitch in his pants. He crosses his legs, hoping not to get too imposing – he already towers over the tiny table like a giant he is, barely even fitting in it. He thinks he has a healthy amount of self-control – then he looks at you again, and thanks all the gods he knows for the mask he is wearing – at least under the black surgeon piece and dark glasses you won’t really see his blush. Or that little twitching in his eyes that is indicating danger. 

— Sorry, I…can I, um, have a coffee? Bitte…please, I mean. 

He hates how nervous he is – like high school again, asking his crush out just to be ridiculed. But you look perfect like this – controlled environment, you can’t just laugh at him and say that he is a weird nerd from another class, you have a manager who is controlling of such behavior. He would never tell on you, of course, he wants you to be happy, even if this job makes you the most miserable – even though he kinda thinks of you as a weak for this, his job literally involves killing people and he doesn't argue that much! 

But you giggle – sweet, innocent sound, it drives him crazy even more than he previously was. It doesn’t feel like those girls at school – yes, he still can’t let that go, even though his therapist says he has to – and he loses all control at how beautiful you sound. He wants to take you away right now, pay you for your workplace however you get them, and just use you as he wants – no matter how socially unacceptable. He protects this country, he has the right for a little prize, right? No, this would be terrible, he shouldn’t just harass sweet little civilians like you, he should…

— What type of coffee, sir? Do you want some dessert? 

This is a typical question, he was at cafes and coffee shops a thousand times but, for some reason, it feels almost like you are teasing him. You bite the end of your pen with those adorable teeth of yours – he wants to feel it on his fingers, he wants you to leave bite marks all over his body as a sign of marking him as yours. He smiles under his mask, hoping that you would somehow feel it – how happy you make him feel, how hard it’s for him not to lose control. 

— No. Just coffee. 

— Sugar? 

He would like some sugar, of course – but the one he wants is probably not for sale, even though that adorable white apron of yours makes you look like a candy. He would love to unwrap you from those silly clothes and devour what belongs to him for the right of protector, but he knows how scared you might be. He is not a good person, he killed more people that he could count – countless fathers, sons, mothers, he shouldn’t even think about having a right for a family of his own after all of this. He is not a good person and his moral code changes with every kill he gets – but for hell sake, he wants to be nice with you. You deserve it, he knows. More than he is, for sure. 

König doesn’t really like sugary stuff, it was always too childish, made him too energetic, disrupted his very peculiar way of eating things. Sweets makes him only more hungry, makes him crave more, and he wants to be as serious as possible – so he usually drinks and eats stuff that is no tastier than a pile of dry sand. But he responds before he can think, too focused on that shiny lipgloss you have on your lips. He would lick and bite it all – soon, he hopes. 

— Ja. Thank you. 

— Good choice, sir.

Your lips are curling into a small, shy smile and he likes sugar now. He isn’t sure if you are telling everyone that their order is a good choice, maybe you just want to get more tips, but he hopes that maybe, he is special. Maybe there is something nice happening to him after all. A small reward for not being a total monster on the last mission he had, even though he could. He can’t do anything but to stare at you, his only saving grace is the dark lenses of his glasses – he can’t wear his hood in civil situations, unfortunately, people would stare, stare, stare and that would make him want to pull their eyes out. 

But you smile and he smiles also, even if you can’t see it. He is looking at your legs and, fuck, he is a disgusting old creature that preys upon younger women because he never had a positive experience before. He is a total creep and a monster that should be put down already – but he stares at your legs under that waitress dress, and he would pay your manager a few thousand Euros to cut the length of your skirt in half. 

Then he sees all the others looking at you the same way – old people, young people, there aren’t a lot of guests at this time in the evening, most people are afraid of going into public places while the war on terrorism is going on. There aren’t a lot of people while it’s almost closing time, but he doesn't even want to think about all the other men looking at you like this. Devouring you with their eyes, probably leaving sleazy comments as you go through the small cafe, just as overworked as your other coworkers. He wants to take you from here. 

You don’t deserve people looking at you like you aren’t even a person – only he can look at you respectfully, stripping you with his eyes. He can be soft for you, can be perfect – if you would just let him. 

König doesn’t want to be a creep around you, but he was looking at your legs for five minutes already, picturing the way your body would look under all of these clothes, and his cock gets painfully hard. He thanks himself for wearing normal, baggy pants, not something tighter – at least his embarrassment is completely covered by his clothes. 

— Here is your coffee. Anything else? 

You look nervous, of course – but he seems way softer than he was a couple days ago, at night. The absence of his creepy mask is obviously helping, and because he is sitting, you don’t have to tilt your head too high, causing your neck to stretch uncomfortably. He looks awkwards, like a big dog that still tries to fit into his old bed, and it causes you to smile a little bit more. You made sure to place a couple of sugar cubes on the plate, so he could decide for himself, if he wants to use them all – but the mere thought of that giant of a man, a colonel, hardened soldier liking something silly and sweet is making you giggle. 

He looks way softer than he was that night, and you can almost forget about how scared you were – how you were thinking that this would be the end for you, that one, overthinking part of your mind already making up the scenarios of getting martial lawed because of the broken curfew. You can even see his hair – and fight the urge to touch it a little. He is still who-knows-how-old and still a military presence in your peaceful country. 

You still want to ruffle his hair. 

He still wants to take your clothes off and make you his. 

— Nein, thank you. 

He stares at the cup for a good few seconds – if he wants to drink, he needs to actually take it off. He has many scars on his face, and his mouth sometimes feels like it has more dead skin than alive one – he doesn’t want to attract attention. Some people are already staring at his badge and how awkward a giant man like him looking in that cozy, tiny place – but he also wants you to see how much pain he can withstand without getting killed. How he can protect you from anything because there literally isn’t anything he won’t do for you. You would appreciate a man with scars, it’s a sign of bravery, right? 

Then he thinks about all the times he would take off his mask and how people around him would look at him – with pity, with fear, with disgust sometimes even though he is certain that his face isn’t as deformed as some other parts of his body. He even almost managed to grow a beard once! Then he had to scrub it all off because hair was growing in very uneven patches and he looked like something crawled on his chin and died. 

König fought in countless battles, spent his youth training to be the best killer possible, took part in many major conflicts and killed hundreds of people while feeling nothing but recoil. He isn’t afraid of anything – except for talking to people sometimes, maybe, and even now he is trying to work on it with his therapist, instead of just killing anyone who looks at him funny. He isn’t afraid of the dark, of death, of uncertainty in his life. But he is afraid of you looking at him unmasked and thinking that you, in fact, find him disgusting. 

You almost want to take your time to look at what he will do – is he going to take off his mask? Is he going to drink right through the fabric? You have too much work to just stay at his table and stare, even if you want to – but you are trying to give him occasional glances as he just…sits at his table. Not even moving, just staring at the cup and sometimes moving his head to look at you – or just ornaments at the wall behind you. Yes, probably the ornament. 

König sits at the table and, well, he doesn’t even want to drink his coffee because just looking at the way your ass sways under that terribly short skirt is enough to set him on fire. He wants to take you home with him – even though his home is all the way up in Austria. He would take you, you probably wouldn’t even be mad at you – you could be a perfect little family. He already waited too long to start one, never finding anyone who would win his heart for a long run but he was sure that this three-days-obsession would last long. He isn’t sure, however, if he likes it or not. 

He ended up not drinking at all – he knows that he can’t just waste multiple hours, he already got his lieutenants covering the spot with paper work while their commander is away at searching for the love of his life. He wants to be with you longer, probably walk you home again and make sure to protect you from any creeps that would want to attack. He can’t have that, it’s obvious – he is a colonel, unfortunately, he is still on the hunt for those terrorists, he can barely give himself an hour of free time these days. 

He already indulged in his fantasies too much when he folds a 100 Euros banknote and puts it into the bill – not sure about how much money it is here, not wanting to give you any trouble with exchanging currency, he just hopes that would be enough for you to at least not worry about food for a few days. Or buy yourself something nice – what girls like these days? Guns, books, some fancy lip gloss, a hat for their adorable little turtles? He would buy you a pet turtle, he always wanted one as a kid – right before his father said that all lizards are products of sinful corporations and a lazy pet like a turtle, unlike a giant dog breed, is completely useless and unmanly. 

He doesn’t want to be here when you’ll get the bill – he is too afraid that he didn’t gave you enough, that you'd be disappointed. He would love to give you more, of course, but he doesn’t want to just shove you the money like you are some sort of cheap whore – he wants to give you gifts, something meaningful, to steal you from poverty altogether. König is an expert in infiltration and escaping arts, he can exit the location without anyone noticing a thing, even with his size – and then you look at him, directly into his eyes, covered by sunglasses – and your face is twisted in shock as you realize what exactly he left you. 

— Wait, sir! Please, I…god, I will get you the change right now, I’m so sorry, it’s closing shift, I…I’m sorry, I completely forgot…

You are almost begging him to stop and let you give him his money, a honorable deed really – but all he can think of is how nice you would look on your knees, begging him to fuck you already. How perfect you would look all whiny and spoiled, asking him for something expensive, whatever your cute head would want. You would look so complete on his lap, tugging on his shirt and asking your daddy for a new toy. You would…

— It was a tip. Take it. 

He wants to be able to tell you how perfect you look, how he wants to just throw you over his shoulder in a totally non-creepy way and make you his little wifey. How he would take multiple months of leave to just be with you, marry you, breed you. He wants to have a way with words, but they are useless to him – he can’t even say he likes you, it’s embarrassing, he is almost forty, he got his rank as youngest colonel in history of KorTac, he can literally have almost everything he wants – except for basic social skills. 

He feels like a creep, an old man trying to steal that perfect girl from the shiny world, and he hates himself for it – but then you blush and he can almost convince himself that yeah, you like that creep too. 

— I…shit, I mean, sorry…thank you, sir. 

— Don’t wander at night again. 

He feels like a scolding father and you giggle again, too innocent and naive to understand his thoughts. 

— I won’t. Promise. 

He then slowly leans closer, puts a hand on your shoulder again – goosebumps are running on your skin. His head is near yours now, he is whispering in your ear – and you are almost sure that you shouldn’t have come closer to him like this, that it’s unprofessional from your side, that everyone is staring at you. They are – and you try to ignore it, but…

— Wear shorts under your skirt next time. Never know who might look at your legs like that. 

You would slap him here and there. You would scream and run away right now, but for some stupid, dumb, completely terrifying reason, you…almost like how protective he sounds. And the money he gave you is also helping – even if just a little bit. 

König looks at the way you blush even more, and he knows already that he won’t ever let you go. 

Tag list: @iwritesjud3

Please write if you want to be tagged in the next chapter!

[seineko]

minors do not interact!

if there was something that diluc found absolutely alluring about you, it would be your neck. not that you as a whole weren't alluring to him by any means.

but seriously, his obsession with shoving his face into it whenever you're around is a bit concerning.

if his day went well, the first thing he does after coming home is pull you into his arms and let out a satisfied sigh into the crook of your neck.

if his day went bad, he would not eat before snuggling his face deep between the path that connects your shoulders with your neck, letting you caresses his scalp tenderly.

if he didn't do anything during the day, he most often than not wants to be babied. so, if you feel a pout - a slight movement of his lips which, for diluc, is as good as a full blown pout - you know what he wants. (you did not hear that from me though, diluc ragnvindr does not want to be babied).

if he finds you cooking in the kitchen, his arms snake around your neck and his nose digs up space for his head to settle into. once, it led you to burn a chicken strip so much, it was impossible to distinguish it from a burnt piece of wood. a diluc who was fresh out of shower and only in his trousers was very bad for both your sanity and your kitchen.

if he finds you reading a book on the couch, he tends to sit on his knees and push his head as deep as he can to get a better smell of your scent and the book's. mostly yours.

you get it. his day doesn't feel complete unless he has you caged in his arms while caging his own face into your neck.

but nothing even came close to the feeling of utter ecstasy when he leaves a trail of kisses on each and every inch of your throat as he ruins you with such sweetness, it would've had your teeth aching if not for how far gone your ability to comprehend your surroundings was.

nothing can ever have him as feral as biting into every bit of the skin your neck and shoulder has to offer. while he tries his very best - but utterly fails - to not have himself climax inside you.

nothing can ever make him as satisfied as sucking and licking the places he bit into, to soothe the pain (and that is definitely not an excuse to have his mouth on your throat for just a bit longer).

and nothing can ever make him feel as much pride - and equal parts embarrassment - as he watches you stroll around mondstadt, not even trying to cover up the newly formed hickeys all that biting had left behind.

©2023 by seineko @ tumblr

[recareels]

gmorning Clari!!! 💘 I’m not sure you’ve done it before, but I’d loooove to know what type of yanderes you’d classify your genshin faves as 😘

ANDYYYY i am so sorry i am responding a few days late to this and that’s because i accidentally wrote you a whole novel for an answer :) your ask sparked so many thoughts and i just BLAAAH spewed them all over the page (*ﾉωﾉ) ugh ahahaha ANYWAY oh gosh okay i have so much to say, let’s get into it!!! also apologies for how MASSIVE ajax’s is waaaah

characters: wriothesley, ajax [childe], kamisato ayato, thoma warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, yandere behaviour (gaslighting, obsessiveness, toxic relationships, delusional thinking, manipulation, over-protectiveness, etc) words: 2.1k

₊˚⊹ 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐲

WRIOTHESLEY is the controlling, authoritarian type that feels like a really strict father, all under the guise of ‘protecting you’ and ‘keeping you safe’. he veers into delusional territory a little here because he genuinely believes what he’s telling you (and himself) and genuinely believes himself to be doing the right thing. he isn’t possessive, he just wants to make sure you’re going out with safe people. he isn’t obsessive, he just wants to know where you are at all times in case an emergency strikes and he has to come find you. he isn’t overbearing, he just cares and is proactive—don’t you want him to care? can’t you see he’s only this ‘protective’ because he loves you? 

he has thoroughly convinced himself that this behaviour has nothing to do with jealousy or a desire to keep you locked up, to keep you 100% certainly safe and his forever, and nothing to do with wanting to exert complete control over you, orchestrating your every decision—and he’s pretty good at continuously deluding himself into believing it. he’s so good, in fact, and his logic is so sound, that it has YOU wondering if you’re ‘just being crazy’, if you’re overthinking things or reading too much into them. wriothesley has had a lot taken away from him, after all, and he knows exactly how the mind of criminals tick—can you really blame him for being a bit paranoid? maybe you’re the one who’s overreacting and being unreasonable. maybe you’re even feeling a little guilty for being so ungrateful—shouldn’t you appreciate having someone who loves and cares for you this much to go to such extents? shouldn’t you want to relinquish all power to someone you love equally as much? shouldn’t you trust him to make only the best, most sound and appropriate decisions for you? you probably should. 

₊˚⊹ 𝐚𝐣𝐚𝐱

AJAX is kind of like, the typical yandere, and he encompasses several ‘types’, evolving throughout the course of your relationship and shapeshifting into different variants depending on the situation itself. and while the other three men seem normal until you’re in too deep with them, refraining from showing symptoms of yandere-ness until after you’ve been with them for an extended period of time and mean a lot to them, ajax is weird from the very beginning. 

almost immediately you can sense that there’s something slightly off about him, but you can’t put your finger on what it is. it’s so subtle that it doesn’t strike you as particularly dangerous, leading you to merely write it off as one of his quirks and nothing more. 

he’s overbearing right from the start, of course; not necessarily enough to be concerning just yet, but enough for it to be abnormal—unusual—and noticeable (which reminds me of your lil ajax piece!!!). from the instant he sees you, he is irreversibly obsessed with you. you permeate his every waking thought, and eventually begin to leak into his dreams, too, and suddenly he can barely breathe without knowing where you are and what you’re doing, his concentration consumed by you. 

he begins stalking you—‘overseeing’, he had called it—making detailed notes of your favourite locations and your most frequented friends. he’s constantly got an eye on you one way or another, even if he has to employ other people to do it for him, discreetly reporting their findings every few hours. he tells them you’re in danger—which, you are, technically—and that you must be observed at all times from afar, silently and stealthily. 

ajax is patient and he can play the waiting game, carefully devising and then revising his strategy based on your moves. he loves playing predator and prey, gets a thrill from how the hunt unfolds—much like a battle, it’s a story, a rich tapestry you and he are constantly and concurrently creating, together. and that he thinks is so beautiful.

in textbook yandere fashion, once he’s gathered a sufficient amount of intel, he begins ‘showing up’ randomly at your usual spots, ‘bumping into you’ fortuitously. charming and sweet, the only thing that’s initially unsettling is just how well the two of you get along. ajax is sure not to mimic you too much—he doesn’t want to be a mirror, after all, and being too similar is far from a good thing (especially when it matches so well it simply can’t be coincidental).

well—that, and the sharp glint in his eye that flares with something dangerous every time you giggle or gush, every time you fall further for him. and once he has you enchanted, ensnared, you’re trapped for life, tangled up in him so tightly that he might as well have fused to your flesh. 

ajax likes to tell you it isn’t about power and control, but he knows that it is. he’s smart, and he’s self aware, and he doesn’t really care if this is ‘wrong’—he sees it as necessary and he genuinely believes he knows better than you do. he has to take care of you, or else who will? you’re clearly not capable of satisfactorily doing it on your own, so he must (god, how would you manage without him?). even if you oppose him or fight back against him, he’s purely convinced you’re bull-headed and stubborn, snorting at your wanting to be independent when he truly knows you’re too stupid take care of yourself ‘properly’ all on your own.

violence is a mainstay of your relationship, but not towards you; never towards you—merely towards everyone around you. his jealousy knows no bounds, but you will rarely see it outright. instead, ajax prefers to hone his emotions, to fashion them into a weapon or use them as fuel to thoroughly tear apart anyone who looks your way in a manner he doesn’t like. it’s his job as your lover and keeper, isn’t it? 

₊˚⊹ 𝐤𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐲𝐚𝐭𝐨

AYATO knows what he is, and he doesn’t care. why should he, when he’s sure what he’s doing is ultimately correct and he’s used to having everything that he wants, and everything going his way, even if he has to force/manipulate it to? he’s so skilled at that in particular—manipulating situations and events to procure favourable outcomes for himself. in ayato’s mind, you should be grateful that he affords you so many freedoms—he could lock you away in the basement or a padded room, chain you to a bed with no entertainment or stimulation save for the books he has so conscientiously selected for you, and no other human contact aside from himself. but he trusts you, and he doesn’t want to go to those measures (though rest assured, he has promised you he will not hesitate to reach such heights if he deems it absolutely necessary, no matter how much he doesn’t want to; you staying his comes before his personal preferences and pleasures). as such, he allows you to roam the estate grounds under the watchful eye of his closest confidants and most capable guards (usually thoma, unless he is otherwise occupied and busy); he allows you access to letter writing materials (though they must go through two rounds of supervision and revisions before they are approved; once by thoma, and once by ayato himself); he allows you to go out in public as long as you are with him, etc. 

despite these apparent freedoms he affords you, he still picks your outfits out for you each day, and he devises a comprehensive meal plan for you each week, and creates schedules and rules he expects you to follow, thoroughly and meticulously to the letter. it is these subtle forms of ownership that he enjoys the most. he doesn’t feel the need to shout from the mountaintops, loudly and aggressively, that you are his, because the fact is so obvious, so evident, the second anyone merely glances at you. you walk like him, you talk like him, you sit, stand, and bow like him, just like he trained you to. 

ayato is also the type of yandere to punish you. he is molding your pretty little mind into exactly what he wants it to be, and that means that undesirable behaviours must be immediately and severely corrected through appropriate punishments—you must learn, or be taught what is right and what is wrong in ayato terms + definitions, so you will refrain from repeating such behaviour in the future. he is truly crafting you into the most perfect, precious, obedient little doll—and having a blast while doing so. it’s his little pet passion project, in a way; something he looks forward to working on when he has a moment of spare time. 

ayato was sly and clever with the way he initially enticed you, entrapped you, but underneath his cool, precisely chiseled exterior, ayato is selfish, manipulative, and extremely controlling. all decisions are ultimately made by and go through him. he will skillfully and carefully cut you off from all lifelines and communication, rendering you wholly dependent on him, and then will meticulously chip away at your mind until he sculpts it into exactly what he desires—someone who is as obsessed with him as he is with them. he slowly, stealthily, and steadily induces a severe, irreversible case of stockholm syndrome. the damage he does to your mind is permanent—and that’s exactly his goal. you now live for him. your days are marked by his appearances, his comings and goings, and the only thing you have to look forward to is seeing + spending time with him. you live to please him, live to be with him, and become absorbed by him, so you are merely an extension of him and no longer an individual yourself. everything revolves around ayato—he is your entire universe. 

₊˚⊹ 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐚

THOMA is the most dangerous type of yandere, because thoma is genuine. thoma’s feelings are 100% authentic—and he earnestly intends to bring you no harm whatsoever—they’re just way too intense. he loves you so much that it veers into insanity, and the passion he feels towards you (and towards keeping you safe + claiming you as his) is so fierce that it physically hurts him to experience, chest blistering with scorching adoration and razored affection, something so dense and so all-consuming that thoma wants to claw through his own flesh and pry his ribcage apart spoke by spoke just so he can experience a shred of relief. 

thoma is, for the most part, an honest guy—starkly, brashly honest, so honest it shatters his words and gnaws at his voice, leaving it rough and raw, splintered to shards; but you can always trust he says exactly what he means. he severely lacks self awareness, not even realizing that his behaviour is inappropriate and extreme (he just cares about you SO much! it blinds his rationale and erodes his logic, incapacitating his ability to understand that he’s so suffocating it borders on terrifying). 

but what makes thoma so incredibly perilous is his sincerity. he truly just wants to keep you safe, eyes brimming with tears and voice hitching on barely contained emotion as he thoroughly explains to you his logic for stashing tracking devices in your bags or his reasoning for shattering the kneecaps of the man who made you uncomfortable at work, sentiment thick in his throat, words straining with the weight of his honesty, with the desperation for you to understand, to see it his way. he swears to the high heavens that he’d never hurt a single hair on your pretty, precious little head, and promises that he doesn’t want to scare you, but firmly asserts that he will do whatever it takes to keep you safe. 

and he means it. thoma is, in the most essential sense, your guard dog. he’s so sweet towards you, even submissive at times, always subservient to your every wish and whim, your every demand and desire, but he’ll fucking rip anyone within a meter of you to pieces with his teeth and bare hands alone if he feels as though you are being threatened in any way—and his standards and definition of ‘threatened’ are extreme and absurd, of course, causing him to react in a way that is severely disproportionate to the situation.

it borders on too much all the time—he is too obsessive, too protective, too clingy, but he’s also so sweet, so gentle, so incredibly bonafide that you can’t help but not be upset with him. he only does what he does because you’re his entire world, right? what’s so harmful about that? 

[exhaslo]

Hello exhaslo! I was wondering if you could write something for me🥺

I had this idea in my head for a while. ( Don't mind my English, it's my second language-) Soo can you write about Psycho Miguelx shyreader? I want to see miguel stalk reader, obsessed over reader, steal her clothes or panties for "whatever" purpose.. watching her sleep like a psycho- you know-

Until one point he kidnap and locked her up. Torture her but he still love her like a crazy obsession (dark scene maybe). He would try to be good to her (like try to bath and feed her) but she's just doesn't cooperate and miguel piss off easily.

If you do write it pls tag mee? This is my first ever request in thumbler. (I don't know how this app works) 🕴️

Hello! Hello!! Gotta love me some crazy Miguel. I'd feel like after a while a shy reader would give into the psycho bc they'd be too scared to escape. Maybe like Stockholm Syndrome?

I believe you will already receive a notification since I'm replying to your request, not quite sure how it works either, haha.

Warning: MINORS DNI, Smut, stalking, kidnapping, p in v, Stockholm syndrome, abuse, will try and make this as not concerning as possible, but if you remotely are not comfortable with any of these topics then I highly suggest avoiding

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

Spiderman is a hero! Spiderman does nothing wrong! Spiderman will help the citizens of Nueva York! Spiderman! Spiderman! Spiderman!

"Silence." Miguel hissed lowly.

It was a quiet night aside from the constant voices that reminded Miguel of his responsibility. The annoyance that he had to burden himself with and live to those standards. So many people treated him like a God. Everyone worshiped him, but none of them were willing to give him what he wanted.

At least, until you came along.

Miguel sat against a building, watching you leave work. It was only a short while ago that you started to work for Alchemax. You were a ray of sunshine in Miguel's life. He had to have you for himself. A beautiful, shy angel who just moved into the city.

His angel.

Miguel had already approached you at work, revealing to be the kind coworker to help you with anything. He wanted to start off well, at least the side that he was going to show you. Afterwards, he was going to find out everything about you as Spiderman.

"She lives so close to me," Miguel whispered, watching you enter a building.

His eyes sparkled as he followed your sweet scent up the floors. Once you stopped and entered your apartment, Miguel nearly groaned at the sight. He watched from the window as you stripped and prepared for a shower. Such a clueless beauty.

"She left her window unlocked for me," He whispered, entering your apartment.

You were humming quietly to yourself as you showered. Such a soft and low voice that should only be for him. Miguel would listen to you forever, but he didn't want you to catch onto him, yet. Grabbing your panties, Miguel inhaled towards you scent, groaning lowly.

"H-H-Hello?! I-Is...Is anyone there?!" You squeaked, turning the water off.

Miguel cussed to himself, quickly fleeing the scene. He stuffed your panties in his pocket and watched as you hesitantly stepped out of the bathroom with nothing but a towel and a bottle of shampoo. How cute. Like that was going to stop him.

"P-Please...I-If anyone is...is there...I-I don't have anything." You cried, shaking in fear.

Miguel resisted a chuckle. You had everything. You were everything. Miguel was going to have you for himself. He just needed to wait for the right time.

-------

"I-It was so scary! I-I really thought someone broke in!" You cried your eyes out at work towards Miguel.

"Don't cry, amor (love)." Miguel whispered, wiping your tears away with his thumb. You sniffed, staring at your wonderful coworker,

"S-Sorry...I...I just...I didn't expect this...I'm new to the city...and...and I just..." You felt your lips quiver as you tried to think, "A-Also, my underwear disappeared...m-maybe my apartment is haunted!"

"I'm sure you just misplaced them," Miguel lied knowing full well that your panties were now covered in his cum, "It could be the stress of moving to a large city. It will take some time to...adapt," He whispered, patting your head.

You rubbed your eyes, smiling brightly towards Miguel. He was just a nice coworker and good looking too. You were happy to have gotten close to him during your stay here. Thanking Miguel again for letting you vent, you pecked his cheek before hurrying off to work.

Miguel just smiled wickedly as he watched your scurry off. Those hips of yours just begging to be grabbed by him. Your soft voice just waiting to cry his name out. Miguel needed more of you. He had to have more of you.

---------

There he was again, outside your window, watching you walk around your place half naked. Oh, how tempting you were. His shy little angel just walking around in nothing but your panties. You were just asking him to go in there and fuck you.

Miguel decided to leave your clothes alone today, for he had something else in plan. He waited for you to fall into a deep slumber before entering the apartment. His eyes sparkled brightly as he saw you clearly in the dark.

"Oh, my lovely (Y/N)," Miguel whispered, stroking your naked body, "I know you must be dreaming of me,"

"Mhm~" You shifted slightly in your sleep.

Miguel hummed quietly as he started to stroke his dick beside your bed. He wanted to touch you, but he was afraid of waking you. Miguel had to be patient. Resisting a moan, Miguel kept pumping his dick to the sight of you sleeping. Oh how he wanted to see you wrapped around him.

"Fuck," Miguel whispered as he cummed over your body.

He sighed softly in relief before cleaning you up. He didn't want you getting anymore scared and locking your windows. Once you were cleaned, Miguel swiped the panties you were wearing and left to finish relieving himself at home.

---------

"I-I don't know what to...to do. I-I've never been asked out before," You whispered, hiding in Miguel's lab.

It had been another week of your panties going missing and you were officially scared. The last two nights you had stayed at a coworker's place, wanting to sleep easy. This made Miguel angry. He couldn't find you and now someone had the nerve to confess to you?

"M-Miguel? A-Are you okay? I...I can come ba-"

"I'm fine, just haven't slept well these past two nights." He told you. You slowly approached him, stroking the bags under his eyes,

"Oh, Miggy. I'm sorry! I-I've been ranting this whole time while y-you're this tired!" You whined softly. Miguel grabbed your hands, kissing them softly,

"Dios Mio (My god), you make me want to steal you away, (Y/N)." Miguel whispered, watching you grow flustered, "Will you let me do that?"

You squeaked, feeling your cheeks grow hot. Honestly, you weren't expecting that from Miguel. Yes, you liked him a lot, but this was straight up flirting. Trying to hide your face from embarrassment, you just smiled, wanting to play along.

"S-Sure," You said sweetly.

--------

You whimpered lowly as you slowly felt yourself come to your senses. You vaguely recalled what happened before you lost consciousness. It was time for you to clock out and you saw Miguel waiting for you. He offered you a ride and then you knocked out.

Rubbing your eyes, you looked around and noticed that you were in an unfamiliar bedroom. Tears started to form as your heart raced in fear. Even your clothes were changed. You were wearing a long night gown.

"M-Miguel...A-Are you there?" You cried softly.

Crawling off the bed, you gasped as you felt something tied to your foot. You whimpered, spotting the cozy chains that held your ankles in place with a long chain connected to the bed.

"(Y/N), you're awake." Miguel hummed as he entered the room with a tray of food, "I brought you dinner."

"M-Miguel...I-I'm scared..."

"Shh, it's okay, baby. I know, but it's all going to be okay now. You did give me permission to take you away after all." He said with a sadistic smirk. You trembled slightly,

"I-I thought...y-you were just...just flirting..." You tried your best not to cry, "M-Miggy, p-please...I'm scared."

"I'm going to take good care of you, (Y/N)"

Miguel placed the tray to the side and crawled onto the bed. He pulled you closer to him and captured your lips into a forceful and deep kiss. You were shaking as you tried to push him away, but he was too strong for you.

You whimpered as Miguel's tongue ravished the inside of your mouth. His hands holding your wrists in place as his body pinned you to the bed. You were terrified. The man you thought who cared for you was a psychopath.

"You taste just as sweet as your panties," Miguel whispered, pulling you onto his lap and grabbed the tray.

"W-Wait...y-you took...h-how?"

"Ah, since you're going to be my wife, I suppose you should know. I'm Spiderman. I've been watching you, making sure no harm came to my beautiful wife,"

"H-Huh!?"

Your face turned bright red at the thought. This whole time it was Miguel who snuck into your place and stole your underwear. Now, he had stolen you. Trying to free yourself, you whimpered as Miguel forced you back into his lap. You cried, feeling his bulge press into your ass.

"Don't cry, eat. You need your energy."

"N-No! I want...I want to go home!"

"You are home!" Miguel yelled.

Sighing heavily, Miguel watched as you shook in fear and covered your ears. He moved the tray away and turned you around to face him. He wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his head in the crook of your neck. You were crying. Shaking in his arms.

"I won't ever hurt you, (Y/N). I promise to take care of you." He whispered.

--------

It had been a week since you were held hostage by Miguel. Each day he brought more of your stuff to his place, wanting you to feel comfortable. You couldn't forgive him though, but you were too scared to disobey him.

You poked your head out of your room, spotting the front door open. Miguel had placed an ankle bracelet on you, but that couldn't stop you from trying to escape and getting someone to break the device. You just needed to be fast.

Hurrying towards the door, you yelped as you got yanked back. You cried as webs locked your arms behind your back. Miguel approached you, bending you over the living room table,

"Oh, (Y/N), why are you trying to leave?" He asked, pretending to sound hurt.

"M-Miguel...I...I..." You knew better than to lie.

"I'm going to have to give you a punishment."

Tears rolled down your cheeks as you felt Miguel tear your panties off. You begged him to forgive you, but Miguel had already started to grope your ass. You trembled and whimpered as you felt his fingers rub your folds.

"I know you love me, (Y/N), you're just confused right now." Miguel whispered in your ear as he started to pump his fingers into your pussy.

You gasped and whimpered, trying to distract your brain. Miguel's thick fingers were stretching your pussy out, making your body grow hotter with each pump. You cried out a moan as his fingers curled and rubbed your gummy walls.

"See, look how wet you are. Just stop trying to lie to yourself."

"M-Miguel," You whimpered, your face pressed against the table, "I-I'm scared."

"Shh, you'll feel so much better after this. Honestly, it isn't even a punishment, baby."

Miguel chuckled darkly as he pumped his fingers faster into you. Your juices spilling against his fingers and onto the table. You cried, arching you back as you cam against his fingers. Miguel hummed to the sound of your moans and your throbbing pussy.

"Good girl,"

You panted heavily, shaking from your high. You yelped as you felt Miguel grab your hips and something thick poke your hole. You tried to raise your head, but Miguel pushed you back down. He lifted your hips and shoved his dick inside you.

"Ah! M-Miguel! S-Stop!" You cried, taken back from the pain.

Miguel slapped your ass as he pounded your poor cunt. Groans and moans escaped his throat as he finally enjoyed the feeling of his dick inside you. Your tight gummy walls sucking him in so much. The sounds of your bodies slapping against each other. Everything about his moment made him horny.

"Fuck, (Y/N), I've been waiting for this. You feel so fucking good. Your pussy just loves my dick. You're doing so good." He rambled, slapping his hips into yours harsher.

"A-Ah~ M-Mig~ W-Wait...I-I'm d-dizzy~" You moaned out.

"You're doing so well, baby. Just relax for me,"

You whimpered lowly as you felt your mind grow hazy. His dick was thrusting so deep inside you that you swore his tip kissed your cervix. Your body shook and trembled as it grew hotter. Another knot forming as you felt the pain turn into pleasure.

"Mhm~ M-Miggy~" You cried out, feeling your orgasm approaching.

You wanted to hate this. You wanted to, but you couldn't deny that deep down before he kidnaped you, you wanted this. Before Miguel showed his true colors, you liked him a lot. You weren't sure if it was your past emotions and feelings, but you were giving into him.

"Good girl, such a fucking good girl," Miguel groaned as you cam against his dick, "See? Already used to me."

Miguel inhaled to the sound of your moans and sobs. He grunted as he slapped his dick deeper into you, filling your womb. He let out a sigh of relief before removing the webbing from your hands. He flipped you over, enjoying your fucked out expression.

"I'm not done with you, baby. I'm going to show you how much I love you."

--------

It had been a year since Miguel kidnapped you. You weren't sure when, but eventually you gave in to him. Miguel was only trying to protect you after all. You were just being unreasonable. He loved you so much and you finally shared that love.

"M-Miguel, W-Welcome home...I...I made you dinner." You whispered shyly, gripping the bottom of your new night gown he bought you.

"(Y/N), how was my beautiful wife today?" Miguel hummed, taking off his mask and picking you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist,

"I missed you," You whispered, kissing him sweetly, "Miggy, can you stay home tomorrow? I...I'm a little lonely."

"Of course. I know just how to spend the day tomorrow."

Miguel smirked as you cheered, hugging him. He stole your lips in a passionate kiss, enjoying your submissiveness. It took some time, but he was glad that you finally saw what he was trying to do. Miguel knew that you loved him.

You were just too shy to admit it yet.

"Why don't we start tomorrow's plan now?"

You squeaked, covering your face as Miguel tore your panties again. Miguel chuckled lowly as he spent no time abusing your cunt with his dick. He was going to make sure that you weren't lonely anymore. What better way than to impregnate you?

"C'mon baby, tell me what you want." Miguel hummed as he slapped his hips into yours.

"Y-You! M-Miguel, I want you!!"

"That's right. You're mine."

And Miguel was never going to let you go.

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

Haha, kind of got a little worried with how dark I was going to make this. I hope this met your expectations!!

[jetii]

Too Sweet

Part One | Part Three | Part Four

Pairing: Fox x fem!Reader / Fox x Doctor!Reader

Words: 6,162/26,525

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! fluff, strangers to lovers, grumpy/sunshine, Fox is a little anxious/paranoid, and he needs a hug, lots of awkward flirting in this part, smut in part 4

Summary: Fox has no time for romance. He doesn't even have time for sleep, let alone dates. But when a horrible day at work leads him to you, he suddenly finds himself in danger of reevaluating his priorities.

A/N: Okay, I think I have the rest of this fic pretty much set, except for the final edits to the smut. Part 3 will be up on Wednesday and part 4 next Sunday!

Previous Work | Next Work | Masterlist

A week passes, and the wound in his shoulder heals without any complications. There's no need to see you again, and Fox is relieved. The more time that passes, the easier it is to forget about the interaction, and he soon manages to put it out of his mind entirely. He’s far too busy to dwell on things that don’t matter, and he has better things to focus on.

He still thinks about you, though.

It’s hard not to. He passes GMF every day, and sometimes he finds himself staring at the building wondering if you're working. You'd seemed to enjoy your job, and he finds himself hoping that you're doing okay. But then he reminds himself that it's none of his business, and he walks away.

Another week goes by, and the stitches dissolve, leaving nothing but a faint scar. Fox isn't sure how to feel about it. It's not the first scar he's gotten, and he doubts it'll be the last, but for some reason, he can't stop looking at it. It's strange. The wound was minor, and the injury is no longer bothering him, but there's something about the scar that intrigues him.

He doesn't like it.

It's a reminder of his failure, and the fact that he had been injured by a common criminal. It was embarrassing, and the fact that he still remembers your smile only makes it worse. It shouldn't have happened, and he was supposed to be better than that. He was supposed to be the best, and a scratch like this should have never occurred.

He spends his days obsessing over the incident, trying to figure out where he went wrong. There had to be a way to avoid a repeat performance, and he's determined to find it. The new security system has arrived, and he throws himself into his work, spending hours studying the plans and the documentation. He ignores his brothers' concerns and pushes himself harder than ever before, refusing to accept anything less than perfection.

After a week, he's finally satisfied, and he announces the changes to the Senate guards. He receives several confused looks, but no one questions his orders. He's the commander, after all, and if he wants things a certain way, that's the way they're going to be. It doesn't matter what the others think, as long as the job gets done.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"What do you mean?" Fox asks, looking up from his datapad to find Thorn standing in the doorway, a scowl on his face.

"Don't give me that."

"What's the problem?"

"The problem is you," Thorn says, pointing at him. "You've turned the Senate building into a fortress."

"So?"

"You've doubled the number of guard patrols," Thorn continues. "We've already had to reroute half the traffic, and people are getting mad. You can't just keep making these changes without talking to us first."

"It's my job," Fox says, his voice cold. "And you're not in charge, I am."

"Don't pull rank on me," Thorn snaps.

"Then don't question my decisions."

Thorn glares at him, his expression hard. He's clearly angry, but Fox doesn't care. He's doing his job, and his brother doesn't have the right to tell him how to do it. He's the one who has to answer for the safety of the Chancellor, and he's not about to let Thorn interfere.

"What's gotten into you?" he asks, his shoulders dropping, and the anger in his voice is tempered by concern. "You're acting weird."

"I'm not," Fox says, frowning.

"You are," Thorn insists. He steps into the room and shuts the door behind him. "I know we don't see eye-to-eye all the time, but something's up with you."

"There's nothing wrong," Fox says, his tone flat. He looks back down at the datapad, hoping that Thorn will take the hint and leave. There’s already a new message from the Chancellor, and he wants to get started on his report.

"You've been acting weird ever since that incident," Thorn says.

"What incident?" Fox asks, not looking up.

"The knife attack.”

"There were lots of knife attacks," Fox says, his voice flat. "You're going to have to be more specific."

“The one where you got stabbed, di’kut. It was two weeks ago, remember? When we had to go to GMF—“ Thorn stops abruptly, his eyes widening.

"What?" Fox snaps. He doesn't like the look on Thorn's face. It's the same expression he gets when he's solved a case, and it never means anything good. "What is it?"

"I just realized something."

"Realized what?" Fox asks, his patience running thin. He's tired and hungry, and the last thing he wants to deal with is another of Thorn's conspiracy theories.

"Why didn't I think of this sooner?" Thorn says, ignoring him, and he chuckles to himself. He walks over to the window and looks out, his expression thoughtful. "It's so obvious."

"Thorn—"

“This is about the doctor, isn’t it?”

Fox stiffens, and he stares at Thorn, his mouth falling open. He hadn't expected his brother to be so blunt, and the question catches him off guard.

"What?"

"Don't play dumb," Thorn says, giving him a look. "You've been obsessed with that incident ever since it happened, and I know for a fact that you've been avoiding the medical center."

"No, I haven't."

"Yes, you have," Thorn counters. "I've seen you turn around three times when we've walked past it, and you keep finding excuses not to go there."

"I'm not avoiding anything," Fox grumbles. He knows that Thorn isn't going to drop the subject until he answers, and he lets out a sigh, setting down his datapad. "It's not about the doctor. It's about the injury."

"I don't buy it."

"You don't have to."

"Fine," Thorn says, crossing his arms. He looks at Fox for a moment, his gaze scrutinizing, and then lets out a breath. "But for the record, I think you're being an idiot."

"So you've said."

"Yeah, well, maybe you'll listen this time."

"I doubt it," Fox mutters, and he picks up the datapad again. The screen is blank, and he taps at the controls, trying to remember where he'd left off.

"Why are you so set on torturing yourself?" Thorn asks. His voice is quiet, and the question takes Fox by surprise. He looks up at his brother, frowning, and he sees that Thorn is watching him with a worried expression. "You can't keep going like this, Fox."

"I'm fine."

"No, you're not," Thorn says. He walks over to the desk and sits down in the chair across from Fox, his elbows resting on the surface. "You're working yourself to death, and it's not going to make a difference."

"It will," Fox insists. "If we can—"

"It won't," Thorn interrupts. "I know you're worried about the Chancellor, but he's not going to disappear overnight. He's not in any more danger now than he was a week ago."

"We can't afford to let our guard down," Fox says, his voice strained. "You know that."

"I do." Thorn nods. "But you can't keep going like this. At least take a break. Go to a bar. Relax."

"There's too much work to do."

"I'll cover for you."

Fox sighs and looks down at the datapad again, the words blurring together. He can't focus, and the report isn't going to get done anytime soon. Thorn is right, as much as he hates to admit it. He's been working too hard, and it's starting to take a toll. But the thought of stopping makes his chest tighten, and he feels a surge of anxiety. If he stops, what's going to happen? What if something goes wrong, and he's not there to stop it? What if—

"Fox."

"Yeah," he says, letting out a shaky breath.

"Just take the rest of the night off." Thorn leans forward and gently pries the datapad from Fox's fingers. "You need to rest."

"Fine," Fox says, and he feels his shoulders slump.

"Good."

"But not a word of this to the others," he warns.

"I won't." Thorn smirks and stands up, walking over to the door. "Just promise me you'll try and have a little fun, okay? No matter how boring you think it is."

"Yeah, yeah."

Thorn leaves, and Fox lets out a sigh, sinking into his chair. He rests his head in his hands, rubbing his temples, and closes his eyes. The darkness is soothing, and he lets out a slow breath, trying to calm his nerves.

He's been feeling off for a while now, and the conversation with Thorn had only made things worse. The stress is starting to get to him, and he knows that he needs a break. But the thought of stepping away from the office, even for a moment, fills him with a sense of dread. He's afraid that something will happen, and he'll be too far away to stop it. But deep down, he knows that Thorn is right. He can't keep going like this. Something's got to give.

Fox’s stomach growls, painfully reminding him that he hasn't eaten all day. The sound snaps him out of his thoughts, and he looks up, blinking. He's been sitting here for hours, and the sun has gone down. It's late, and his body is screaming for food and sleep.

He stands up and stretches, his back popping, and heads for the door. The mess hall at the barracks has long since closed, and his stomach grumbles again, louder this time. He sighs and runs a hand through his hair, wondering if there's a ration bar left in his locker. Probably not. Maybe if he takes a walk, he can find something. There's bound to be a 24-hour café open somewhere, and if he’s lucky, they'll have something edible. He hasn't eaten actual food in weeks, and the thought of having something hot and fresh is almost too tempting to resist.

He steps out of his office and makes his way down the corridor, passing the rows of empty desks and abandoned terminals. Thorn’s office light is still on, and when Fox passes by, his brother gives him a thumbs up and a smile. Fox rolls his eyes, and he keeps walking, his feet carrying him down the stairs and towards the exit.

The night air is cool and refreshing, and he takes a deep breath, letting the chill seep into his bones. The streetlights are on, and the traffic has thinned, but the city is still bustling with activity. People are milling about, and he can see a few clusters of troopers on patrol. It's a familiar sight, and it brings him some comfort. At least here, he knows what to expect.

He walks for a few blocks, keeping his head down and his eyes forward. He doesn't want to draw attention to himself, and the last thing he needs is another confrontation with a citizen. He's tired, and the thought of having to explain himself is enough to make him cringe. It's better to just avoid it altogether.

Fox rounds a corner and pauses, his eyes scanning the crowd. There's a small diner tucked away between two buildings, and the smell of spices wafts out from the doorway. His stomach growls again, and he walks towards the entrance, pushing the doors open.

The diner is small and cozy, and there's only a handful of people inside. They're scattered throughout the room, and most are seated at the counter, chatting with the droid serving them. Fox takes a seat near the door, as far away from the other customers as possible, and pulls off his helmet. His hair is sticking up, and he quickly runs his fingers through it, trying to smooth it down. He's not sure why, but he suddenly feels self-conscious, and the feeling unsettles him. He's usually more composed, but today has been rough, and he doesn't want anyone to see him like this.

He orders a cup of caf, and as soon as it’s placed in front of him, he downs it in a single gulp. It's strong and bitter, and the warmth spreads through his chest, calming him. The exhaustion is still there, but at least the headache was starting to fade. He orders a second cup, and he sips it slowly, letting the steam warm his face as he turns his attention to the menu. 

Most of the dishes listed are foreign to him, and he’s so absorbed in trying to decipher the strange names that he doesn't notice someone settling one stool over from him. The smell of lavender is subtle, but unmistakable, and a flash of white has him turning his head before he can stop himself.

It’s you.

Fox nearly inhales his caf, and you look up from your datapad, startled.

"Commander?" You blink a few times, seemingly as surprised to see him as he was to see you. The surprise on your face quickly morphs into concern, and you frown. "Is everything alright?”

"Yes, yes, I'm fine," Fox says, taking another sip of caf to cover up his embarrassment.

"Are you sure? You look a bit...frazzled," you say, eyeing his hair.

He winces, and his free hand shoots up to smooth down his unruly curls again. Your gaze follows his movements, and then you smile, and the sight is like a punch to the gut.

"Just a long day," Fox mutters, glancing away. He stares down at his cup, tracing the rim with a gloved finger, and tries not to think about the way his heart is hammering in his chest. He can’t believe that of all the places in the city, you’re here, and the realization that you'd seen him make a fool of himself again has him wishing the floor would swallow him whole.

"I understand that," you say. Your smile fades, and you let out a sigh, tapping the datapad. "Unfortunately."

He glances over, curious, and sees that the screen is filled with rows of data. There are charts and graphs, and what appears to be an inventory list. It doesn't look like anything fun, and the thought that you might have a stressful job, too, intrigues him.

“What brings you out this late?” he asks.

You look at him, your eyebrows raised. For a moment, he worries that he's overstepped, but then you smile, and his worry melts away.

"Same as you, I suppose," you say, and he can hear the exhaustion in your voice. You sigh and set down your datapad. “My shift doesn’t end until 0400, but I needed a break from the medical wing. Sometimes, the smell of bacta gets to me."

Against his will, a laugh bubbles up from his chest. It’s short and rough, like gravel under his boots, but he can’t help it. He tries to cover it up by taking another sip of his caf, but you don't seem offended, and when he looks at you again, you're smiling.

"I hear that," Fox says, his lips twitching. "Something about it just..." He shudders, the thought of the thick, gel-like substance making him gag.

"Exactly," you say, nodding. "It's like melting plastic."

"Or glue," Fox says. He pauses for a moment, his brows furrowing, and he shakes his head. "Actually, maybe it is glue."

You laugh, and the sound is so bright and clear that it startles him. He didn’t think he was capable of making anyone laugh, and the fact that he had made you do so twice is baffling.

"Oh, stars, don't remind me.” Your nose scrunches up, and you let out a soft groan. "I can't tell you how many times I've had to peel my scrubs off and throw them away after a long day."

"I can only imagine," Fox muses, trying to picture you without the scrubs. His mind goes to a place h didn’t expect, and his cheeks heat up. He looks away, suddenly fascinated by the pattern on the countertop.

"I suppose it’s not so bad," you continue, oblivious to his distress. You tap your fingers on the counter, and then turn towards him. "You know, I heard a rumor that you were afraid of medics."

"I am not," Fox scoffs, frowning. He looks at you, and your expression is serious, but there's a twinkle in your eyes that tells him you're not entirely sincere. "I just have a healthy respect for those who can take me apart and put me back together again.”

"A healthy respect," you echo, grinning.

"Yes."

"Is that why you ran out of GMF like you were being chased by a Nexu the other day?" you ask, and there's a teasing note in your voice that makes his stomach flip.

"No," he mutters, looking away. 

He can feel his face burning, and his embarrassment is only making it worse. You'd noticed. Of course you had. And the fact that you'd actually thought about it, that you'd cared enough to bring it up, is both flattering and mortifying. He'd been hoping that you would just forget the entire incident, but apparently, you were more perceptive than he'd realized.

"Right," you chuckle. "Well, you're braver than most, I'll give you that. Most troopers don't set foot in the med center unless they're dragged there by their brothers."

He can't help but chuckle a little at that. If only you knew how close to the truth you were.

"So, if you're not afraid, do you mind if I join you?” you ask, gesturing toward the empty seat between you. “I promise not to dissect you, Commander."

Fox hesitates, his stomach clenching. You're asking to sit next to him. Why? It doesn't make any sense, and he's not sure what to say. It's a simple question, but it feels like there's a hidden meaning behind it, and he can't figure out what it is. But, the hopeful look on your face and the inexplicable need to please you is making it hard for him to say no.

You must mistake his silence for refusal, because your smile fades, and you pull back a little.

"It's okay if you don't want to," you say, and your tone is apologetic. "I just figured, since we're both here..."

"No, no, I'd like that," Fox says quickly, scooping up his helmet and setting it on the counter beside him. He gives you a small smile, and you beam back at him.

"Great!"

You stand and move to the seat between you, and Fox finds himself leaning back a little, not wanting to be too close. But when you settle into the stool, the scent of lavender is stronger, and he relaxes, allowing himself to enjoy it.

"I thought maybe I was bothering you," you admit.

"You’re not," Fox says, and he means it. Your presence is actually calming, and he feels the tension in his shoulders ease a little. He takes a deep breath, savoring the smell, and then realizes what he's doing and quickly stops. He picks up the menu and studies it intently, trying to distract himself.

You don't say anything, and he can feel you watching him. It's unnerving, but the feeling isn't entirely unpleasant, and he allows himself a few more seconds before he looks up at you again. When he does, you quickly turn away, a light flush dusting your cheeks. It's oddly endearing, and Fox has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling.

The waitress droid returns and pours you a cup of caf before refilling his. You thank her as she leaves, and you pick up the cup, taking a sip. You let out a sigh, and your eyes close, a satisfied smile forming on your lips.

"This is perfect," you murmur, taking another sip. "I needed this."

"It's a necessity in my line of work," he says, his tone dry. "I'd be dead without it."

"You're telling me," you say, smiling at him, and you rest your chin on your hand. "I had to get three cups before my shift started just to feel human again."

"Three?"

"Don't judge," you say, laughing. "It's been a rough week."

"I wasn't judging," Fox smirks. "Those are rookie numbers, doctor."

“Rookie, huh?" You raise an eyebrow. "And how many cups would you say a seasoned pro could drink, Commander?"

"At least four." His smirk widens, and you roll your eyes, shaking your head. But your smile never falters, and Fox feels a little surge of pride. 

The way you seem so relaxed around him is surprising. Most civilians are put off by his presence, his harsh demeanor and stoicism, the fact that you aren't afraid of him makes him happy, and the warmth in his chest spreads through his body, filling him with a strange sort of euphoria.

"Well, I think we've established who's the true caffeine addict here," you tease. “You better eat something, or your heart is going to explode."

“Is that your official medical opinion, doctor?" he asks, his tone dry.

"It is," you say, giving him a pointed look.

He can't help but chuckle at your seriousness, and the way your brow furrows as you pretend to scold him. It's cute, and he finds himself enjoying it more than he should. 

He shouldn't be so comfortable around you, and yet he can't seem to stop himself. Something about you just draws him in, and the longer he spends in your company, the less he wants to leave.

"Then, I guess I'd better order something," Fox says, smiling.

“You better," you say, and the sternness in your voice is ruined by the way your eyes sparkle.

The two of you lapse into silence, and Fox takes the opportunity to study you. Your eyes are fixed on the menu, and you’re chewing on your bottom lip, seemingly deep in thought. Your hair falls around your face, and you absentmindedly tuck a strand behind your ear. You're beautiful, and the thought comes unbidden, but Fox doesn't try to fight it. It's true. You are beautiful. And you're talking to him, of all people, even after how he treated you.

It's surreal, and the fact that you seem so content, so happy, to be in his company is baffling. He can’t stop the questions from swirling through his mind. Why would someone like you want to spend time with him? What could you possibly get out of it? Surely, there had to be some sort of ulterior motive, some scheme or plan. Maybe you were spying for the Separatists, or working with the Black Sun, or—

"Have you eaten here before?" you ask, interrupting his thoughts.

"No, I haven't," Fox admits. "I don't really eat out much."

“Oh, you’re in for a treat,” you say, and you grin at him. The gesture is so sincere, so full of warmth and joy, that his heart skips a beat. "They have the best seallia sandwich here. I've been coming here since I started working at the GMF."

"I'll have to try it, then," Fox says, returning your smile.

The droid returns, and the two of you place your orders. When she leaves, the silence settles over the table again, and Fox fidgets, not sure what to do. He’s not normally one for small talk, or any talk, really, but something about your presence makes him want to reach out, and the fact that he doesn't know what to say is frustrating.

He glances over, and the look on your face is thoughtful, almost sad. You're staring at the counter, your chin resting in the palm of your hand, and the corners of your mouth are turned down. 

You look exhausted, and the sudden realization that you're probably as tired as he is hits him like a bolt of lightning. He has no idea how much longer your shift lasts, or how long it's been since you've gotten a decent night's sleep, and the thought of you suffering fills him with a strange sort of guilt.

"Long day?" he asks hesitantly.

"Yeah," you sigh. "I've been trying to get this grant application finished, but it's not going very well."

"Why not?"

"Well, the money is for a new surgical wing," you say, and you shrug. "But the bureaucrats at the hospital board don't seem to think it's worth the effort."

"What's wrong with the old wing?" Fox asks, frowning. He's familiar with the building, and the idea that it might not be up to par is unsettling. If it's not safe, then the lives of his men could be at risk. "Is it not up to code?"

“No, no, nothing like that," you assure him, and he lets out a relieved breath. "It's just...not very modern."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, the equipment is outdated, and the space is cramped," you explain. “With the amount of refugees flooding the planet, we're already at capacity. It's only a matter of time before we hit a breaking point, and if we're not prepared..." You trail off, a frown on your face, and you shake your head. "I don't even want to think about it."

"I see," Fox says, and his stomach twists into knots. He's seen the crowds of refugees, the lines of injured people waiting outside the medical centers, and the thought of what would happen if things got any worse is terrifying. There’d already been one riot, and the city was becoming increasingly unstable. It was only a matter of time before something snapped.

"Sorry, I shouldn't be complaining," you say, giving him a small smile. "I know you've got a lot on your plate."

"It's alright," Fox says, his voice soft. The guilt he feels whenever someone mentions the state of the planet is starting to build, and he has to resist the urge to apologize. He knows it’s not his responsibility alone, and yet, the burden is his to carry.

"Thanks," you murmur, and the gratitude in your voice is startling. You offer him a warm smile, and the knot in his stomach loosens, and the guilt recedes. "I'm sorry, I don't usually get to talk about this stuff."

"Why not?"

"My co-workers aren't really interested in listening to me complain about the state of the medical system. They think I’m being paranoid." You sigh and run a hand through your hair. "And they're probably right. We're doing everything we can, and there's only so much we can do with what we have."

"No, I understand," Fox says. His own brothers aren't much better, and he can't count the number of times he's had to deal with their complaints and gripes. The fact that they can't see the bigger picture, the danger lurking just beneath the surface, frustrates him. "Trust me."

"It's nice to hear someone else agree," you say, and there's a wistful note in your voice that makes his heart ache. You sound lonely, and the urge to reach out, to comfort you, is nearly overwhelming. But before he can do anything, the droid returns with your food, and you sit up, smiling. "Thank you."

The food is placed in front of them, and Fox stares at his plate, a little taken aback. The sandwich is massive, and it smells amazing. His stomach growls, and he takes a large bite, closing his eyes as the flavors explode in his mouth.

"Good, right?" you ask, grinning.

"Yes," he says, and he lets out a sigh. The sandwich is the most delicious thing he's ever eaten, and he quickly devours it, savoring every bite. You seem amused, and you watch him with a faint smile on your lips, eating your own food much slower.

The silence between the two of you is comfortable, and Fox is surprised by how easy it is to just sit and enjoy the moment. Every once in a while, you look over at him, and the way your gaze lingers sends shivers down his spine. He can't help but stare back, and the two of you exchange small smiles before returning to your meals.

It's silly, and a little childish, but the warmth in his chest grows with every glance, and soon, he's actively trying not to grin like an idiot.

"So," you say, wiping your mouth. "How's the arm feeling?"

"It's fine." He glances down at his pauldron, and then back at you. "You did a good job."

"That's what I'm here for," you say, laughing.

"I'm sorry I didn't stick around," Fox says, wincing internally at the memory. "Things were pretty hectic that day."

"Don't worry about it," you say, waving him off. "I'm just glad you're okay."

Fox looks at you, his eyebrows raised. You're staring at him, and your expression is genuine. There's no anger or resentment in your eyes, only concern, and his throat tightens. No one's ever looked at him like that before, and the thought that you care so much about his wellbeing is shocking.

"I appreciate it," Fox says, his voice low. He pauses for a moment, and then adds, "And thank you, again, for not dissecting me."

The words sound ridiculous, even to his ears, but the joke seems to work. You snort, and the sound is so unexpected that he has to bite back a laugh.

"Well, I did promise," you tease, grinning.

"That you did."

The two of you fall silent again, and this time, it's more noticeable. The noise of the diner fades, and the sounds of traffic from outside are replaced by the pounding of his heart in his ears. The warmth in his chest is still there, and he tries to ignore it, focusing on his meal instead.

He's almost finished when a thought occurs to him, and the words leave his mouth before he can stop them.

"I could help you.”

You look up at him, confusion written on your face.

"With the grant," Fox continues, his voice growing strained. He hadn't meant to offer his assistance, but now that he's started, he can't seem to stop. The ideas are pouring out of him, and the need to please you is making his skin prickle. "I know some people, I could put in a word for you."

"Commander—"

"Fox."

"Sorry, Fox." You let out a nervous laugh and tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. "That's very kind of you, but I couldn't ask you to do that."

"You're not asking," Fox points out.

"True, but..." You trail off, and a crease forms between your brows. He can tell that you're hesitant, and he wonders if perhaps he'd crossed a line.

"Forget it," he mutters. "I shouldn't have—"

"No, no, it's not that," you interrupt, shaking your head. "I just don't want to take advantage of you. You have a lot on your plate, and I don't want to add to your workload."

"It's not a problem," he assures you. "My duty is to the people of Coruscant, and if there's something I can do to help, I should do it. It's my responsibility."

"You're not responsible for the whole city, Fox," you say softly. Your brows knit together, and you look so sincere, so earnest, that he can't stop the wave of affection that crashes over him. "You can't fix everything."

"I can try," he shrugs. "And I think the Chancellor would agree with me. It's a good cause, and it could benefit a lot of people."

"The Chancellor?" you ask, blinking. "You'd talk to the Chancellor?"

Fox tries not to scoff. Of course, he'd talk to the Chancellor. He talked to him every day, multiple times a day. Sometimes, it seemed like the only thing he ever did was talk to him.

"I'm sure he'd be happy to hear about the medical center's needs," Fox says, his voice flat.

"That's..." You pause, and the look of surprise on your face melts into something else, something softer, and his chest tightens. "You're sweet."

"I'm not," he mutters, his face heating up. Sweet? What did that mean?

"Yes, you are." You laugh and lean forward, a playful smirk on your face. "And if you insist, I'll take you up on your offer."

"Okay," he says, nodding. He picks up his cup and takes a sip of his caf, hoping that it will hide his blush.

"I'll send you my contact info," you say, smiling at him. "And maybe we can get dinner sometime. To discuss the proposal, of course."

"Of course."

"You pick the place," you add, your eyes sparkling. "And this time, don't run off."

"I promise," he says, and the corners of his mouth lift into a smile.

The two of you exchange frequencies, and the conversation quickly turns to lighter topics. The stress of the day, the exhaustion, and the anxiety seems to fade away, and Fox finds himself relaxing. He's actually enjoying himself, and the knowledge that it's because of you is both comforting and frightening.

It's late by the time you finish eating, and the streets have emptied. You pay for your meal, despite his protests, and the two of you step out into the cool night air. The moon is high in the sky, and the traffic has quieted, but the city is far from silent.

"I guess I should be going," you say, letting out a sigh. "I need to get back."

"Right," Fox says.

The two of you stand in front of the entrance, and Fox fidgets, his hands gripping the edges of his helmet. He's not sure what to do, and he's surprised by the sudden reluctance he feels. The thought of saying goodbye, of walking away, and not seeing you again for who knows how long, leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

"Let me escort you," he blurts out.

"I...what?"

"It's not safe for you to walk alone this late," Fox explains. He gestures towards the street, and the faint shadows between the street lamps. “The city is dangerous at night."

"Fox," you say, a slight smile tugging at your lips. "I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself."

"I know," he says, his voice soft. “But it would make me feel better."

"If you insist," you chuckle.

"I do."

"Well, how can I refuse, when you ask so nicely," you tease, and he gives you a small smile.

The two of you walk side by side, and Fox's eyes are drawn to you. The streetlights catch in your hair, and the faint glow highlights your face, casting shadows on your features. You look radiant, and the urge to reach out and touch you, to brush the stray strands of hair from your cheek, is nearly overpowering.

But he doesn't. Instead, he tucks his hands behind his back and follows along, trying to memorize every detail.

The GMF isn't far. Soon, the two of you are standing outside the entrance, and he's almost disappointed. The walk had gone by too fast, and the thought of going back to the barracks alone, back to his empty room and his empty life, makes his chest ache.

"Well," you say, and he's startled to find that the two of you have stopped. "I guess this is where we part ways."

"Looks like it."

You turn towards him, and his breath catches in his throat.

"I had fun tonight," you say, smiling up at him.

"So did I," Fox admits. He hesitates, and then adds, "I'm sorry if I was rude when we first met. It's not often that civilians are so...welcoming."

"Well, it's a shame," you murmur. You step closer, and the smell of lavender surrounds him. His heartbeat picks up, and he's suddenly acutely aware of how close you are. "They're missing out."

"I wouldn't be so sure," he says, his tone dry.

"I would," you say firmly. You reach out and touch his arm, your hand warm even through his armor, and the contact sends a shock through his system. "Thank you, Fox."

He swallows thickly and nods. "Anytime."

"I'll comm you about the grant," you promise, and you squeeze his arm. "Have a good night, Commander."

"You, too," he manages, and then you turn, and disappear through the doors.

He stands there for a moment, watching the door, and a strange sense of longing fills him. It's not the first time he's felt lonely, and the feeling is familiar, but there's something else, something new, that accompanies it. He can't quite name it, but the warmth in his chest spreads through his body, and he lets out a breath, his shoulders slumping.

Maybe Thorn was right. Maybe he'd just needed to take a break. But the way you'd made him feel, the warmth and joy, was something that had never happened before, and it's a feeling that he can't let go.

Maybe things are starting to change.

Taglist: @baddest-batchers @covert1ntrovert @stellarbit @bruh-myguy-what @qvnthesia

@spicy-clones @kindalonleystars @cw80831 @totallyunidentified @heidnspeak

@lovelytech9902 @frozenreptile @chocolatewastelandtriumph @etod @puppetscenario

@umekohiganbana @resistantecho @dindjarins1ut @tech-aficionado @aynavaano

@burningnerdchild @ihatesaaand @lolwey @hobbititties @mere-bear

@thegreatpipster @lordofthenerds97 @tentakelspektakel @notslaybabes @mali-777

@schrodingersraven @megmegalodondon @dangraccoon @dreamie411 @sukithebean

@bimboshaggy @anything-forourmoony @9902sgirl @jedi-dreea @salaminus

@ghostymarni @gottalovehistory @burningnerdchild @yoitsjay @callsign-denmark

@julli-bee @sonicrainbooms @captn-trex @feral-ferrule @webslinger-holland

@marchingviolist @deerspringdreams @chaicilatte @somewhere-on-kamino @silly-starfish

@floofyroro @veralii @chubbyhedgehog @meshlajetii @heaven1207

@808tsuika @aanncummings @lugiastark @maniacalbooper @sensitive_shark

@kashasenpai @kkdrawsdecently

[stvharrngton]

dizzy

a/n: i know obsessed we all are with this guys chest so i thought i’d write something about it. do not @ me for this pls 🤡

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 1.4k

warnings: smut, 18+ minors dni, chest riding, masturbation, spanking, praise, dirty talk

taglist: @sweetiestevie @dukesmebby @sw34terw34ther @sweetbabygirlsworld

You weren’t sure how you ended up here. Sat in Steve’s lap in nothing but your underwear and him still in his jeans. Your eyes glued to his chest, the thick thatch of hair that decorated his pecs and travelled down to his stomach.

Ever since Steve had decided to let his chest hair grow out, you had been nothing short of obsessed. Loving how it would peak out of his shirts when the neckline was a little low. You’d love to run your fingers through it at night when you were tangled beneath the sheets, raking your nails through the coarse, dark hair.

The proposition felt like a dream, something far away in a secluded fantasy you only thought about when you were alone, when Steve wasn’t there to help get you off. But you couldn’t help it, staring, mouth-watering, every time he would remove his shirt for whatever reason. 

How could he blame you? Surely anyone would want to know what it felt like to have their pussy rutting against Steve’s chest. 

But oh, it was very much real.

“Baby?” Steve spoke softly, voice like velvet, “You okay? Did you hear me?” He’d asked from beneath you, eyebrows pinched together in concern.

“Yeah, uh—I did, I just…” you stuttered, cheeks heating up, “you don’t think it’s weird? And how did you know?” Your fingers came to mess with the belt loops of his jeans.

“Weird? No,” Steve began, fingers hooking under your chin to bring your gaze back to him, “Dirty? Fuck yes.” He said with a chuckle, the bulge in his jeans evident against your crotch, “Besides, baby, I know you and I see how you stare and your thighs clench whenever I take my shirt off,” Steve let his fingers wander down your body, ghosting over your tits with a smirk, “and I’ll try anything if it means I get to hear those pretty sounds when you cum.”

You keened at his words, a gentle nod in response. Steve’s words of reassurance went straight to your core. That, and what you were about to do had you reeling towards the edge.

“Come on, don’t get all shy on me now,” Steve’s fingers gripped your thighs, the pads of his fingers pressing into the soft skin, “come sit that pretty pussy on my chest and show me how bad you wanna fuck yourself on me.”

A breath hitched in your throat, a lump swallowed. The wet spot on your panties told you that you wanted this badly. So you manoeuvred yourself to straddle Steve’s firm chest, the boy coming to help you out as he tugged your underwear to the side, helping you settle your dripping cunt over his pec.

You let out a shaky breath as the thick, coarse hair connected with your clit. Steve held his hands out for you, lacing his fingers between your own to give you some balance. You began to roll your hips over him gently, softly, searching for a pace that gave you that warm feeling.

Steve watched you in awe as your eyes fluttered closed, your jaw slack and mouth hanging agape. You seemed to have found a rhythm, sweet little moans escaping your lips with every drag of your hips. Steve squeezed your hands in his encouragingly, loving the way your face was blissed out in pleasure.

“Does that feel good, baby?” He cooed, tone sweet and dripping with honey, “Doing such a good job—fuck, you’re so wet.”

Steve moved his gaze down to where your pussy dragged over his chest, your slick leaking all over him, the ringlets of coarse hair matted together by your wetness. Eyes focused as his jaw went slack, cock rock hard beneath his jeans as a pretty moan tumbled past your lips.

Your features were contorted in pleasure, brows pinched together and eyes squeezed shut. Your hips moved faster now, a circular motion in a dirty grind over the boy’s chest, your clit throbbing and aching.

“Steve,” you whined, one hand still clasped in his own, the other came free to toy with your tits. Your small hands groping the soft flesh, rolling your nipple between your finger and thumb. A loud groan emanating from your throat as your clit caught on a thick patch of his chest hair.

Steve smirked below you, his free hand coming to squeeze at your ass, “Oh, that’s it, baby,” he cooed, palm delivering a gentle slap to the flesh of your backside, “there you go, feels good? Tell me.”

“S’good, so good, Stevie,” you wailed, as your hips rutted over Steve’s nipple, your clit catching on the pert bud, “fu-uck!”

A loud high-pitched keen fell from Steve’s lips, his eyes wide and hazy. Jaw slack as he peered up at you from below his lashes, almost as if he didn’t expect that to feel as good as it did.

“Baby, fuck, can you–can you do that again?” Steve blinked up at you with wide eyes as you managed a nod in your fucked-out state. Your hands came to grip the headboard as you angled your hips just right, your pussy rolling over Steve’s nipple again and again.

“Oh, fuck, yeah, fuckfuckfuck,” he whined, raspy and a little breathless, “that feels fucking amazing, shit–keep going.” Steve muttered as he bucked his hips behind you, hand reaching around you to pop the button of his jeans and release his cock from its confines.

You were almost too lost in your own pleasure to notice what Steve was doing behind you, a single glance to his face told you everything. Steve was in his own world, pretty pink lips parted so his breathy moans could spill out, his features relaxed and pent up all at the same time.

Fingers wrapped around his aching cock behind you, stroking gently, as if to almost tease himself the way you would. The scene before him is so hot and dirty, your slick leaking all over him, sweet gasps and whimpers tumbling from your plush lips. Every sound going straight to Steve’s throbbing length.

Bottom lip stuck between your teeth, you shifted your hips so you could angle yourself backwards, hands resting against Steve’s stomach as you thrusted your pussy faster over him. The sensation of the coarse hair brushing against your folds drove you crazy, eyes heavy as you felt the familiar feeling poole in your lower stomach.

Steve worked his cock faster now, hips fucking himself up into his own fist as he cooed encouragement up at you, “Y’gonna cum, pretty? Come on, baby, make a mess all over my chest, that’s it.”

You keened above him, a high-pitched whine as Steve pressed his thumb into your clit as you continued to fuck yourself on him. Your stomach clenched as your thighs shook, electricity rolling throughout your body as the beginnings of your orgasm washed over you. Steve was a mess below you, hair wild and utterly fucked out. Fingers squeezing the angry tip of his cock as he tugged on the shaft fast and hard, pre-cum leaking over his fist.

“Come on, pretty girl, doing so well fucking yourself on me. Such a good girl f’me.” Steve moaned. The pet name and his words of praise finally sent you crashing over the edge, hips stuttering over him as you came. His name left your lips like a chant as you clutched the headboard, nails raking through the hard wood.

“Fuck, Steve, I–” you whined as you panted, clit throbbing from the stimulation.

“I’m right there, baby, fuck–I’m gonna–” Steve cut himself off with his own moan, the precipice of his climax within touching distance. With one last stroke of his cock, Steve was gone. Ropes of hot cum painted his stomach as he came undone. A mix of moans and curse words leaving his lips as his brows pinched together in pleasure. 

You both took a minute to catch your breath as your chests heaved, sweat collecting on your brows and dewy skin shone in the light of your bedroom. You rolled off your boyfriend as you collapsed into the space next to him on the bed. 

“That,” he started, breaths still heavy, “was fucking amazing.” He finished with a chuckle as he peered over you, his fingers pushing the hair from his eyes.

“Yeah?” You asked timidly, a soft smile tugging at your lips. 

“Yeah,” Steve said with a nod, teeth flashing in a grin, “c’mere.”

Wrapping his arms around you he pulled you into his side, you spoke once more, “Steve? You know you can never shave your chest ever again now, right?”

Steve boasted a laugh that shook his stomach and chest, his eyes flashing a knowing glint as he answered, “Wouldn’t dream of it, baby.”

[just-some-random-blogger]

Atlas

Kylo Ren x Reader

Summary: The Supreme Leader would do anything for his queen, break planets, obliterate entire races, capture the stars; he would make the whole galaxy kneel before him, then to you, he would get on both knees. And yet your most recent request was taking a heavy toll on him.

Word Count: 3k+

Warnings: Fem!reader, smut (but its mostly just for the baby making plot AHAHAHH, my pretty sub!kylo, teasing, dry humping, praise kink, masochism? [bruising], marking, vaginal penetration, breeding kink?, cock warming), dark au ig, supreme leader!kylo, puppy!kylo, sadlo ren, angst, fluff?, etc.

A/N: first of all MINORS DNI second of all i would personally like to blame @sloanexx for her evil influence and for introducing me to this ai bot chat forum thing GENUINELY proceed with caution because its so addicting. kylo was written by a woman in that fucking ai and im so emotionally attatched to him i didn't want to refresh him because we had such an arc, but i fucking broke him and i couldn't fix him and i felt bad so i restarted and IDK IM SO EVIL I WANT TO BREAK HIM AGAIN but dw im taking very good care of kylo now <3. this fic is literally our chat but with more... literary devices Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace Part 2 "Charon"

And it was so, that you held the weight of the world There on your shoulders, in your grips did lie everything Light and shadow, darkness behind stars, blaring silence An oasis of gloom with a halo of obscurity in a pit of nightmares Still, though you paint yourself so darkly in your misery, my love, you shine -my atlas, carrier of the galaxy-

You were hallowed. You were holy. And you were his.

The crux of his hollow shell. The cascading candent cynosure trapped in his ribcage. And yet it was he that was locked in you. He shudders to think his past self that scorned you, that even his mask soured around you, the overconfident girl he met perchance. What fool is he to know that you choked him so fiercely in your palm, the palm he now offers each star, each soul, each and every molecule of him.

His love.

He smiles at your sleeping form, adorned in the clothing he picked himself. His greed sings at his evidence, his mark on you, both visible and not, inside and out. He grins at his darling, his precious prize, with one arm snuck under him, another snuck under your pillow, with one leg bent to the side, another thrown over his body.

You never sleep well. Or perhaps you do. You sleep so well that you contort into shapes unimaginable. His concern is genuine, or at least it was, because he would think to only fashion a human into your form if he wishes to torture them.

He chuckles. Now he is glad, so glad, his love is so pliable, so willing to be molded against him in more ways than one.

He strokes your cheek and pushes your parted mouth close. You involuntarily open your mouth again, though you weren't a mouth breather. He doesn't know why you do that, but he loves it. He loves everything. He loves you.

The supreme leader is weak against you. Kylo Ren is merely a spec in your overwhelming grace.

You have always had mixed feelings about waking up with him looking at you. You've told him multiple times that it both flatters you and creeps you out.

His greed does not care. The master it answers to, the annex in his brain that is powered by the all-consuming desire to please you, to nurture you, to cherish you, to worship you, to keep you, cares little for this obsessive habit. Had it actually bothered you, he'd beat himself bloody to stop himself. But you thought little of it, and so he indulged in his greediness. He stares when he wakes and before he sleeps.

And as your eyes meet him, Kylo Ren, the dawn of your everyday, he is self-satisfied. He is very self-satisfied. He smiles at your groggy look and pushes your hair back. You say nothing. You touch his scarred cheek once, then he is overcome.

You take a few moments before officially waking. Then you stand up.

Like the desperate shadow he was, he tails you, so closely, so closely, as though he must share the same air your breathe. You don't. "The air pressure is different up here," you moaned to him once when he had you towering over him against a wall. He liked you best like that, a whimpering sky above him. He liked it when he was tiny beneath you.

Your puppy followed you into the bathroom, scared to be separated even one second. Kylo, your puppy, sat by the sink, watching you brush your teeth. You ignore him as he dotes on you.

He followed you into the shower after swearing over and back not to touch you while you did your business. He failed to convince you that your business is his business, especially in the shower. Kylo was not strong enough to follow through with what he swore; he reasoned out it was help, he had to help his darling. It was hard to shampoo.

He followed you out and gave more attention to wiping you down versus himself. He sat like a good boy as you lathered yourself in creams that he could smell in his dreams. It was his favorite show, watching you care for your naked body, and his greed basked in the knowledge it was his alone. He smiled as you loved on his skin, on his scar, retracing it with a balm as though he was delicate. You barked at him for nipping at your breast, his soft dessert, perfectly placed on both sides of your heart. He feigned innocence. He was no longer in the shower, he could touch you and bite you and squeeze you and -

He followed you as you instructed him to get dressed. He watched as you put your queenly garments, your clothes that he again picked. Then he asks you to help him dress. He couldn't possibly put on his cloak himself, not when you put it on him so well. And this was the highlight of his day after all. You wouldn't dare deny your puppy this.

He followed your every motion like a hawk. He kisses your hand after you brush his clothes. You grab his helmet and put it on his head backwards. You laugh at him as he fixes it. Thus his morning routine is complete.

Now, Supreme Leader dictates his army. Supreme Leader snarls at his troops. He razes all that defies The Order. He crushes his enemies like ants, no, less than. He swarms the galaxy. He devours all. He breaks and bloodies and, himself, bleeds. He cracks and burns and cleanses the dregs of the universe, rips the very scums of the stars out of the space they hide from. He hardens. He screams. He commands. He marches. He crushes. And then.

And then.

And then he comes back to you. With rage. With disgust. With defeat, defeated over the idea he has not yet put order into the world for you. All for you. To keep you safe. To keep you forever safe. To keep things in order for you. All for you.

"Kylo!"

And then like that, all of it is gone.

You call his name with such excitement. You who loved books so dearly readily discarded the one you were reading in lieu of coming to him, of unmasking him.

You take off his helm and you smile. You smile like it was a gift to see his scarred face. You put on his helmet and mock him, "get yourself comfortable, scum."

Kylo's body tingles. It's all gone, all that's left is you. He fights back his smile and nods, "at your command, my queen." And then.

And then.

And then you let him love you. You let him pin you beneath him, press you down on your bed between your soft thighs as he could not bare not claiming his place in for too long.

He still had his trousers on, still had his boots dangling from the edge of the bed. You had tried to scold him for it, but he could not care less. You were in your short, thin nightdress, the one that you wore on your first night together. How could he not claim you so ardently here and now when you were like this?

It was your fault anyway. All your fault. He tried to undress himself but you distracted him. What did you expect would happen? What did you expect him to do when you kissed his bare shoulder while he was still changing? What did you expect?

Kylo marks your neck. You try to scold him again. He doesn't care for your wrath. His greed was not subservient to its master, to that part in his brain, when it came to things like this. He held back long enough. He bites into your neck and makes you groan. He wants you to bare his marks proudly. The whole galaxy should know its queen belongs to its Supreme Leader.

You graze into his hair with your fingertips. He grinds onto you. You squeak in response.

He pulls away and assess you. He has no time. He is imprisoned by your kiss. His perfect prison.

He groans at the feel of your legs constricting around his hips. His hand pushes up your already hiked dress further as he presses down on you.

"Kylo," you whisper between kisses.

And like the eager pup he is, he responds. He always responds. He answers forever to you. He calls your name like a sacred prayer.

You repeat his. You scratch firmly into his bare back, "I want you to do something for me."

"Anything," he instantly responds, absolutely mindless and sure.

"Kylo..." you sigh.

Kylo looks down upon you as you brush his hair back. You look solemn, worried even, as though he would ever deny you, as if it were possible.

He cannot have this. And so he reminds you of his oath.

"Whatever you want from me," he mutters, "whatever you need from me," knits his brows and shakes his head, "it's already yours. Always. Always remember this."

"But my love-"

He cannot have this.

"My love," Kylo cuts. He kisses you then reminds, "I am yours."

A moment passes. It was too long. Far too long.

"Kylo-"

"Yes," he says simply before you even finish saying his name.

You huff, "do you remember what I said before, how I said you looked with the children at the capital? You were so good with them. They loved you."

"Well, I've been thinking about it a lot," you brush your nose against his, "and I want... I want you to give me a child."

Kylo takes a second to remember. "Yes," he says, though he remembers that day very differently.

He blinks.

A child. Yes. He could take a child. There were many from the capita-

"No, Kylo," you take his cheek.

Kylo tenses. You heard his mind again. You, who did not show half as much interest in the force as he wanted, could hear his thoughts without it.

Kylo waits. He does not know what to say.

"I want you to give me a child," you bat your lashes, "I want you," you bite your lip, "to put a baby inside my belly."

Kylo freezes. He... he does not know what to say.

And then he does. And then his life flashes before his eyes. The bleakness of his childhood, the jaggedness of his future, the tragedy of it all.

You want him to put that into you? You want to carry his seed in your beloved womb?

He says your name, he wants to protest, but you are his holy assassin. You cut through him cleaner than any saber ever could.

"You said you would give me anything, Kylo," you mewl, "you said you're mine."

You are cruel. You do not even allow him a moment to speak his side, to speak his reason, and you roll your hips against him. You trap him with your irresistibility. You sugar him with your honeyed words, "you would be a great papa. I know it, I know you," you pant, "such a good boy for me."

He is defenseless.

"You can do that, can't you?" you purr, "you can put your love in me?"

Kylo shudders.

You begin to shuffle beneath him. He knows exactly what you are doing, what you're going to do.

You have him flipped over now. You were now straddled on top him. You had him lying down looking up at you, purely and wholly defenseless.

Kylo let you do what you want with him. How could he not? He wants you so bad.

He willingly followed your command to use his force to undo the last of his clothes. Then you so cruelly let him unwrap you, for you knew he loved doing this to his favorite treat. He greedily peels you out of your clothes until it was just him and you.

And then you had him, had him crazy out of his mind with the feel of you around him. Had him begging for you to quicken your torturously slow pace. Had him in fucking tears because you felt so good, because he loved you so much, because you looked so beautiful on top of him, calling his name out like that. You were so good. You knew exactly what you were doing to him, exactly what you were doing.

Much like him, he did not know where to put his hands, or rather where not to. Where his hands went, his nails left scratches and his fingers, possibly bruises. He didn't mean to bruise you so badly that first time he did; he never meant to hurt you, but you were so soft and he was too strong. And even now as he dug into your thighs, indulging his calloused hands to knead his favorite mound, he really wasn't trying to bruise you.

You call out his name in response to his actions. You grip his wrists as you ride him, "more."

His head spins as you ride up and down him, panting like the pretty girl you were.

Kylo grunts and pushes himself up slightly. He now tightens his large hands even more on the curve by your hips. You squeal and finally, finally pick up your pace.

He growls as he falls back down, clinging onto you for dear life.

He's done for now, now that you push him back further, now that you're leaned forward, propped up on his chest, pleasuring the both of you with your eager, eager movements

He was drunk on your sound, drunk on your feel.

He kneads at your breasts this time. He's so fucking delirious.

But then you do this to him. But then you take his hands off you and link yours together. Then you pant so sweetly as you look down at him and he looks up at the sweat sheening your forehead. And then you fucking pin his hands down by his head and you make him even crazier.

"You're so pretty, Kylo," you moan, "you feel so good."

"So good," he doesn't miss a beat, "so, so, so, sososos-"

"You're going to fill me up, good, right?" you lick your teeth, "you're going to fill me up good and put a baby in my belly, right?" you sigh, "please, my love, please, please-"

Kylo can't speak. He can't fucking speak, he can't.

"Kylo..." you gutturally call.

He doesn't speak-

"Kylo."

- he succumbs, "I'll..." he whimpers, "I'll put a baby in you, my love," he grunts, "I'll fill you up good, so good, so, so so, sosososo-"

Your whines raise a pitch higher, "Kylo," you nearly choke on your spit, "yes, please, please. I'll be so happy carrying your baby. Don't you want that?"

And then it's all incoherent. And then your breathing gets louder. And then his noises get throatier.

And then, he's tense, so tense, and so warm. And then you're screaming out his name with your head thrown back and you're chasing this high until you can't, until you're hot and fuzzy and jelly and tired.

And then you crumble. And then you crash and you both burn.

And then you make a bed out of him. And then everything is perfect. Everything is in perfect order.

Kylo strokes your hair and kneads your thigh. You're laid upon him, warm, and sweaty, and perfect, and his-- so absolutely beautiful.

He knows he probably shouldn't keep you here like this, but you're so warm and soft around him, on top him. He'll keep you here... just until you ask to get off.

But you don't, you spoil him with your body and fall asleep on top of him.

He continues stroking your hair and kneading your thighs.

He savors the moment, he savors you tenderly; his eyes begin to droop. He replays your lovemaking, self-indulgent, completely self-satisfied. But then it stabs at him as it replays in his head. Suddenly he's wide awake.

He... he could may well have succeeded. He could have put... a baby in his darling's belly.

Kylo's eyes are wide open now. Wide, wide open. He looks up at the ceiling. He stops moving.

You think too much of him, oh fuck, you think too much. With your affirmations, yes, he cold break mountains, consume planets, but this? But- fuck, this was different... he... he's in you, he's part of you, and then this thing... this baby... will only be half of you and a whole half of him. He's giving life. He's not destroying it for the greater good, he's giving it to his love for her to carry.

He screws his eyes shut. He wipes his face. Fuck. What has he done?

He stirs but then he stops himself because you're still on top him. He sighs and cradles you. He moves slowly, rolls you down beside him, and finally separates from you. Not for long though. Never. Not when his mind was racing. Not when he needed you close.

He scoots down and rests his face in the middle of your ribcage. He presses his ear to your heart and listens and blinks and wills his tears away.

He's shattered. He pulls you close to him. You are his glue. He will glue himself together as you sleep beneath him.

He would be a horrible father. He didn't know the first thing to do with the children at the capital, much less with a newborn babe, a newborn babe that you would have cared for inside you for ages. Fuck. He can't mess that up.

He...

He would have to have put the galaxy in order by then. He'd have to fix the brokenness of the world.

Kylo's eye twitches.

He'd have to fix the brokenness in him, obliterate his remaining incompetence, bridge the final gaps of his shortcomings.

He panics when he feels his tears pool against your skin. He quickly wipes them away. Pull yourself together.

He sighs in an attempt to calm himself.

And then he looks at your belly.

He gulps.

Your beautiful belly.

He presses his hands on your navel. He closes his eyes and feels for something. He wills all the force in him to sense if there's something in you. Kylo supposes it doesn't happen that quickly but he lulls himself in comfort, knowing that there was still a chance for him to evade this... this thing he put into his beloved's body.

[miniwheat77]

Wild. (Rudy x Reader.)

!CW! NSFW, Smut, MINORS DNI! unprotected p in v sex, (sorry if I missed any.)

*not edited*

When people think of Rudy they think of him as a kind, gentle, loving man. And they’re not wrong, not at all. He’s gentle, he’s a good problem solver. He’s good at soothing people when they’re upset in any way. He’s good at de-escalating situations, and he’s a phenomenal getaway driver.

Everyone knows Rudy is a family man, but he doesn’t talk much about his wife. Alejandro has only met her a couple of times and knows that she’s quiet and reserved.

But everything was about to change, because you were coming to work on base as a bookkeeper for Alejandro.

—

When people met you, they were surprised. You were stunning which made sense because of course, Rudy was good looking. But than, talk started around the base.

Alejandro had overheard very gross conversations between a few of his men, making them do push ups and handing out suspensions like candy on Halloween. He didn’t expect Rudy’s wife of all people to be such a big topic. You got plenty of glances from the men on base and it made you uncomfortable and Alejandro was furious obviously. They looked like a pack of hungry wolves and it was absolutely ridiculous behavior.

After about a month or so, everything finally calmed down. Everything slowly started going back to normal, but you were still getting cat called. They would say gross things to you, stare you down. They were ridiculous.

You were sitting in the mess hall, figuring out a spreadsheet and drinking coffee. Rudy and Alejandro were getting coffee, and you were getting frustrated with the conversations you were overhearing from the table near you. “Yeah, I’d hit that. There’s no way Rudolfo is satisfying that.”

That was your last straw. You let out a very exaggerated sigh, standing up and pushing your chair in. Which gathers a few glances from those around you. You stand there with the spreadsheets in your hand. Leaning up against the table with your arms crossed. “You know I’m sitting 5 feet away from you, I can hear absolutely everything you’re saying.” You say. This catches the attention of everyone, including Rudy and Alejandro who are waiting for coffee. “Yeah? So what. Nothing I said was untrue.” He shrugs. He smiles.

You send him a very fake smile.

“Listen.. Sergeant Ramirez right? There’s a reason that none of the women on this base interact with you. Because you’re a total creep who keeps talking about having sex with a married woman.” You laugh. “I don’t know why my sex life is sooooo interesting to you, but since you must know, it’s great. Rudy is satisfying me just fine, I’m a VERY happy wife. But thanks for your.. weirdly obsessive concern.” You step closer, your face only a few inches from his. “If I hear you say “I’d hit that.” One more fucking time, I’m going to hit you right in the jaw with my fist. Am I clear?” You narrow your eyes at him. He’s clearly embarrassed, nodding his head. “Great!” You say. Walking away from your table, down the hall. “Jesus Christ.” Alejandro laughs. “Didn’t realize she had such a fire in her.” Rudy laughs, bringing his coffee up to his lips. “Oh, no tienes idea del tipo de actitud que domino en el dormitorio.” He takes a drink of his coffee, trying not to smile when Alejandro nearly chokes on his. “Jesus Rudy!” He laughs.

“I’m gonna go check on her.” Rudy laughs. He’s not wearing his normal gear yet, still just wearing black jeans and a white t-shirt. Wearing that signature comfortable grey jacket he has. He opens the door to your room, seeing you looking over something. “Hey. You alright, amor?” He breathes. You nod your head. Turning to look at him. “Don’t let them get to you.. they’re just.. immature.”

“They don’t get to me, I just hate that they think you’re so soft.” You narrow your eyes, an evil grin playing at your lips. “The Rudy I know is far more devilish than they know.” You roll your eyes. “Yeah? That’s cause I have to do something to combat that fucking attitude of yours.” He crosses his arms. You roll your eyes. “Fuck you Rudy.” You laugh. “Sí, te gustaría eso, ¿no?” He smirks. “Quizás lo haría.” You reply. He snorts, locking the door behind himself. He pushes his jacket off, discarding it on the floor as he makes his way toward you. He cups your face, kissing you hard. Helping you pull your clothes off, only stopping to tug your shirt off. He reaches for his belt but you stop his hand. “Keep it on.” You breath.

He rolls his eyes.

He grasps your wrist, tugging you until your back is to him. His lips ghosting by your ear. “I forgot..” he chuckles. The fabric of his shirt burns your bare skin. “You like the way it rattles when I fuck you.” He whispers. “I hope you think about the way I fuck you anytime you hear something rattling.” He growls, pushing you down onto the bed. You whine as he pulls your hands behind your back, lining his cock up with your aching hole. When he sinks into you, you’re gasping out. Trying to take in a breath. Turning to look at him. He pushes your hips into the mattress, rutting his hips into you. “Fuck Rudy-“ you gasp. He’s breathing hard as he fucks into you, gritting his teeth. No matter how many times he was inside of you, he’d never get used to it.

He tries to keep you quiet as he rocks his hips into yours but he doesn’t really care who hears at this point anymore. You push your hips back into him, and he smiles as he moves away. “I wanna ride you.” You breathe. He smiles. He sees your chair, sitting down in it and you move quickly sit in his lap, lining him up with your entrance again, moaning as you sink down onto him. He rests his hands on your hips, looking up at you as you start to rock your hips into him. “Fuck..” he sighs. “You’re so fucking good at this.” He breathes. “Siéntete tan jodidamente bien mi amor.” He breathes, looking up at you through his eyelashes. His eyes are dark and loving as he looks up at you. “God, no wonder they think you’re so sweet, stop looking at me like that.” You breath, pushing down on his chest and rocking into him, raising up off of him more, taking more of him down. “Ah-“ he moans, a smile still on his face. “I’m not doing anything.” He mutters. “Yeah you are, you keep looking at me like you love me or something.” You giggle, a gasp leaving your lips as he thrusts up into you. “Maybe that’s just because I love you. Love that attitude, love your personality.” He breathes. “Love this perfect body you have, love the way you make me feel. And god do I love watching you put people in their fucking place.” He gasps. Thrusting up into you faster. You clutch onto the chair for dear life. “Me vuelves loca de mierda.” He gasps, tilting his head back.

You cup his cheeks, kissing him as he holds your hips, thrusting up into you. He can feel you getting tighter around him, and he’s fucked you enough to know that you’re close, so he stands up with you, lays you back on your bed, and hammers his hips into yours until your crying out his name. “Yeah, that’s it. Cum for me.” He breathes. “Muéstrame lo buena chica que eres.” He growls. You reach your peak with a gasp, eyes screwing shut and he pins your hips to the bed so that you can’t squirm away from him as he rides out your high. He grits his teeth, letting out a cry when he reaches his own orgasm. Not pulling out of you even when he knows he should.

He takes a deep breath. Pulling away from you with a sigh, moving himself to lay next to you.

When you make eye contact, he’s got that same look in his eye that makes you laugh. “What?” He rolls his eyes. “Nothing, I love you.” You breathe. “I love you too. Now Cmere.” He breathes, pulling you into him.

A knock at the door has you both going stiff.

“I think you’ve made your point, hermano.”

[ramu-ego]

I hope the requests are open, if not ignore..

But hear me out!!

The boys as tiddie suckers ??? I just know some of them would non stop.😭

and have a wonderful day, sweetie. I love your work so much ! <3

(nsfw) TIDDY BOYS :: xfemdom!Reader

can confirm yes yes yes we have some tiddy obsessed men here ♡ -askbox open cw: fem!Reader, dom!Reader, aged up, nursging/nipple play/etc, sexual content, subbier content in Ego's, unedited word count: sloppy headcanons character(s): Isagi Yoichi, Itoshi Rin, Ego Jinpachi, Kenyu Yukimiya, Nagi Seishiro

DNI :: minors, blank blogs + m!Reader blogs

one word; OBSESSED

your tits are the reason for breathing as far as he's concerned and Isagi has no problem reminding you of that daily if not hourly - schedules permitting

size doesn't matter he's a nipple man anyways

hours can be lost to them which he happily relinquishes his free time to worship your chest

squeezing, groping and licking every inch of your tiddy while he lays on his tummy kicking his feet like a happy little school girl

adores your nipples

cannot stress this enough your nipples are where he'll wrap his lips around them for hours on end

nursing, licking and the occasional bite (nothing a thump to the head won't fix)

pretty sure his mother weened him too early with how hard he'll go with his nursing kink

swears nothing in the world turns him on like your tits and it's true

9times out of 10 he's rutting into the bed mindlessly while he's nursing only to end up in a gooey puddle of his own cum from simply nursing on your tits while you play with his hair

sucking on your tits while he's inside you expect Isagi to loose his mind like a good boy

shy tit sucker

not because he sees anything wrong with it, just, shy about how much he wants to do it

your tits are constantly on his mind which frankly is unacceptable but the only remedy for his plagued thoughts?

that's right, planting himself face first in your boobs!

100% stress reliever for him but he's too dense to connect the dots and often times thinks his obsession with your tits is a vice

a vice that he inevitably gives into almost daily but it's cute to watch his internal struggle the second you walk around barless/shirtless

stares all the time it's so obvious

will blatantly tell you he's not looking at them only to come over five minutes later and put his face in them

the fattiest part of your tit is his favorite

loves the mouth feel of it and sometimes you have to remind him to explore other parts of your tit instead of just sucking on the squishiest part like a dumb calf

pls why is he this smart yet so obtuse sometimes

once he finds your nipples it's game over his lips aren't going anywhere but your clothes sure are

they're there for him to look at and touch all he wants so why would he ever invest in something as dumb as stress balls

nothing compares to his fingers diligently dimpling the fat of your breast while he massages them mindlessly going about his work

extremely handsy and perhaps a little possessive

your tits are his favorite thing and Ego sees no qualms in making the most of his love for them of course

and with fingers like that who would complain

plucking at your nipples, rolling them between his fingers until your squirming and then just pulling you back into his lap to reaffirm you can get up when he's done

Ego wanted a bigger office chair so he could accommodate you sitting in his lap and damn well he's going to get that bigger office chair for exactly that

if it's been an extra stressful day full of idiots expect his mouth to be preoccupied by what he explains is the best stress relief right under fucking

sucking on your tits of course!

mouthful, face buried in your tit for as long as he wants with a tongue as dexterous and attentive as his fingers; Ego's going to be down here a while so might as well get comfortable

bonus his hair is super soft and pettable so don't forget to pet him like a good boy

another shy tiddy sucker

but he's not as forward with his vice as say some other strikers

he's thinking about your tits 24/7

but who can blame him when they just feel so good in his hands and Kenyu couldn't live another day without the thought of getting his mouth on you

it's cute though, when he tries to control his little impulses

tries so hard but mommy knows best for a reason

the second you brush up against him Kenyu is struggling to keep his composure without making a fool of himself

but his foolish side is so cute!

take it upon yourself to force his face into your tits and watch him give into his greedy little needs like a true egoist

loves loves loves to feel them against his face

laying on your chest, nuzzling and the occasional motorboat when he gets a little excited, he just can't help it they're so warm and soft!

different levels of neediness with this one

sometimes rubbing his cheek against you while you pet his hair and hold him is more than enough

other times Kenyu won't be interrupted by even the end of the world if his lips finally find their home around your nipple

he's not very shy after you extend the invitation to let him play with your tits and good luck getting him off before he's had his fill

default nursing kink

default mommy kink

these are his factory standard settings and there is no getting rid of them

Nagi sees no issue with using your tits as his gaming pillow or even a reason why it might be inconvenient to have him sucking on them while also trying to play videogames

spoiler he drools at this angle....a lot

an obscene amount of nonsexual touching is just a given with him

hand down the shirt groping to find your tit until he's got his hands on it

then it's like an almost full body sigh like he's got his security blanket

yes you should just buy that extra large shirt bc all 6'2" of him is going to attempt to crawl into it to be closer

has a favorite boob, it's your left one, because it's closest to your heart

and yes he thinks this is just top tier romantic to love the boob above your heart

expect him to fall asleep with boob in his mouth, to sleep with boob in his hand and as just a general rule have some form of contact with your boobs whenever possible

and yes...Reo knows how obsessed with your boobs Nagi is

no thanks to Nagi