#you’re grounded and getting therapy
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pjs-daycare-new-era · 2 years ago
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Is the nap time-room easy to break into, and if it is, can I drop in and say hi, so casually- don’t send me home please.
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Especially ones associated with that other cat. -Pj
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carrionsflower · 9 months ago
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lesbianfakir · 10 months ago
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I love when I’m released out into the wild and I’m a certified #girlfreak then I come back to tumblr and there are 10 other people even crazier than me on my dash to greet me
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elexaria · 1 year ago
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dating simon riley wasn’t always easy. “i’m a bloody nutcase, eh?” he’d joke when he’d wake up in a cold sweat, taking deep breaths as his calloused thumb rasps against the soft cotton bedsheets, grounding him back to reality. “puts all my efforts to shame when i wake up like this. fuck’s sake.”
therapy is mandatory, especially given his role as lieutenant. the traumas of childhood, the torture. he thinks he’s good at dealing with his problems, thinks therapy is a waste of time. “what, it’s just a bloke sat there starin’ at me? hell, get me a piece of paper with some made up degree on it and even i could be a therapist.” he grumbles after you point out that, in fact, he’s not as good as coping with his trauma as he thinks he is.
“you need to actually give this a go, si. it’s..” you pause, biting the inside of your lip as you make breakfast. his hair is disheveled, wry strands of grey sticking up against the grain. his dark circles only exemplify just how tired he is, especially when he has his night terrors. you shake your head, sighing as you crack another egg into the frying pan. “how can i expect you to stay safe out there when you’re barely able to look after yourself when you’re home?” you sigh out as he grunts, taking a seat at the small dining table, his eyes skimming through the morning paper.
god, he’s such a stubborn bastard. it takes months to get him to at least consider finding a new therapist, to get him to actually care about his mental health. christ, if he can’t do it for himself, can’t he at least try for your sake?
and then, it’s like he has a lightbulb moment. you come home after a long day at work, only to find him sat at the dining table, writing scruffy notes in a ring bound notebook. “mission notes?” you ask curiously, keeping your eye on him as you make yourself a cup of tea. he grunts, shaking his head as he continues to write.
“it’s a diary. supposed to help with your mental health or summet.” he replies, settling his pen down to meet your gaze. you must have had a look of confusion on your face, and it makes the corners of his lips twitch up into a half-smile. “yeah, i know. a bloke like me with a diary, like i’m a bloody teenage girl.” he quips, now grinning as his fingers toy with the corners of the notebook. “writin’ about all the boys i fancy on the field.” he shoots a wink, before continuing to write some more in his notebook.
it’s actually surprising, a smile on your lips as you watch him in his own little world, actually making an effort in his mental health recovery. you come over, settling a warm cup of tea by him before pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of his head, still smiling as you make your way upstairs to give him some privacy. he comes upstairs after half an hour, chucking the diary into his bedside table drawer before sprawling out onto the bed obnoxiously with a deafening groan. you whine and complain when he purposely stretches on you, gently crushing you with his bolder-esque shoulders with a massive grin on his face.
there were still bad days, though. days where he’d hide himself in the garage to work on some of his projects. but you’re both trying, he feels his heart break when you gently knock on the door, holding a plate of snacks and a cup of tea for him, and fuck, it makes his bad day slightly better.
that evening, he curls up besides you silently on the couch, his journal and pen in hand as he clears his throat. you curiously peer down as he begins to flick through the pages of chicken scratch, gently tapping the page as he looks up at you. he clears his throat, and begins to read out the sweetest paragraph, one that makes your eyes well up with tears.
“no idea where i would be without you, love. you make the darkest days of my life brighter than ever. you make life worth it.” he ends his speech , the timbre of his voice cracking with emotion as he looks at you. and right there, you know that through all the trials and tribulations you two will go through, you’re the love of simon riley’s life and he would never let you forget that.
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wandaslittlebird · 4 months ago
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Pendulum
Wanda x Reader, WandaNat x Reader
After a session with Wanda the prior evening, you wake up alone in your bed and find you’re a bit more reliant on her than you’d like to be.
CW: Sub drop, (kinda) panic attack, mood swings, guilt, Mommy Kink, mentions of spanking, established WandaNat (no cheating), pills (Tylenol and Xanax), Wanda generally being a protective and worried mama
Word Count: 3.2k
A/N: I may know hardly anything about dom drop, but I’m ✨well versed✨ in sub drop. I honestly think this one is adorable and I hope you all enjoy.
A/N: I wasn’t doing this consciously, but reading this back I realize I kinda did a reverse YAIL, so, if you haven’t already, go check out that series by @wandasaura
Fic based on this request
You woke up in a cold sweat, gasping for air before your head even left the pillow. It was hard to find anything to ground you in your dark bedroom, but with the help of your stuffed bear, Francis, and some breathing exercises you’d been working on in therapy, you were able to calm down at least enough to breathe. Still, you found yourself dizzy, nauseous, in pain, and, perhaps most excruciatingly, alone.
Wanda. Where was Wanda? Where was your mommy? You needed mommy.
“Mommy?” You cried quietly into the empty room. But she wasn’t there. Of course she wasn’t there. She was at home, tucked peacefully into bed with Natasha, her wife. And you were here, in your cold, empty apartment, all alone.
You turned to look at the clock on your bedside table. 1:30 am. It was far too late to call her. She had to get up for work in a couple hours. You had to get up for class in a couple hours.
But god, you needed her. You needed just to hear her voice. Everything felt so empty without her here. Your brain felt like it was underwater. You couldn’t think. It felt like your mind was strapped to a pendulum, swinging back and forth between extremes. It’s like half of your mind was begging for Wanda while the other half scolded you for your over-reliance. You wanted her, but you didn’t want to want her. It was hyper-dependence clashing with hyper-independence in an internal battle that left you dazed and confused.
Just call her, you thought. She told you to call her if this ever happened.
You’d been her submissive for months, and, though you’d never actually experienced sub drop with her, the two of you had discussed it extensively. “You can call me at any time,” she’d said. “Even if it's been days. I’m here for you in any way you need me.”
You grabbed your phone from the nightstand, pulling up her contact and hovering over the call button. But before you could press it, the pendulum swung back. You hurled the phone into your beanbag on the other side of the room.
What are you thinking? You can’t call her. She’s not your fucking girlfriend. You’re so reliant on her and she doesn’t even care about you. Leave her alone. This is your mess. Handle it.
You sighed, dragging your aching body off of your mattress. Everything hurt. The wounds she’d so loving inflicted the night before ached even more than they had when they were fresh. You wanted, needed, to feel her soft hands massaging soothing balm into your skin like they had only hours prior. But no.
Wanda. Wasn’t. Here.
It was just you and you alone. You needed to take care of this. You needed to pull yourself together and handle this on your own. You felt like you might be sick. The swinging of this pendulum was nauseating. You dragged yourself to the bathroom, pulling two Tylenol and a Xanax from the medicine cabinet. You sat on the toilet, tucking your head between your knees.
You didn’t understand what was happening. Or rather, you didn’t understand why it was happening. Wanda had done everything perfectly, just like she always did. She’d insisted you stay with her until you were out of subspace and your mind was clear again. She’d given you all the cuddles and love and reassurance you could possibly want. She’d even rubbed that soothing lotion on your sore ass despite the fit you’d pitched about it. This shouldn’t be happening. She’d done everything she was supposed to do. You were the problem.
You moved from the bathroom to your living room, pacing anxious circles until you worried the neighbors would complain. Then you decided on a walk.
A little walk to clear your head. That should help. No need to bother Wanda. You could take care of this by yourself.
—————
A little over two blocks proved you could not, in fact, take care of this by yourself. You found yourself collapsed on a bench outside your favorite coffee shop, her contact pulled up on your phone, sobbing as your thumb hovered over the call button.
You clicked it, anxiously awaiting an answer through the dial tone. Every second without an answer was a battle not to hit the red button, and smash your phone on the ground so you wouldn’t be tempted to try this again.
“Hello?” You heard, not Wanda, but Natasha’s sleep addled voice.
You silently cursed, debating hanging up the phone and forgetting the whole endeavor. You had very limited experience in dealing with Natasha. Where Wanda was warm and inviting, Natasha was cold and intimidating. Wanda had told you once that Natasha had a soft spot for you, but you remained unconvinced any of Natasha’s spots were “soft”.
Wanda had explained to you that Natasha’s had submissives of her own, but she tended to prefer brats, submissives who needed a harsher hand. “It’s not that she doesn’t like you,” Wanda had explained, “she’s just not used to sweet little girls like you.”
Still, the woman terrified you. And she definitely was NOT the one you wanted to be speaking to right now. But you took a deep breath, and answered her. “H-hello, Miss Natasha. C-can I speak to Wanda?” You stammered. You couldn’t keep the tears and desperation out of your voice when you added a “…please.”
“Y-yeah, sure honey. Just a second let me get her up,” she responded tiredly.
Your heart shattered at the thought of Natasha rousing a peaceful Wanda from her sleep just because you couldn’t get yourself together. But all such thoughts faded when you heard her voice through the phone. “Angel? Is that you? Is everything okay? Are you hurt? What’s going on?”
“Mommy…” you said tearfully. “I’m okay. I promise I’m okay, I just… I don’t know what’s happening. I mean I’m dropping, I know, but… I don’t know. I just needed so badly to hear you and talk to you. I’m sorry for waking you up. I’m so sorry. I know you said….” You were rambling breathlessly, but Wanda soon cut you off.
“Breathe for me, little love,” she instructed softly. “Three deep breaths. In and out. Can you do that for me, angel?”
You nodded despite knowing she couldn’t see you over the phone. You took three audible breaths, calming yourself down.
“Good girl,” she praised. “Now, can you tell me what’s happening?”
“I… I… Sub drop, I think,” you explained. “But like, really bad.”
“Aww,” she cooed. “I’m so sorry, my little love. Can you explain to me what you're feeling? Are you in pain? Do you need company?”
“I just… I don’t know why this is happening to me,” you cried. “Everything hurts so bad. My head feels like it’s spinning. And… And my body is so sore. It’s never happened like this with you before. You did everything so perfectly. I just don’t understand why I’m being like this.”
“Sub drop can happen no matter what, honey. And I’m so sorry it’s happening to you, sweetheart. Do you need to come back over?” She asked.
You pondered her question, the pendulum inside of you swinging violently. You felt like you were being torn in half between admitting you needed her help, and feeling defeated and weak that you couldn’t handle it on your own. But eventually you remembered it didn’t really matter. You made your choice when you took the Xanax. You weren’t going anywhere now. “I-I took some medicine. I can’t drive. I’m sorry,” you admitted.
“What medicine?” She asked, panicked. “Did you take too much? Are you okay?”
“It was just a Xanax. Just one. Just like I take for school sometimes,” you reassured.
You heard her breathe a sigh of relief on the other end of the line. “Okay, sweetheart. I’m sorry I panicked. You know I just worry sometimes. I tell you what, Nat and I are going to get you an Uber, and then you can spend the rest of the night here, okay?”
“Wanda, you don’t have to-“ You didn’t use her real name very often given the exclusively sexual nature of your relationship, but you needed her to know she wasn’t responsible for being your dominant right now. She was Wanda, and you were you: two grown adults. She didn’t have any obligation to take care of you right now, in the middle of the night on a Wednesday.
“But I want to, darling,” she interrupted. “Is that okay?”
“Y-yeah, but I’m not at the house right now.”
You heard her breath catch. “Where are you, honey? You promise me you’re safe?”
“I-I’m just at the coffee shop,” you explained. “I wanted to take a walk, b-but I didn’t make it very far.”
Wanda sighed. She’d have to have a little talk with you about walking all by yourself in the middle of the night. But not right now. Right now she just needed you in her arms as quickly as she could have you. “Alright, love. You’ve got a car on its way. Just stay on the phone with me until it gets there, okay?”
“O-okay.”
—————
The car was there within five minutes of Wanda’s order. Most of that time was just filled with tears and mumbled apologies on your end, and reassurance and encouragement on hers.
She waited anxiously by the front door for you to arrive, peeking out of the blinds with every set of headlights that passed by. She clutched her robe tight against her chest. If you were there, you would’ve teased her about her anxious habit. You always said she was “practically clutching her pearls.”
When you finally pulled into the driveway, she was standing in the front door frame before you could even get out of the car.
“Mommy!” You ran up to her, nearly tripping on the front porch steps on your way in. You were even more hysterical now that you were seeing her in person. Something about the sight of her made you fall apart. You felt safe now. You were going to fall, and she was going to catch you, and everything was going to be okay.
“Careful, love,” she chided, taking you into her arms. “Mommy’s got you. It’s okay. You’re okay. I’m gonna take care of you and I’m not gonna let anything bad happen to you.”
It sounded more like she was reassuring herself than anything, but her words still washed over you like a wave of relief. “I missed you, mommy.”
“I know you did, angel,” she said, kissing you on the temple. “Mommy missed you, too.”
She wrapped her arms just under your ass, still sore and super sensitive from your activities earlier that night. She picked you up, wrapping your legs around your waist. You squeaked in a mixture of surprise and pain.
“I’m sorry, baby. I know you’re sore. I’ll be gentle,” she cooed. “Let’s get you to bed. Tasha will be waiting for us.”
You just cried, burying your face into Wanda’s neck as she carried you up the stairs. You couldn’t talk anymore. You were so completely exhausted, mentally and physically. But it was okay. You had your mommy and everything was going to be okay. The bedroom door was already open, and, as Wanda had expected, Natasha was sat up against the headboard.
“Is that a little angel I see there?” You heard Natasha ask. Wanda sat you on her lap at the end of the bed, bending down to take off your shoes.
You peaked your eyes out from Wanda’s neck before perching your chin on her shoulder. “Hi Miss Natasha,” you sniffled. “I’m sorry I woke you up.”
“That’s alright, little angel,” she assured, sliding closer to you and Wanda on the bed. She looked so much kinder than usual, soft sleepy eyes smiling at you through your tears. “Is it okay if I touch you?”
You nodded, still teary eyed and snotty on Wanda’s lap while she unlaced your shoes.
Natasha cupped your cheek, wiping away stray tears. “It must’ve been so scary to start dropping without your mommy there, huh?” Her touch was unexpectedly gentle, as were her words. Maybe Wanda was right, maybe she really did have a soft spot for you.
You nodded, trying to speak but only managing to whimper a “mhm.” You blushed a little with embarrassment. Wanda must’ve told her all about your situation. You wondered momentarily if she thought your behavior was overblown or ridiculous, but if she did, her gentle face showed no indication.
“But now you’ve got your mommy and everything’s gonna be okay, right?”
You nodded again. “I-I hope you don’t mind if I steal your wife for a little bit for-for some extra snuggles.”
“Not at all little angel.” Natasha smiled softly. She could see your anxious embarrassment, and decided, despite her inexperience with soft subs, she’d make an attempt to soothe you. She knew she wasn't expected to, but she found herself desperate to make you feel better, even if it was only a little bit. “Your mommy could hardly stop bragging about you tonight, you know?”
“Re-really?” You asked. Natasha could see the tiniest little twinkle in your teary eyes.
“Really,” she confirmed. “She told me she was so proud of her sweet girl for calling her, because that must’ve been so scary for her, to call in the middle of the night. She knows you don’t like to wake people up, and asking for help when you need it is so so hard. And I said ‘wow, it sounds like you have the bravest little angel in the whole world. I think she deserves some extra special snuggles from mommy tonight, for being so brave.’”
“Y-you really think so?” you asked bashfully, hiding back in Wanda’s neck.
“I really do,” she confirmed. “And you know your mommy keeps her phone on silent in the nighttime. But she cares about you so much she has a special setting so it rings just for you.”
You smiled. Your heart fluttered, not only at the idea Wanda had her phone on for you, but also at the thought that Natasha must’ve known it was you before she answered. “I-I thought you might be mad at me,” you confessed. “Cause you and-and mommy were probably all snuggled up in bed and I came in and messed it all up!”
Natasha stroked your cheek as she shook her head. “No angel. Never. You could never mess up one of our snuggles by asking to be a part of it. We’re both so proud of you, for calling and getting help.”
“P-promise?” You asked.
Natasha held out her pinky, which you wrapped with your own. “Promise.” She confirmed.
Wanda finally got your shoes off and placed them on the floor next to the bed. “Okay little love,” she announced, easing your pajama pants down around your knees. “I’m gonna get some of the nice lotion again, okay?” She’d already put a little on earlier, but she figured it would probably do quite a bit to soothe your current pains, both physically and emotionally.
You wrapped yourself around her, refusing to let her move. You didn’t need silly lotion, you needed her. You whined at the prospect of having to let go.
Natasha giggled and sat down next to Wanda. “Do you want me to do your lotion while you hang onto mommy?”
You nodded, sending her into the next room. Wanda kissed your temple. “I told you she likes you.”
“I’m so spoiled,” you mumbled blissfully into her neck.
“You deserve it, angel,” she said.
Natasha returned to the room with the bottle of lotion. She approached you and rubbed your back gently. “Alright little angel, is it okay if I touch your bottom, or do you want mommy to do that part?”
You pondered for a moment. On one hand, having Wanda do it would mean getting to lay over her lap again. But, you found yourself inexplicably excited by the thought of Natasha putting your lotion on. Maybe, if you played your cards right, you could have the best of both worlds.
“You can do it, Miss Natasha,” you said while flipping yourself over to lay over Wanda’s lap.
“Oh,” Wanda squeaked in pleasant surprise. From this position she could’ve just as easily applied the lotion. She was pleased to know that you wanted Natasha to do it, though. She pulled up your shirt and rubbed your back.
“Okay, it’s gonna be a little cold,” Natasha advised, giggling a little bit when you jumped at the cool liquid anyway. Her hands were so gentle as she soothed your raw skin. You wondered if she was this gentle with her subs as well. “All done. Do you want a kiss?”
You nodded, feeling so completely at ease with the two women taking care of you. Natasha placed a gentle kiss to each of your red ass cheeks.
“Does Tasha’s kisses make it feel all better?” Wanda asked.
You nodded into Wanda’s thigh.
“I’m glad I could help,” Natasha giggled, placing the lotion on Wanda’s nightstand so it’d be ready for you again in the morning. She crawled back into bed, making herself comfortable on her side.
Wanda placed you face down on her own side of the bed, trying not to disturb you too much as she slid her legs out from under your body. She crawled over you, placing herself in the middle between you and Natasha, pulling you tight into her side.
You laid your head on her chest, catching a glimpse of Natasha’s pretty smile in the low lighting. She really didn’t look like she minded you being here at all. In fact, she looked happy.
In your fuzzy haze, you waved at her from across the bed.
Wanda and Natasha both giggled, hearts swelling at the innocence of the gesture. You just wanted Natasha to feel included, and what better way to acknowledge her presence than with a kind wave hello.
Natasha waved back. “Hi, little angel,” she said, reaching over Wanda to pinch your cheek.
You looked up at Wanda, your big eyes gently pleading. “Mommy, do you think I could sleep on your other side so I can be closer to Miss Natasha?”
Wanda smiled giddily. She never expected such a request from you, but she was more than happy to oblige. She was overjoyed to see your relationship with Natasha growing. “Of course, sweet girl,” she said, effortlessly flipping you over to her other side.
“You know, you don’t have to call her Miss Natasha,” Wanda said. You’d always called her that since you’d first met her without any prompting to do so. She certainly didn’t mind, but Wanda had always secretly hoped you’d get past the formality. There was nothing she wanted more than for her two favorite people to love each other as much as she loved them. “I bet she’d like it if you called her daddy. Only if you wanted to.”
You faced Natasha, who looked surprised at the proposal, but nodded.
“I thought only your subs were allowed to call you that?” You said, equally shocked by Wanda’s words.
“Hmm…” she pretended to ponder the question. “For my little angel I think I can make an exception.”
You smiled. “In that case,” you pressed a small kiss to her cheek. “Goodnight daddy.” You turned back to Wanda, placing a kiss on her jaw as you snuggled back into her chest. “Goodnight mommy. I love you.”
“Sweet dreams, little angel,” Natasha said, wrapping herself up behind you.
“Get some rest, little love,” Wanda said, kissing your head.
And finally, the pendulum stopped swinging.
Taglist (ha I remembered this time): @boredandneedsfanfic @marvelwomenarehot0
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delulustateofmind · 1 month ago
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Can My Friend Join?
Your boyfriend wants his murderer of a best friend to join your relationship. You'll do that for him, right?
Yan!SatoSugu x Reader
Part two
TW: Yandere Behaviors, dubcon/noncon?, Manipulation, SatoSugu, Potential grammatical/spelling errors, oral/fingering (f! receiving), Trapping/love bombing. MDNI
WC: 5.2k
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You see, it wasn’t totally unlike your boyfriend to make crazy decisions.
Satoru was rash, impulsive, yet completely and utterly in love with you in a way that made it hard to say no to him. And he always knew how to work that to his advantage. You’d let him get away with just about anything—like buying a penthouse in Shibuya without even stepping foot in it, or whisking you off on spontaneous trips for “work” that had your boss threatening to fire you every time you gave him a last-minute call about your absence.
Crazy decisions were his specialty, after all. Including the craziest one of all: dating you, a non sorcerer, that was not a well-kept secret from his clan.
And now, his most recent decision was leaving you staring at him in stunned disbelief.
“Come on, baby, he’s going to therapy,” Satoru murmured into your ear, his arms snug around your waist as he rested his chin on your shoulder. His voice was soft, almost coaxing, as he peppered gentle kisses along the curve of your neck. “You remember Sugu, right? You even mentioned you had a little crush on him before we started dating.”
Suguru Geto. The man who’d slaughtered a village, started a cult, and declared genocide on nonsorcerers like you.
But now, according to Satoru, he was “better.” Redeemed, even. Whatever that meant. He wasn’t a deranged cult leader anymore, apparently. Therapy had fixed him. Or at least, that’s what Satoru was claiming with his usual breezy confidence.
“My love,” you began softly, setting the tea you’d been preparing down to turn and face him. His cerulean eyes shone with that familiar affection, the corners crinkling slightly as he gazed down at you like you hung the moon. It made your chest ache. “I know you two… had a thing. But why does he need to be a part of our relationship?”
You tried to keep your tone gentle, like you were trying to reason with him. Because, honestly, you were.
Satoru tilted his head, his grin widening just enough to tell you he’d been prepared for this question. “Mmm, well,” he started, the teasing lilt of his voice softening. “You were there for me, weren’t you? You’ve kept me grounded—saved me, even.” He leaned in to nuzzle against your cheek. “I figured… maybe you could do the same for him. Help him down a better path, you know? Keep an eye on him.”
Your heart sank.
“And,” he added with a sheepish laugh, his blush deepening as his hand rubbed the back of his neck, “well, he was actually the one who suggested it.”
That had your stomach twisting uncomfortably. You searched his face for answers, for some sign that this wasn’t as serious as it sounded. But all you found was that lovesick smile of his.
And you knew.
Satoru still had feelings for Suguru. He’d never said it outright, but the signs were there. The way his voice softened when he spoke of him. The wistful, almost mournful glint in his eyes whenever Suguru’s name came up. And, of course, the times he’d accidentally murmured Suguru’s name in moments of intimacy with you.
Your throat felt tight.
“Satoru…” You struggled to find the words, to balance the storm of emotions swirling in your chest. Jealousy. Confusion. Heartbreak. And, strangely enough, pity.
“It won’t change anything between us,” he said quickly, like he could see your doubts forming. His hands cupped your face, his thumbs brushing soothingly against your skin. “I promise. You’re my person—my love. I just… I can’t let him go again. Not like before.”
You swallowed hard, your voice barely above a whisper. “And what if I can’t do this? What if I can’t… share you?”
Satoru’s expression softened, his usual playful confidence replaced with something raw and pleading. “Please,” he murmured, his voice quieter than you’d ever heard it. It wasn’t like him to plead. To beg. “Just think about it, okay? You won’t be home alone as much anymore when I’m out on missions. With Suguru back, there’ll be two strongest sorcerers. That means I won’t have to work or be on call as much. I’m thinking about us, baby.”
His words were so earnest, so filled with affection, that they pressed against your chest like a weight. You should’ve voiced your opinions, should’ve argued, but the guilt crept in before you could. Satoru had done so much for you—letting you live with him rent-free, covering your schooling, and showering you with a kind of love that had felt impossible in a world where you were so much weaker than him.
How could you say no to him? Not after everything.
So, what if you were allowing some murderer into your relationship? Satoru said he was better now. Satoru loved you. He wouldn’t steer you wrong… right?
You bit your lip, glancing away before nodding hesitantly. “Can we… take things slow, Toru?” Your voice was soft, almost unsure, as you sheepishly met his gaze.
Satoru’s face lit up with relief, his cerulean eyes shining so brightly it was almost blinding. “Oh, of course, baby. As slow as you need to. I know I can be a bit… eager, heh,” he said with a nervous laugh, his hands cupping your cheeks tenderly. Then, with a playful grin, he squished them together, molding your lips into silly fishy shapes.
“There it is! Cute as ever,” he teased, leaning closer, his voice softer now. “But I still love you. You know that, right?”
You nodded automatically, leaning into his touch despite the unease swirling in your stomach. Perhaps, you were overthinking this. Relationships need a bit of spice, right?
“I know,” you murmured, forcing a small smile. “I love you too.”
The words almost came automatically, yet your anxiety continued to ring alarming bells.
He grinned, his usual teasing confidence returning as he kissed your forehead. “That’s my baby. I knew you’d understand.”
And so, within a week, Suguru Geto moved in.
It was awkward at first. You weren’t sure how to act around him—this man who carried a dark, complicated history yet exuded a calm, almost disarming aura. Offering shy smiles felt like the extent of your bravery, and more often than not, you retreated to the sanctuary of your bedroom.
At least Suguru had the decency to move into the guest room initially. That small gesture was a relief in itself. And thankfully, with Satoru and Suguru being sorcerers, you were rarely alone with him. At least not yet.
But Suguru was... considerate. You couldn’t deny that. He had a quiet, almost effortless charm, and while you had your issues—big issues—you couldn’t ignore the fact that he was a handsome, beautiful man.
“Ah, do you need help?” Suguru asked one day, his deep voice breaking the silence as he spotted you reaching for the Christmas decorations tucked away on the highest shelf of the closet.
You froze for a moment, clutching at the edge of the shelf. “No, I’ll be alright… thank you,” you murmured, your voice almost too shy.
Suguru tilted his head, his dark eyes softening as he took a step closer. “It’s no trouble. Here.” Without waiting for permission, he reached up effortlessly, his height making quick work of retrieving the box.
You thanked him quietly, clutching the box as you avoided his gaze. His lips quirked into a faint smile, but he said nothing, stepping back to give you space.
Then there were the times he helped without hesitation, like during grocery trips.
Satoru would inevitably dart off down the aisles, hunting for sweets or whatever caught his attention. Suguru, on the other hand, stuck to your side, the picture of calm efficiency. He’d scan the list you held, nodding thoughtfully before reaching for items on the shelves—always grabbing your favorite brands without you needing to say a word.
“You cook often, don’t you?” he remarked once, glancing at the cart as he placed a box of your preferred pasta into it.
“Uh, yeah,” you replied, startled by how observant he was. “It’s… kind of relaxing.”
He hummed in agreement, his expression neutral but not unkind. “I can see that. I’ll have to try some of your cooking sometime.”
The comment left you flustered, unsure how to respond. Satoru would’ve teased you mercilessly, but Suguru simply kept moving, scanning the shelves like he wasn’t even aware of the small storm brewing in your chest.
It was moments like these—small, thoughtful gestures and quiet interactions—that left you unsettled. Suguru wasn’t what you expected. You’d braced yourself for someone dangerous, cold, someone you couldn’t trust. But instead, he was... kind. Maybe too kind.
And that was what unnerved you the most.
Because every time you caught his lingering gaze or noticed the way he seemed to effortlessly fit into your routines, you couldn’t help but wonder: Was he doing this for Satoru? Or was he doing it for you?
It started off slow. Like a light sprinkle before the storm. 
Satoru was still the same as ever—the fun-loving boyfriend, full of laughter and mischief. He’d press kisses to your cheek, wrap you in his arms, and tease you in that playful way that made your heart flutter. But lately, his words carried a strange edge, a hint of something you couldn’t quite place.
“Maybe start showing Sugu a bit of love,” he teased one evening, nuzzling against your neck as you brushed your teeth. “He’s trying, y’know. Don’t be difficult, baby.”
You froze for a moment, the brush stilling in your hand as you quickly spit out the toothpaste. That… hurt. His tone was light, but the implication stung. Was he disappointed in you?
Still, you managed a tight smile and nodded, swallowing your unease. “I’ll try.”
Satoru grinned, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple. “That’s my baby.”
But then Suguru began to be more… involved.
It wasn’t anything overt at first. He’d sit quietly in the living room while you watched TV, occasionally commenting on the plot like a polite guest. Not as the boyfriend he was supposed to be, that you didn’t want him to be. He’d help with household chores without being asked, his quiet competence a stark contrast to Satoru’s chaotic energy.
But there was something about the way his presence lingered—like a shadow stretching further than it should.
“Tired?” he asked one evening, his voice like honey as you struggled to keep your eyes open on the couch. You felt him sit down beside you, close enough that his warmth seeped into your side.
You nodded, your words slurring slightly. “Yeah… long day.”
Suguru reached out, his fingers brushing against your temple as he tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. The touch was gentle, almost tender, but his dark eyes… they hid something.
“You should rest more,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “Satoru worries about you.”
You blinked, struggling to process his words. “He does?”
Suguru smiled faintly, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Of course. We both do.”
The way he said it—we—sent a strange chill down your spine.
As the days passed, the small, unsettling moments began to pile up.
Suguru had a way of always being there, always watching. When you left a room, you’d turn to find his gaze following you. When you spoke, he listened so intently it felt like he was dissecting your every word.
And Satoru, who’d always been possessive in his teasing way, started pushing boundaries in ways he hadn’t before.
One evening, as you tried to excuse yourself to your bedroom after dinner, Satoru caught your wrist, pulling you back to the living room where Suguru sat quietly.
“Don’t run off so quick,” he said, his grin wide but his grip firm. “We’re a family now, aren’t we? Stay with us for a bit.”
Suguru looked up from his tea, his dark eyes locking onto yours. “Satoru’s right,” he said softly, his lips curving into a small, almost inviting smile. “It’s nice when we’re all together.”
The way they looked at you—Satoru’s bright gaze brimming with love, Suguru’s dark eyes filled with something deeper, darker—made you feel trapped.
And then, Satoru had to leave.
He was off to Kenya for a mission with a student, and for the first time in what felt like forever, the apartment felt… quieter. You’d thought, perhaps foolishly, that Suguru would be sent off somewhere too, leaving you to breathe for a moment, to process.
But no.
Suguru stayed.
The first few nights felt strange, the absence of Satoru’s boundless energy a sharp contrast to Suguru’s quiet, deliberate presence. He wasn’t pushy—if anything, he gave you more space than usual, offering soft smiles and polite conversation. But there was always something in the air, something unspoken, something that made the silence between you feel heavier than it should.
And then, one night, as you lay in what felt like a bed too big without Satoru’s warmth beside you, you felt it—a hand wrapping around your waist, firm yet gentle, pulling you back against a solid chest.
Your breath hitched as a woodsy, earthy scent filled your nose, inky dark hair brushing against your shoulders.
Your heart sank once again, something it’s been doing a little too much as of late. 
“You’re awake,” Suguru murmured softly, his voice warm and low, like he’d been waiting for you to notice. His lips ghosted against your cheek in a feather-light kiss, making your skin prickle. “Satoru said I should join you. Keep you safe.”
Safe? The word felt foreign, almost cruel, as if it was meant to comfort you when it did the exact opposite.
“Suguru,” you said, your voice trembling as you tried to pull away, but his arm around your waist tightened, holding you in place.
“Shh,” he soothed, his breath warm against your ear. “It’s okay. I know it feels strange, but Satoru trusts me to look after you. He said you get lonely when he’s away.”
Your stomach twisted. This wasn’t Satoru’s doing—at least, not entirely. This was Suguru, using Satoru’s words, his trust, to inch closer, to blur the lines you’d been desperately trying to hold onto.
“You don’t have to do this,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.
His hand moved, sliding up to rest lightly against your ribs, his touch slow and deliberate. “I want to,” he murmured. “You deserve someone to care for you, even when Satoru can’t. That’s what we agreed on, isn’t it?”
You froze. Agreed on?
The realization hit you like a wave, cold and suffocating. This wasn’t just Satoru’s idea. This wasn’t just about keeping you “safe” or “happy.” This was part of something bigger, something the two of them had decided for you, without you.
“I don’t think—” you started, but Suguru cut you off, his voice still maddeningly calm.
“You don’t have to think,” he said softly, almost kindly, as his fingers brushed against your jaw, tilting your head slightly so he could press a kiss to your temple. “Just go to sleep, yeah?”
But the way his grip on you remained firm, the way his body pressed so closely against yours, made it abundantly clear that this wasn’t a request.
Your heart pounded in your chest, a frantic rhythm that you were sure he could feel where his arm wrapped around your waist. Go to sleep? How could you possibly sleep with this man lying so close, his breath steady against the back of your neck, his warmth invading every inch of your space?
Suguru shifted slightly, his arm pulling you tighter against him as though sensing your discomfort. “You’re tense,” he murmured, his tone carrying a strange gentleness. “It’s okay to relax. I’m here.”
His words sent shivers down your body and tendrils of anxiety in your mind, and you squeezed your eyes shut, willing yourself to calm down. But how could you relax when your instincts screamed that something was wrong? That something about him, about this situation, was profoundly off?
You tried to focus on your breathing, hoping it would drown out the sound of your racing thoughts. But every inhale carried the faint, woodsy scent of him—so different from Satoru’s familiar, comforting smell. It was calming, yet suffocating all at once.
A small voice crept in your mind, you shouldn’t feel calm. 
Suguru hummed softly, a low, melodic sound that sent another wave of unease through you. “You smell nice,” he said, almost absentmindedly. His nose brushed against your hair, and you froze as he inhaled deeply. “Like home.”
The words were meant to be reassuring, you thought. But they felt wrong, invasive, like he was claiming a piece of you that wasn’t his to take.
You wanted to say something—anything—but the words caught in your throat. And in that silence, Suguru’s hand shifted, moving from your ribs to rest lightly against your stomach, the weight of it grounding and possessive.
“You’re safe with me,” he whispered, his voice softer now, almost tender. Almost loving. “I’ll keep you safe. Just sleep, okay?”
Your throat tightened, and your breathing came faster as you tried to steady yourself. Safe. He kept using that word, as though repeating it would make it true. As if he were tricking your mind into thinking it was true. 
But how could you feel safe when every instinct in your body screamed at you to run?
Suguru’s grip didn’t waver, and the steady rhythm of his breathing filled the silence, lulling you into a state of uneasy stillness. You didn’t know how long you lay there, rigid and wide-eyed, before exhaustion began to weigh on you.
Your body betrayed you before your mind could catch up. Slowly, reluctantly, your eyes fluttered shut, and your breathing evened out.
You stirred awake to a sensation so surreal, so tender, that in your dreamlike haze, you convinced yourself it was Satoru.
The soft brush of hair between your thighs, a large, calloused hand rested on the fat of your thighs, keeping your legs open, as your eyes were slowly opening from sleep. 
You felt his tongue drift up you sopping slit, moving to circle around your bundle of nerves, a whine escaping your lips as you shifted a little only for a warm hand to press against your abdomen to keep you from moving as he continued to dive deep into your cunt, his tongue switching from spelling a name on your sensitive clit to fucking your tight dripping heat. You couldn’t help but muffle your moans by biting the sheets. 
“Toru…” You whimpered out in pathetic small breaths. “Feels…s’good” it wasn’t like Satoru to be this in-depth with eating you out. It felt like he was mapping out your entire insides as he slowly inserted a finger into your dripping mess. 
You felt a nip on your inner thigh, causing a whine and for you to finally open your eyes. 
“Wrong boyfriend,” Suguru murmured, his voice a low, velvety hum that sent a shiver rippling down your spine. His dark eyes gleamed with amusement as he hovered just above your pussy that clenched around his fat finger that curled in just the right spot, your gummy walls clenching, no, greedily sucking in. His lips curled into a faint, knowing smirk. 
He tilted his head, his inky hair brushing against your trembling thighs as he leaned back down, his movements deliberate, controlled, as though savoring every moment of your reaction. His breath ghosted over your poor pussy, slowly licking up the mess you were leaking as he pushed his finger knuckle deep inside you, before slowly, teasingly adding another one of his thick fingers inside. Compared to Satoru’s thin long fingers, his was different, it was almost mind-numbing as your poor cunny tightened at the sudden intrusion of another finger.  
“Suguru” You panted out. “I-” and a gasp left your lips as you felt him curl both his fingers. Hitting that sweet spot that made you see stars, no colors, all sorts of stars and colors, as he pried you open. Your mouth left agape as you tried to think of anything besides the pleasure and the sickening wet sounds that were filling the bedroom. 
You shouldn’t be enjoying this. You mind sang to you. But god, did it feel so good. 
“Mmmm, such a sweet pussy” he said softly before lightly sucking on your nub, earning sweet moans and whispers from your lips “Want me to stop, pretty?”  he said softly as he released your poor abused little clit with a loud pop. Offering a small kitten lick as you were trying to form a coherent sentence. 
“Come on, baby girl, use your words f’me.” His fingers slipping out of your slickened folds that caused you to look down at him with half-lidded eyes and a pout. You were so fucked.  
“You need me don’t you? Need me to help you?” He said softly as he pulled away, his big warm hand cupping your heat as you bucked your hips, his thumb lightly grazing your clit, toying with it softly. His chin glistened with your juices as he moved close to your face. 
It didn’t help that he was so devastatingly attractive—so effortlessly pretty, yet undeniably handsome. Every sharp line of his jaw, every curve of his lips, and the way his dark eyes seemed to pierce straight through you made it impossible to look away, even when you wanted to. Even when you knew you should.
“Give me a kiss, just one little kiss, and then I’ll let you cum. Okay, pretty?” Suguru hummed softly, his gaze lingering on your plump, red lips, his voice almost syrupy in its coaxing. His dark eyes sparkled with amusement as he took in the teary-eyed expression you offered him. “Can you do that for me?”
You wanted to fight him. Wanted to kick him off, shove him away, bite that insufferable smirk right off his face.
But he made you feel so good.
You were warm, fuzzy, and completely disconnected from yourself. Every logical thought dissolved into the haze of pleasure he’d wrapped you in. Your body betrayed you, nodding mindlessly like some desperate, needy thing you hardly recognized.
“One kiss?” you murmured meekly, your voice trembling.
Suguru’s grin widened, predatory and oh-so smug. “Just one,” he purred, watching as your eyes flickered away from him.
That’s when you saw it.
The camera.
Nestled discreetly in the corner of the room, its cold, unblinking lens stared back at you. Your stomach dropped, the haze clearing just enough for panic to creep in.
Suguru followed your gaze, and when he saw what had caught your attention, he chuckled—a low, dark sound that sent a shiver down your spine.
“Oh,” he said smoothly, as though you’d stumbled upon a delightful surprise. “You found the camera.” He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against yours, his voice a whisper now. “Say hi to Toru.”
Before you could react, his lips crashed against yours, the kiss fierce and consuming, stealing the breath from your lungs. It wasn’t gentle—it was possessive, demanding, a declaration that left no room for resistance. His hand slid to the back of your neck, holding you in place as his tongue brushed against yours, coaxing a response you couldn’t deny.
Every fleeting thought of resistance melted under the heat of his touch, leaving you utterly at his mercy, the world narrowing to the overwhelming intensity of him.
That fuzzy, dreamlike feeling reeled in your mind, spinning you further into a haze. The high you were on didn’t feel natural—it was too consuming, too overwhelming. Even after you came for the nth time, your body still burned with need, craving more despite the exhaustion creeping into your limbs.
You glanced at Suguru through the haze, his expression soft, almost tender, as he leaned down to scoop you into his arms. His strength was effortless, and the gentle smile that tugged at his lips felt entirely out of place with the aching mess he’d left you in.
“Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?” he hummed softly, cradling you as though you weighed nothing.
Your body refused to cooperate, too spent and trembling to do anything but lay limply in his embrace. Resigning yourself to your inability to fight, you rested your head against his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath beneath your cheek. It was almost comforting if not for the gnawing unease beneath the surface of your mind.
As he carried you to the bathroom, his voice broke the silence, low and soothing. “Satoru’s coming home today,” he said, his tone so calm, so casual, that it sent a chill down your spine. “He’s going to be so proud of the progress we made, yeah?”
The words hung in the air, their weight suffocating.
The day stretched on in a blur, and though Suguru remained by your side, tending to you with a gentleness that felt far too intimate, you couldn’t shake the words he’d spoken.
Satoru’s coming home today. He’s going to be so proud of the progress we made.
Each passing moment only tightened the knot in your stomach, the uneasy anticipation building to a crescendo by the time the front door opened with Satoru’s familiar sing-song call.
“My sweet sugar bears, I’m home!”
His voice echoed through the apartment, bright and teasing as always, but it carried a weight that hadn’t been there before. You stiffened, clutching the edges of the blanket Suguru had wrapped around you as you sat on the couch, your heart pounding in your chest.
Suguru, seated beside you with a calm, almost serene expression, stood and moved to greet him. “Welcome back,” he said, his tone warm and inviting.
Satoru appeared moments later, his bright cerulean eyes sweeping over the room before landing on you. His grin widened, mischievous and utterly unapologetic.
“There’s my girl,” he said, striding over and crouching in front of you. His hand reached out to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing gently against your skin. “Missed you.”
You swallowed hard, unsure of what to say as his gaze lingered on you, almost too intently.
Then he turned his attention to Suguru, who was now leaning casually against the wall, his arms crossed as he watched the interaction unfold.
“And you,” Satoru said, his grin taking on a sharper edge. “You really outdid yourself this time, Sugu.”
Suguru inclined his head slightly, the faintest trace of a smirk tugging at his lips. “I’m glad you think so. She was… responsive.”
Your stomach twisted at the way they spoke, as if you weren’t even there—or worse, as if you were some sort of project they’d been collaborating on.
Satoru’s attention flicked back to you, and his grin softened into something almost affectionate. “I loved the video,” he said, his voice low as he leaned closer, his breath brushing against your ear. “You looked so perfect for him, baby. It made me jealous.”
Your blood ran cold.
“The—video?” you managed to whisper, your voice trembling as your mind raced to catch up.
Satoru tilted his head, his grin widening again as he straightened. “Oh, come on, don’t play coy now,” he teased, reaching out to ruffle your hair like you were some pet he was fond of. “You knew about the camera, didn’t you? Suguru said you even looked right at it.”
Suguru’s chuckle was low, almost inaudible, but it caused your chest to tighten. Throat to clench up, you suddenly wanted to cry. 
“We’ll have to make more next time,” Satoru continued, his tone light, almost playful, like he was discussing something as mundane as dinner plans. His grin stretched wide, carefree, but his words carried a weight that left your chest tight. “But don’t worry—I’ll be in the next one. No way I’m missing out again.”
The floor beneath you might as well have disappeared. The weight of their words pressed down on you, heavy and suffocating, and your heart hammered as panic welled in your chest.
“No,” you said, your voice trembling. “No, this isn’t… This isn’t right. You can’t just—”
Suguru stepped forward, his movements unhurried, deliberate. His dark eyes locked onto yours, unreadable yet brimming with a quiet intensity that made your skin prickle. He stopped just behind Satoru, his presence looming, steady.
“We’re a team, after all,” he said softly, his voice smooth and calm, like he was explaining something obvious. “It’s only fair we share.”
“No,” you said again, louder this time. The word came out sharp, cutting through the air like a blade, though your hands trembled as you clenched them into fists. “This isn’t fair. This isn’t normal, Satoru, Suguru—this isn’t love.”
For a moment, the room seemed to freeze, the weight of your words hanging in the tense silence.
Suguru’s lips curled into a faint smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Is that what you think?” he asked, his tone soft, almost disappointed. He tilted his head slightly, his dark hair spilling over his shoulder as he regarded you with something akin to pity. “You think this isn’t love?”
“Yes,” you said, though the tremor in your voice betrayed your confidence. “This isn’t right. You’re asking too much—this isn’t something I can give.”
Suguru took another step closer, his gaze unwavering. “And what do you think love is, then?” he asked, his voice low, coaxing. “Is it not trust? Devotion? Sacrifice?” He leaned in slightly, his presence suffocating as his words wrapped around you like a vice. “After everything Satoru and I have done for you, everything we’ve given you as of late—are you really saying we don’t deserve your love in return?”
Your breath caught in your throat, the weight of his words sinking into your chest like stones. You had to swallow back your tears. “That’s not what I—”
“But it is,” Suguru interrupted, his voice never rising, never breaking its calm, steady cadence. “You’re saying no to us. To him. To me. After everything we’ve done to keep you safe, to give you the life you have now.”
You’d be nothing without them. You almost owe your life to Satoru alone. 
His words twisted in your mind, sharp and cutting, making you question the thoughts you’d clung to just moments before. He stepped even closer, his dark eyes softening, his tone shifting to something almost tender. “Do you really think it’s fair to push us away when all we want is to love you? To care for you? To protect you?”
Your lips parted, but the words died in your throat.
Satoru crouched slightly to meet your gaze, his cerulean eyes wide and impossibly soft. “Don’t you love me?” he asked, his voice heartbreakingly gentle. “Because if you do, baby, then you can love us.”
Suguru nodded, his smile warming into something deceptively kind. “We’re not asking for much,” he murmured. “Just for you to trust us. To let us take care of you. Isn’t that what love is about?”
The room spun, their words swirling in your mind, drowning out the panic that had gripped you moments before. Their voices, so soothing, so insistent, chipped away at your resolve, making you question everything you thought you knew.
“Shh, you’re cryin’,” Satoru said softly, brushing his fingers against your cheek, his touch gentle as he wiped your hot frustrated tears. “Don’t overthink it, baby. Just let us love you. That’s all we want.”
Suguru’s hand came to rest lightly on your shoulder, his grip firm but not forceful, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “You don’t want to disappoint us, do you? Satoru has given you everything. Don’t you think you owe us this much?”
The words struck deep, guilt twisting in your chest as you struggled to breathe.
They loved you. This is love, right?
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hazbinwhoree · 11 months ago
Note
ADAM WITH A HEAVY BREEDING KINK WHEN???
Come Inside
Part 1/2 Part 2
A/N: This shit is absolutely sinful.
Adam’s breeding kink, much like his virginity kink, was rooted in his abandonment issues.
Normally, (Name) would feel a need to address that (therapy friend), but she couldn’t really care when he was inside of her, fucking her like he hated her.
Adam’s sex drive never failed to impress her. They’d already had sex that morning, and they were just watching a movie when suddenly he was on her again.
“Adam,” she giggled as he sucked on her neck. “We literally had sex two hours ago.”
“Not my fault you’re so fuckin’ sexy, babe,” Adam said against her neck. He continued marking her, one hand slipping under her shirt and fondling her breast, and one hand travelling down to rub between her legs over her sweatpants.
(Name) moaned. Adam removed his face from her neck and connected their lips in a passionate kiss. (Name) slipped her fingers under the base of Adam’s mask and pulled back. She looked at him, the question in her eyes. Can I? Adam nodded after a moment.
(Name) pulled his mask up and over his head, discarding it on the floor. (Name) smiled, tangling her fingers in his hair and pulling his head forward to kiss him again. Adam kissed back with vigor, forcing his tongue into her mouth.
The hand fondling her breast pinched her nipple, and the hand that was rubbing between her legs suddenly slipped under her sweatpants and panties.
(Name) gasped, throwing her head back. Adam licked down the column of her neck. He slid two slender fingers into her, and (Name)’s breathing became heavier. He scissored his fingers experimentally before adding a third.
(Name) sighed, her head falling forward and resting her forehead against Adam’s.
Adam didn’t spend long loosening her up before shedding his own pants and boxers. (Name) began to tug her sweatpants down until Adam got impatient and yanked both her sweatpants and panties down to her ankles. (Name) kicked them off.
Adam sat down on the couch, manspreading and showing off his dick. “Come here, baby,” he patted his lap. (Name) crawled over and into his lap, his erection pressing against her pussy. She briefly realized they both still had their shirts on.
Adam seemed to realize it too. “We’re fucking like Winnie the Pooh.”
(Name) giggled, but it quickly became a quiet moan when Adam squeezed her tits, swiping his thumbs over her nipples. She ground down against his dick and they both moaned. She raised herself on her knees to allow Adam to line himself up with her opening.
Once he did, she sank down, letting out a gasp as he stretched her once again. “Ride it,” Adam demands, grabbing her ass. (Name) did, for about a minute, before her pace slowed down as her legs got tired. Adam got impatient, squeezing her ass and thrusting up into her, fast and hard.
It caught (Name) off guard, who cried out. She held onto his shoulders like her life depended on it, as Adam fucked her like he was mad at her.
So was his pace usually.
Tears brimmed at the corners of (Name)’s eyes. “Fuck,” she hissed. Adam stared at her intently. “Yeah? Does this feel good, babygirl?” (Name) whined. She loved when Adam talked during sex, he was always so dirty.
“Is my cock filling your pussy just right? God you’re so hot, you make me want to put a baby in you.” (Name) gasped, nearly reaching her peak. “Gonna cum so deep inside you.”
(Name) came, clenching around Adam’s dick. His thrusts slowed as she squeezed him, the tightness pushing him over the edge. He snapped his hips upwards, burying himself to the hilt, and came inside of her.
(Name)’s stomach grew warm. She panted, moving to get off of Adam, but he grabbed her hips and pushed her back down on his dick. (Name) let out a strangled moan, overstimulated. Adam held her in his lap, keeping her plugged with his cock.
“Can’t waste any of my cum,” he told her, smirking. “I was serious. I’m gonna put a fucking baby in you.”
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wonderjanga · 2 months ago
Text
Guys… Marvel Might Need Some Help
Captain Marvel talks to himself. It’s a well known fact. The normally cheery and friendly man is a little crazy, but aren’t we all? And you see, the thing is, they know he’s talking to himself because not only did they get Zatanna to check if he was talking to a ghost of some kind, but he’s personally confirmed it:
Marvel: “Oh uhm… I guess I’m talking to myself.”
Batman: “Talking to yourself…?” *blinks rapidly as if Billy can see that under his cowl* “Captain, do we need to schedule an appointment with Black Canary?”
Marvel: “What?! No! I’m perfectly fine! Everyone talks to themselves!”
That’s what Billy thinks anyways. See, Billy developed the habit of talking to himself because he was usually alone most of the time before he met Freddy and reunited with Mary. Talking out loud made himself feel less lonely. Freddy also talks to himself, but he keeps it mostly to mumbles, and as for Mary, she does the same thing as Billy. So, with the only two people he converses with on the daily as the standard, he’d say talking to yourself is normal.
By the way, Batman got a little more concerned at his reasoning, but couldn’t really deny it because he’s talked to himself before, after going 45 straight with no sleep on. He had been hallucinating talking to Tim. Speaking of Tim, the boy often mutters to himself when going over cases so… Bruce supposed he would let it go. He’d still have Dinah on speed dial though if Cap seemed to get worse.
Billy didn’t get worse, he just didn’t change his normal talking to himself.
Billy: *in Marvel form, talking to Marvel in the reflection of one of the Watchtower’s windows* “What a stupid idiot.”
Reflection!Marvel: “I know, right? Who does that?”
Billy: “I couldn’t tell yo…” *trails off and looks to the side to see Bruce staring at him* “…Hey Mr. Batman. You need something?”
Batman: “No.” *continued staring*
Billy: *has no choice but to stare back*
Batman: *walks away staring at Billy the entire time until he turns a corner*
Later, Bruce reviewed the footage. What he didn’t know was that people can’t see Marvel’s reflection talking back. Cameras couldn’t pick it up either. So sure enough, he saw Cap having a full blown conversation with a mirror. Strike one for Marvel.
Then, there was a time after a battle against the usual alien invaders where Marvel was genuinely just staring at either the ground or his shadow and talking.
Billy: *in Marvel form talking to Marvel (Thavma?) as a shadow* “That’s what I was saying. What if he doesn’t…”
Shadow!Marvel: “He’ll definitely let you. And if he doesn’t, you could always just break his kneecaps.”
Billy: “I’m not doing that.”
Shadow!Marvel: “I’m just saying. It’s just if that old man is that pressed about you getting some food, it seems a change is needed.”
Batman: *watching this entire interaction and not being able to hear Shadow Marvel*
Strike two for Marvel.
Then, there are the times Marvel will just blankly stare ahead in meetings, mumbling to himself.
Marvel: *mumbling under his breath* “Mercury, you’re being loud.”
Batman: *sitting next to him, slowly looks over*
Supes: *presenting and looks over to Marvel for a second before shaking off what he said*
Marvel: “No, I’m not smashing a window and letting everyone fly out. I’m not insane.”
That was strike three for Bruce. Which was himself too many strikes in his opinion. That one sentence also gained an extremely concerned look from Clark who literally paused his presentation to stare at Marvel with a dumbfounded expression for a moment.
After the meeting…
Batman: “Marvel, I’d like to talk with you.”
Marvel: “Oh uhm… Okay! What’s up, Mr. Batman?”
Batman: “What’s up is that I’ve spoken with Black Canary and we want to schedule an appointment between you and her.”
Marvel: “Mr. Batman, we’ve already talking about this. I’m perfectly fine. I don’t need therapy.”
Batman: “You might think you’re fine, but I’ve grown concerned over recent behaviors you’ve exhibited.” *hands him Canary’s business card* “At least consider it.”
Marvel: *looks at the card* “Uh… Will do.”
Batman: “Good.” *walks off*
Marvel: *as soon as Bruce is out of sight, chucks it into his pocket dimension to forget about it*
Nope, nope, nope. He’s not touching therapy with a ten foot pole. He’s heard that stuff costs like thousands of dollars! He does not have that kind of money. Not that he doubts the League would cover it. He also just doesn’t want his behavior to be psychoanalyzed. No thank you. He really doesn’t need to be told something is wrong with him when he is perfectly fine. Marvelous in fact!
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malum-forev · 10 months ago
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Dr. Bee
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Summary: Bucky has quite the reputation but all it takes for him to want to change is an hour with an outspoken little Bee.
Bucky x Nurse!Mom!Reader
Bucky Barnes has many names. James Buchanan Barnes, Buck, The Winter Soldier, Sergeant. 
But on compound grounds, and in hushed tones, he’s usually called an asshole. 
He’s developed quite the reputation. Being difficult is his natural state of being. 
Bucky is constantly late to meetings, doesn’t show up for media days and is always going rogue in missions.
He doesn’t know why he does it, Dr. Raynor says it’s a coping mechanism, but that doesn’t make Bucky want to change one bit. He stays away from people and makes it everyone’s problem when someone decides to talk in his vicinity. 
Sam has tried to talk to him but, as per usual whatever the Falcon says, Bucky does the opposite. Sam’s even tried to convince everyone that Bucky’s like an untrained dog, he needs some kind of exposure therapy. Having people stand up to him and flat out call him what he is, that’s what he needs. 
Sadly for everyone who works with Bucky Barnes, no one has the balls to do it. 
But, everything changed one day. 
Everyone scurried away once the quinjet landed at the Avengers compound. They’d gotten word from someone in Logistics that the mission had gone terribly and the agents had barely come out alive. 
Bucky stormed into the med bay, his heels digging into the floor with such force you’d think it break, only to find it desolate. 
He huffed twice, looking around for anyone who could help with a deep cut on his right arm. 
“Hello?!” He yelled out, his temples throbbing and his left eye twitching. 
Bucky Barnes waited for no one. 
“May I help you?” Bucky’s eyebrows furrowed at the meek voice coming from behind the nurse’s station. His confusion only grew deeper when he didn’t find anyone there. 
A few seconds later a tiny hand popped up, wiggling its chubby fingers at him. 
“I said,” The little voice drew out the last word, annoyed. “May I help you?”
Bucky leaned forward and peeked behind the large desk to find a little girl.
Standing with her hands on her hips, the little girl with pigtails looked up at him with raised eyebrows. 
Her expression turned to one of concern.
“Are you hard of hearing?” The girl spoke slowly and loudly.
Bucky almost had to cover his ears from the shrill and very high tone of the girl. 
“I am not hard of hearing.” Bucky finally responded. 
“Then why didn’t you respond?” Little miss pigtails crosses her arms over her chest. “I asked you: may I help you?” 
His right eye accompanied his left one in twitching.
After he didn’t respond, the little girl scribbled something down on a paper in front of her. 
“What are you writing?” Bucky said through gritted teeth, how can a person so small get on his nerves so quickly?
“I can’t tell you.” She said in a singsong tone. 
“Why not?”
“You’re not my patient.” She shrugs, rounding the nurse’s bay holding a pink unicorn lunch box, coming face to face with The Winter Soldier. Actually it was more like coming face to knee height. “Can’t talk to people who aren’t my patients. Doctor patient villigage.”
Bucky bit his bottom lip to conceal a smile. “I think you mean doctor patient privilege.” 
“How would you know? You’re not my patient.” The little girl swung her lunchbox, skipping all the way to the waiting room. 
He was equally shocked and impressed. This little girl had more balls than most of the agents he worked with. 
Bucky looked around the med bay for anyone who knew the girl. Mom, dad, cousin, hell he’d even settle for a dog. 
With a groan, he followed behind her. Sure, he was a dickhead but he couldn’t let a kid wander around the Avengers med bay all by herself. 
She sat down, opening the lunch box and taking the contents out.
Bucky couldn’t help but think it was cute how her feet didn’t reach the floor. As he came closer, her swinging feet hit him in the shins. 
He let out an obviously fake and over the top groan, throwing himself on the floor. 
The little girl covered her mouth but her giggles bubbled around the room. 
“Aren’t you going to apologize?” Bucky asked from his position on the ground. “That really hurt.”
“No it didn’t!” She laughed harder. 
“Yes it did!” 
“I know nothing can hurt you!” She said as her giggles died down. “I know who you are.”
“You do, huh?” Bucky sat next to her.
“Mhm.” She said proudly, taking a bite out of her peanut butter and jelly sandwich. “But my mommy says I can’t repeat the names she calls you.”
Bucky suddenly felt embarrassed. Dickhead, motherfucker, bastard, asshole had a whole different meaning now that he knew the little girl thought they were synonymous to Bucky.
“Well then,” Bucky cleared his throat. “I should reintroduce myself. My name is James Buchanan Barnes but people usually call me Bucky.”
The little girl placed her tiny hand in his and shook it. “I’m not supposed to tell strangers my name so, you can call me Bee.”
Bucky nodded his head once, he almost didn’t notice the peanut butter she’d smeared on his hand. “Well Bee, does you mommy or daddy work here?”
Bee shrugs her shoulders. “Can’t tell you.”
He takes a deep breath in. “Can you tell me how you got here?”
“Nope.” She takes another bite of her sandwich. 
“Can you tell me how long you’ve been here?”
“Nuh uh.”
Bucky runs a hand over his face. “Is this because of the doctor patient privilege?” 
“Yep.” Bee smiles up at him and this time Bucky can’t help but smile back. A blooming feeling erupted in his chest. 
Bucky looked down at his hand, trying to find his most surface level wound. Something that wouldn’t traumatize the girl who’s no more than seven years old. 
“Dr. Bee, I need your help. Do you have anything for this cut?” Bucky points to the small cut on his knuckle. She didn’t have to know how it came to be, or who’s cheekbone had caused it.
“Thertainly Mr. Bucky.” Bee’s missing front teeth were responsible for her lisp. She jumped off of the chair and hurried behind the nurse’s station.
She swiftly wrapped his knuckles in gauze. 
“Do you need me to look over your other arm?” Bee asked sincerely.
“I don’t think you can help with this one.” Bucky chuckled, knocking on the vibranium. “Unless you have anti rust spray.”
Bee threw her head back with laughter but the cute sound was cut short by a door slamming open. 
His mind went blank the second he saw her. Bucky couldn’t peel his eyes off of her, even his jaw went slack. He tried to memorize every single detail of her. Her hair, her eyes, her body, the blue scrubs she wore. 
“Bee!” She gasped, taking the little girl in her arms. “You almost gave me a heart attack, I told you to stay in the common room!”
“Don’t worry mommy!” She smiles up at the woman who’s taken Bucky’s mind hostage. “I’ve been with Bucky!”
The woman finally looks over at Bucky and he’s sure the world has stopped. 
But reality comes crashing down when her eyes lose some of their light. 
“Mr. Barnes.” She gasps, pulling Bee to stand behind her body. “I’m so terribly sorry about her, she wasn’t supposed to be here.”
Bucky gulps down the nervous feeling in his throat. He can’t help but feel like the biggest idiot in this universe. 
All he’s done for the past few years is be cold, and rude, and now the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen, who’s got the cutest most outspoken daughter in the tri state area, is apologizing. 
His brain runs out of words and he just stands there. 
Bucky keeps quiet as the woman sutures up the wound on his arm, he’d completely forgotten about it. 
“Bee’s your daughter?” He manages to speak up after a few minutes. 
The woman nods with a smile, keeping her eyes on his wound but Bucky begs the cosmos she looks up at him, even if it’s just for a second. He wouldn’t care if she messes up, if it means their eyes could meet.
Bucky’s kept himself away from feelings for years. He convinced himself he doesn’t need them. But in a quick thirty minutes, Bee and her amazingly beautiful mother have stirred up more emotions than he’s had in the last two decades. 
“She-“ Bucky clears his throat. “She mentioned you’ve got a wide array of names for me.” 
Her cheeks burned red. “Bee must be mistaken, she’s got a crazy imagination. Always coming up with the strangest things-“
Bucky bit his bottom lip. “I’m used to it.”
The woman gulped, finally looking up at him. 
“I’m really sorry about the names.” She whispers. 
“It’s okay, darling.” Bucky’s eyes travel from hers to her lips. “But for next time, ‘Bucky’ is just fine.”
She nods, looking back to his wound. 
“And you are-“
“(Y/n).” She says. 
Bucky’s sure he’s never heard someone with a name as beautiful as hers. 
“You’re all patched up.” (Y/n) takes a step away from Bucky. “I’ll finish your report, I’m sure you’ve got more important things to do.”
Bucky stumbles on his feet as he stands up. Embarrassed, he walks straight to the door but stops before leaving the medbay. 
“(Y/n)?” He turns on his heel. “Would you please tell Dr. Bee I appreciated her help?”
The light in (Y/n)’s eyes returned as she nodded. 
Bucky left the med bay feeling lighter than ever before and he couldn’t help but think a certain little bee had everything to do with it. 
Comments and feedback is greatly appreciated!!
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dr-spencer-reids-queen · 3 months ago
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60 Seconds
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~3.1k
Warnings: heavy angst, rape (explicit), being bound and gagged and blindfolded, kidnapping, heavy trauma
Request by anon: Would you write something with Spencer x reader (s7 ish doesn't really matter) where you're taken or kidnapped and when they find you, you keep yelling like 'no, no, don't hurt me' and shit like that cuz you don't realize it's them, and Spencer rushes to you and holds you but you're like trashing and hitting his chest until you break down in sobs pls that would be the cutest help. Also love me some team reactions to it happening skskdks OKAY BYE
Summary: One minute can change everything. A lot can happen in sixty seconds, and your entire world is turned upside down when you’re taken off the street in broad daylight. Spencer and the team fight to save you while you’re fighting to stay alive.
Square Filled: laid on a stretcher for @badthingshappenbingo
Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3
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Everything can change in one minute.
That’s sixty seconds.
You pass by the bank you and Spencer have a joint account with. Three seconds. You see a woman and her child playing with bubbles across the street at the park. One second. You wait for the crosswalk light to turn green. Twenty seconds. You cross the street with a group of people. Ten seconds. You stop at a flower stand and buy two roses, one for Spencer and one for you. Twenty seconds. You turn the corner onto a desolate part of the sidewalk. Two seconds.
A van pulls up next to you and two men reach out and grab you. Six seconds.
One minute.
You’ve heard of stories where people are taken in plain sight and in daylight, but you never think it’ll happen to you. You’ve heard stories of victims being tortured, raped, and abused, but you never think it’ll happen to you. You’ve heard stories about victims needing a lifetime of therapy knowing it won’t fix them, but you never think it’ll happen to you.
Until it does.
Spencer moves about the office with you on his mind, excited to go on a lunch date with you. You’re not part of the BAU but you try to visit as much as you can. You have your own art business that you sell out of your apartment. You like to paint, make vases, and occasionally sew. Business has been booming for the last year so you’re not worried about not finding a “real” job any time soon.
Lunch time comes but you don’t show up, and Spencer thinks you might have gotten lost in a project. That tends to happen a lot, so he calls you to see if you’re going to be free any time soon. You don’t answer.
“Reid, JJ got something for us.”
Spencer puts his phone away and will call you later when he has a minute. Just like that, you’re pushed to the back of his mind. He has victims to save and bad guys to put away.
He just doesn’t realize that the victim this time is you.
The two men who took you were only the delivery boys. The men who have you are much worse. Spencer must be on a case if he hasn’t tried to contact you. Maybe he has. You’re not sure. You’re also not sure how many hours have passed or if it’s the next day. Time stops when all you can think about is pain.
They put a blindfold on you as soon as they stole you from the street so you’re not sure where you are in the world or what the room even looks like. All you know is that it stinks in here like dirt, sweat, and blood.
You’re hanging from the middle of the room by your wrists, your toes barely touching the ground. You’ve been suspended like this for so long that you’ve lost all feeling in your hands due to the rope biting into your wrists and cutting off circulation. If you’re lucky, they’ll fall off.
You’re stripped bare to just your panties. Those men love easy access where they can get it. Cuts adorn your once smooth skin and dried blood cake down your body. If you don’t give them what they want, they get violent. You’re surprised you’re not dead right now. They’ve beaten, raped, and abused your body multiple times in a single day.
You just hope that wherever you are, Spencer comes soon. You’re not sure how much of this you can take.
Spencer comes home after a grueling seven days in the field. All he wants to do is take a hot shower and snuggle in bed with you.
“Y/N? You home?” Spencer turns on the light but you’re not there to greet him like you normally are. “Y/N?”
He walks to the bedroom thinking you’re sleeping but frowns when he sees the bed is perfectly made as if no one has used it in a while. He checks the guest room but you’re not in there either. He takes out his phone and calls you but it goes straight to voicemail. He checks the Life 360 app only to see your phone is located in some ditch on the side of the road.
Now he starts to panic.
“Can’t get enough of this team? You just saw us for a week straight,” JJ jokes when she answers his call.
“Is Y/N with you?”
“No.”
“Have you seen her or talked to her all week?”
“No. What’s going on?”
“I think she’s missing,” he panics.
“Who, calm down, Spencer. Why do you think she’s missing?”
“She’s not home, she hasn’t been answering all week, her phone goes straight to voicemail, and I can see her location is in a ditch somewhere off the side of the road. You don’t think…”
“I don’t think what?”
“Do you think she was taken by the Daylight Killer?”
The Daylight Killer has been on the BAU’s radar for quite some time now. They take innocent women off the street in broad daylight only to return them back to their families after weeks. During those weeks, these women endure harsh psychological and physical torture. The BAU hasn’t been able to capture this man because they don’t think he’s working alone. If anything, it’s an organization that keeps him hidden from the authorities.
“Let’s not jump to conclusions, Spence.”
“JJ, she always answers her phone. Her biggest fear is me not picking up mine because of our job.”
“I’ll get the team together.”
Spencer immediately heads back to work and meets the team in the briefing room. They already have the victims of the Daylight Killer posted on the bulletin boards despite not having concrete evidence that you’ve been taken by him.
“What do we know?”
“I have already looked at the security cameras around your apartment, this building, and everything in between.” Penelope puts pictures of you on the screen for all to see. “She was last seen walking down Main Street when she stopped at a flower vendor on the corner of Main Street and Dobson Road. She turns the corner and continues to walk toward the BAU.” Penelope puts up three more pictures, one of you walking, another with a car parked right next to you, and the other with you gone. “This car stops next to her and she isn’t seen on any other cameras.”
“Did you get a plate?” Derek asks.
“Only a partial, but the system hasn’t come up with anything yet. You’ll be the first to know.”
“What if it is him? Do you know what he does to his victims?” Spencer asks with tears in his eyes.
“We need to speak to the survivors and see if they can remember their time with him.”
“You want to put them through that pain again?” Emily asks.
“What other choice do we have?” Rossi asks.
It’s safe to say that the victims of the Daylight Killer were less than thrilled to have to relive their experiences. Some of them are still in the hospital recovering from their injuries while others are locked away in their houses too afraid to go outside. There are only two girls who are brave enough to come forward. Confident that if they help the BAU, the men will get caught.
“If you need to stop at any time, please let us know,” JJ says gently.
“Okay,” Stacy, one of the victims, whispers.
“Close your eyes and focus on the sound of my voice.” Stacy does, and she wrings her fingers together nervously. “When you were taken, do you remember what you could feel?”
“You mean besides their hands on me?”
“I can only imagine this is hard for you but don’t focus on them.” Stacy nods and tries to relax. “Focus on the car ride. Was it bumpy? Smooth?”
“Smooth but then it became bumpy like they were driving on rocks or a dirt road.”
“How long were you on that road for?”
“It seemed like hours but probably ten minutes.”
“Then what?”
“They parked and took me out of the car. I was still blindfolded.”
“What was underneath your feet? Rocks? Dirt? Concrete?”
“Sticks. Dirt.”
“So, you were in the woods. What did you smell?”
“Dirt. Nature. It was musty.”
“What did you hear?”
“Insects. However, they stopped once we started walking.”
Spencer leaves the room after hearing enough from Stacy. So, they are keeping their victims in the woods. What woods, is the question.
The best part about you is Spencer. He brings out the best in you and pushes you to do your best in everything you do, especially with your art business. He never goes a day without telling you he loves you, and he shows it with the little things he does. He leaves out little notes for you on the kitchen counter before work, he buys you cookies and other sweets before he comes home, and he gets you flowers every single week.
Even in bed, he’s super loving. Sure, he’s been rough with you a few times but your favorite is how gentle he can be. He can spend hours in bed just worshiping you before giving you his sock. He fits so well inside of you like he was made for you. Even now, you can picture him bending you over and sliding his cock into your pussy. He touches your skin as if he’s mapping every inch of your body. He rarely leaves behind any marks because it reminds him that he can hurt you. He’s seen too much in the field to leave marks on you.
You’re pulled from your dream with Spencer when one of the men slaps your ass hard. His dick feels nothing like Spencer’s. He doesn’t care if he stretches you too much or if he doesn’t fit. He’s still slamming into you from behind and chasing his release. Your entire body aches from the pain but you refuse to give him and the other men the one thing they crave.
You refuse to cry.
You slip back into your dream and replace the man raping you with Spencer who loves you.
“According to the camera’s timestamp, she’s been missing for a week. Do you know what these men do to these women? What are they doing to her right now?” Spencer panics.
“I know it’s hard but you can’t think like that. We’re doing everything we can to try and find her. Right now, we have two women who remember being in the woods which means this unsub or unsubs need privacy. They can’t risk anyone finding them so they have to be isolated. That narrows down a lot of places,” Hotch says.
“They can’t be far either because Virginia PD is always on the scene whenever they release these women. They have to have a place close enough to where they can grab someone and release another in the span of hours.”
“Garcia, anything?”
Penelope pulls up a map of the area and circles the places where it’s likely the unsubs are located. All are in densely forested areas with nothing around them for miles.
“Based on the survivors’ accounts of being in the woods and the fact that they both said they weren't in the car for long once they got onto the dirt road, I estimate that the unsubs are located in one of five places. Every single victim has been released at a gas station before walking into town where there is reception.”
“That’s too many to go to. They could see us coming and leave. How are we going to narrow down this list?”
JJ comes marching into the room with a look of determination and worry on her face.
“We got another woman missing. Melissa Summers was out jogging when she was taken. This time, there were witnesses. They witnessed a ‘dirty white van’ and ‘two men grabbing Melissa off the streets’. They saw a partial plate which matches the one who took Y/N.”
Spencer goes rigid at the news because there are two reasons why they took someone early. They normally keep their victims for two or three weeks before releasing them and grabbing someone new. You’ve been gone for just over a week. Either they changed their minds and let you go early or you’re dead.
Spencer doesn’t have to say anything for everyone to know what he’s thinking.
“Reid, don’t go there,” Derek warns.
“Too late.”
Spencer leaves the room just before he bursts into tears. He can handle being by your side while you heal from their abuse but he can’t handle the thought of you being dead.
You wish that was the case. You wish they had killed you. After a week and a half of abusing your body for their pleasure, they leave you to rot on a dirty mattress with your hands tied behind you, duct tape over your mouth, and a blindfold over your eyes. The door opens but you don’t have enough energy to react. You’ve been saving your energy for when it matters the most.
“What should we do with her?”
They must have another girl if they’re already talking about disposing of you.
“We should just kill her, boss,” another man says. “She doesn’t make it fun. She doesn’t cry or beg like the others.”
“We should just leave her here and move on. She hasn’t seen our faces. She doesn’t look like she’ll talk.”
“Enough. Both of you. I’ll decide what to do with her when I’m done with her.”
The door closes and you’re back to lying in the darkness.
“Okay, so according to her parents, Melissa goes on a run on the same route every night. It’s on Mason Trail located next to a gas station. It’s one of the ones Penelope circled,” JJ says.
“We should go check it out,” Spencer suggests. “What harm will it do? The best case is we find the men responsible. Worst case is she’s not there and we try again. We have to do something.”
“I’m with Reid on this one,” Derek says.
“If we’re wrong and she’s not there, it could ruin everything,” Rossi says.
“You’re both right,” Hotch says. “Let’s go.”
The team, as quietly as they can, make their way to the house deep in the woods located near Mason Trail. It’s not quite night but Hotch keeps the headlights off to prevent anyone from seeing the sleek black cars. Virginia PD is right behind them because, despite the concern about this not being the location, Spencer has a feeling it is.
They park several hundred yards away from the house and finish the rest of the way on foot. If this is the house and someone is home, they won’t take kindly to Derek announcing that the FBI is at their door. Instead, he kicks down the door and just barges in.
There are four men sitting around the table playing poker who all jump up from shock. They reach for their guns but the FBI is quicker. Derek, Rossi, Hotch, and Emily take down the four men while the police search the house to clear the other rooms.
“Where is she?” Spencer asks once they are all in handcuffs.
“Dead.”
“There’s a door to the basement,” one of the officers announces.
Spencer refuses to believe you’re dead. Hotch leaves the unsubs in the care of Virginia PD and follows Spencer down to the basement. Light floods the room and Spencer pauses when he sees Melissa strung up wearing nothing but her panties, and you lying on a dirty mattress in the corner.
Emily and JJ immediately go to Melissa to help her down, and she starts to cry when she realizes she is being saved.
“You’re okay now. They’re not going to hurt you anymore,” JJ soothes.
Spencer runs over to you and unties the rope that binds your wrists. The second you’re free, you find the burst of energy you’ve been saving. You swing at the person who is above you thinking it’s one of the men.
Spencer grabs your wrists and tries to stabilize you but you’re thrashing too much for him to control. Derek comes over and helps Spencer hold you down, and Spencer removes the duct tape from your mouth.
“Y/N--”
“No, let me go!” you beg.
“You got her?”
“Yeah, I got her.”
Spencer lets go of you and Derek has to use his whole body to hold you still even though you’re still trying to get away. Spencer removes your blindfold and you blink rapidly to counteract the brightness of the dim lights. For someone who has had a blindfold on the entire time you’ve been here, the dim lighting it very bright to you. You look around and lock eyes with Derek who is the one who is holding you. You notice JJ and Emily caring for Melissa, and Spencer comes into view in front of you.
Almost immediately, you begin sobbing. You’re free. You’re safe now. You’re not going to hurt anymore. Every single tear you have been holding back is now coming out and there is nothing anyone can do to stop it. Derek lets you go knowing you’re not going to start swinging which allows Spencer to pull you into his arms.
“I’m so sorry, darling. You’re safe now. You’re okay now.”
You bury your face in Spencer’s chest and sob and wail as loud as you can. Spencer can’t stop his tears from falling, and he looks at the rest of the team. JJ and Emily are in tears, Derek is clenching his jaw tightly, Hotch has a stoic look on his face but is breaking down inside, and Rossi has to look away before he cries.
“We need a medic,” Hotch says into his mic.
By the time the ambulance arrives, your sobs have died down to quiet cries. The men are all arrested and put into separate cop cars, and you’re laid onto a stretcher. Melissa is taken to the hospital in another ambulance, and you’re put into the back of the first one.
“Spencer,” you whimper.
“I’m right here.” He climbs into the back and sits next to you. He grabs your hand and runs his thumb across the back of your hand. “I’m right here. You’re safe now.”
“Please don’t leave me,” you cry.
“I’m not. I’m right here. You’re not alone. They can’t hurt you anymore.”
The entire ride to the hospital is you crying over your innocence being destroyed and Spencer trying not to cry.
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bigfatbimbo · 4 months ago
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I love you like an Alcoholic
2.1k words,, Bill x Reader
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a/n — You did it, you saved the town.
warnings — NSFW, dom!reader, sub!Bill, toxic relationships, book of bill time era, orgasm denial, ambiguous superpowers, NOT PROOFREAD**
summary — Bill goes to his incredibly powerful (moreso than him) business partner, you, to try to get him out of theraprism. Things take a turn.
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“I had to pull a lot of strings for this Bill,” you cross your legs and lean back in your thrown. 
Bill straightens his bow-tie, “Well toots, what if I told you I can make it worth your while?”
You breathe and then get up from your chair, “I’d tell you to stop floating in my lair. It’s distracting.”
Snapping your fingers, a bar appears in your otherwise empty room. While pouring yourself a drink, you can feel Bills eye-roll from across the room.
With a tip of his hat, his more human form appears, and sits down at the bar stool next to you. “Better?”
“Could do with more abs.”
He laughs but doesn’t change his appearance, “So, y/n. We go way back, right? I’m not gonna sugar code it, you’ve always been one of my favorites to do business with, doll. Wanna know why?”
“The fact i’m always so interested in what you have to say?”
His eye practically twitched at your indifference. Your attention was never payed in full. “Ha! Don’t flatter your self, pal. No, i’ll tell you why: did you know out of everyone in the galaxy, you’re the only equal I do business with?”
Your eyebrow arches, “equal?”
“Humor me,” he doesn’t give you the chance to reply before continuing. “Now, given my current position in ‘necessary therapy’—“ he makes a point of doing obnoxious air quotes, “—I don’t have much to occupy my days. And we both know i’d be of better use to you out here, right?”
You took another sip of your wine before getting up from the bar and walking over to your throne. The bar disappears behind you, leaving cipher ass-flat on the ground.
“Oh come on—“ His open eye turns red momentarily, before he dusts himself off, “Look, it’s hard being a god, y/n, I know that much. With that responsibility, I think a business partner would do you good. And all you’d have to do is bail me out, that’s practically no downside for you at all, buddy.”
Your patience had been wearing thin, and without further consideration you let out a larger grown from your chair, “Cipher, you’re a liability. I don’t want you. I’m honestly struggling to find enjoyment in sharing a drink with you, despite our history.”
A flick of your hand lifts him off his feet and brings him over to you, “Thought you had a no floating policy, eh?” There’s no fear in his voice, but there is in his eye. He’s losing.
“I’m gonna make this clear to you. You’re gonna take your disgusting human form, and you’re gonna march your happy ass back to theraprism, and you’re gonna stay there. Want my advice? Stop being so damn pathetic.”
A portal opens to take him back and he struggles in your invisible grasp, “No, wait! Please, I’ll do anything, just wait!” 
A human form was already a disadvantage, one he’d accepted in order to strike a deal, but a disadvantage still. And he hadn’t had any contact in a long time, aside from various psychiatrists telling him what’s ’wrong with him.’ 
So, you being someone he has history with could have contributed to his annoyingly human problem. Maybe it was the excitement, your attention or the lack there of, but something terrible happened at that moment. 
“Jesus, Bill. You really have hit rock bottom,” You murmur to yourself as you pull his floating body closer to you, your fingers dance around the bulge without touching it.
“Hey, hey, watch it— Your the one that made me have this stupid fleshbag, anyways— cut that out!” He struggled in the air, finding that he just couldn’t turn back into his normal form. You’re doing, he’d assume. 
To his dismay, you giggle and lean back, “Well now i’m enjoying myself. Now this I could help with, Cipher,”
“Ah, ah pass! Just get me down from here and—“ Back to prison? He’d have to swallow his pride on this one. And besides, it’s not like he wouldn’t like it… “Whatever you want, doll. I’m here all night.”
You examine him further, “Is that so?” 
Before he can answer, you drop him to his knees in front of you. “Ow! Careful with the merchandise, sweetheart. I’m not in mint condition these days— ah!”
Your foot presses down lightly on the bulge in his pants, and your fingers grab onto his chin, “Been a minute since we’ve done this. Huh, Cipher?”
He nods, going to say something, before you interject, “So i’d be good if I was you, baby.”
You press down on his hard-on with more pressure, watching Ciphers face flicker, biting his lip, before letting on a whimper. 
Despite not being his first encounter, so to speak, with you of this nature, it never failed to eat as his pride. And furthermore, despite this, it felt good. If Bill was anything, he was selfish. He could admit he was letting it happen for himself, instead of in spite of himself. So it can’t be that humiliating?
But in this position, there’s always shame.
“Y/n — give me a break—“ He breathed, eye twitching. 
You rolled your eyes and snapped your fingers, with that, his pants were gone and his dick was exposed. That’s another thing he could do without: your unpredictability 
“Next time, say please. Asshole.” You say, lifting him up with your powers once more.
“Wow, buddy. I’m not the one being the jerk here—“ It came out quick, as Bill words often did. But these ones he regretted immediately.
Your eyebrows furrowed, “Tough crowd?” He felt a sensation tugging at the base of his dick, indicating the start of mind games that wouldn’t end anytime soon.
He backtracked. Play it off. “Yeesh, you’re a tough crowd! Did I say jerk? You heard me wrong, I meant lovely— Ah, wait! Wait!”
A wave of pleasure flooded his senses abruptly, followed by a short pinch of pain, similar to what a mortal feels when they prick their finger on a piece of metal. Does that happen a lot? They’re all so clutsy, can’t be that out of the ordinary—
“Smooth talk your way out and maybe I’ll lighten the blow, yeah?” You smile cruelly, hand dangling out, flexing as if teasing what you could do to him.
“I— I know we’ve had our disagreements but I— augh!” A spike of pain, his eye rolled back a bit, “You— I’ve always admired your work— Yes! Respected you even, you’re an idol, sweetheart, ah, yes!”
With each compliment a burst of pleasure would go through him, landing at his unnatural dick, now leaking with precum. He was nearly babbling, but he was as aware of that as he was aware of the fact it was dearly encouraged.
“Very good, Billy. You’re too sweet, really.” Your voice was smooth and you bit your lip, watching him writhe with pleasure mid-air.
“A-anything for you, toots! Ah, more, more!”
He didn’t notice he said anything wrong this time until it was too late, but your face had noticeably darkened at the statement. 
“That’s awful demanding for someone in your position, dontcha’ think?” You weren’t actually mad, of course you weren’t. But you loved to you with him, and you took every opportunity. One of the reasons Bill tried to avoid you when he could; you were far too similar people, dealing in cruelty for the sake of entertainment.
“Wha- No wait!” The attention to his dick ceased to exist, and he was left with only aching for attention again, despite the fact you never gave anything physical in the first place. 
All mind games. “That’s- That’s not fair!”
“I’d watch who you were talking too, baby,” You flick your hand, spreading out his body parts mid air, hard leaking cock protruding out, crying for any kind of sensation. 
“You know what I can do. I’m sure I don’t have to remind you,” You sigh expectantly.
Bill tried to speak to defend himself, to talk his way out, but he found his ability to gone.
“I can make you do what I want, Cipher. Can make you feel whatever I want. Extraordinary pain—“ He cries out for a split second, eye flashing with fear, “—Or overwhelming pleasure.”
This time his eye rolled back, and he moans in wonderful agony, unable to move expect for wriggling his body parts weakly. His dick twitched.
“You like that feeling?”
He nods weakly, eyes fogging up, letting a small whimper escape.
“Don’t want me to hurt you?” Another nod, “Want me to make you feel good? Think you deserve it?”
“Ah— y/n, I need…” He swallows, revising his words in his mind, “Please, I need this.”
It’s true, Bill had never reached such a low in his entire existence. And he wasn’t sure if this interaction was pushing him further down or making him feel better. Now, however, he was struggling to think.
“Aw, baby. You have taken your punishment well? Been having a rough time too..” Your tone switched to something softer, almost to a condescending note.
His pathetic appearance did him justice, he pretended this was on purpose. 
Either way, a whine slipped from his throat and he shut his eyes, playing into it. You cooed in response, bringing him closer to you in order to run your hand along the side of his cheek. 
A spurt of pleasure shoots through his dick once more, and now he can’t help but yearn for something more. “Touch me— I need it— Please.” He threw in, trying to help his chances, despite the struggle at forming a coherent thought other than need.
“Hm,” You consider. Finally you reach out, running a finger along the base of his cock, to the tip. “You really want me to?”
He nodded desperately, mouth falling open to let out a small whine. Swear bedded his hot, red face, and dripped down, make his multiple chins glisten. Ugh, you preferred him further away. His already greasy looking hair was now slick against his forehead, and his eyes were glazed over. 
You slowly shift all of your fingers onto his shaft and then saintly drag them up and down for the first few strokes. A gutteral whimper falls from Ciphers mouth, “Oh, yes!”
“What do we say, baby?” You ask, grip tightening suddenly as if to bring him back to reality, but not too tight. 
“Ah— Thank you!” He’d almost forgotten to detest you for making him say that. And he’d almost forgotten to remind himself to be mad after he was done feeling good.
He used to daydream about taking you down after these sessions. Rising to power and having you at his feet. But now he only wants to keep your attention on him. Now it’s all he can think about. 
You continue to stroke his leaking cock, leaning in to kiss his cheek fat, “Good boy.”
He moaned, “Don’t do that-“
“I’m not patronizing you. I mean it, you’re acting better than usual and i’m glad. Maybe you’re more desperate, or touch-starved, but you’re doing good. I’m proud of you, sweetheart.”
“Ah—“ He would have came right there if he could. And in the most literal sense, he couldn’t. You weren’t letting him. “Please, let me come. I can’t do this, have mercy, I’ll do anything—“
“I don’t know, I’m having a good time. Why should I?” Another desperate need to release wipes over him, an uncontrollable need that was actively being controlled. 
Despite himself, he teared up. His fingers rose to touch his face, which he realized, was now damp with falling tears, “No, no, no! I can’t- I’ve never- Human bodies— I need to. Please!”
You look at him and smile. 
“I’ve been good,” He reminded you.
With that, you have in. Your other hand moved away to snap your fingers, a gesture that wasn’t need to carry out the action, but to show that he’d earned his reward. 
“Yes! Thank you! Oh gods— Oh-“ He leaned back, finally having the orgasm that was being withheld from him. And god, it felt good.
You felt good, and he hated that. 
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wandaslittleweirdo · 5 months ago
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WE NEED A PART TWO PRETTY PLEASE
https://www.tumblr.com/wandaslittleweirdo/757441289957638144/many-many-stepmommywanda-thoughts-tw-stepcest
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A/N: turned out a little longer than expected…..heh..|| Part 1 , masterlist
tw: mentions of murder and blood, stepcest, dating a man, possessiveness, jealousy, pet names, this writer needs to stop skipping therapy, toxic relationships/attachments, manipulation, dom/sub dynamics, fucked up fluffy ending, age gap > reader is 22 wanda is 35
stepmommy!wanda ༝༝ fem!reader
ೀ Wanda had picked up the phone to call her friend from church, but paused when she heard your voice on the other line. She leaned over the counter, nibbling at the nail on her thumb as she curiously eavesdrops on your conversation. Your flirtatious tone directed to the disgustingly sweet boy made her jaw tighten, slamming the phone back down and gritting her teeth.
When you ended the call you walked into the kitchen and explained to Wanda that you’d be going out with a friend and will be back at a reasonable hour. She waited for you to tell her that it was a boy who obviously likes you and that it was actually a date, but you didn’t. You happily skip out of the kitchen with your sandwich and then off into your room. How dare you do this to her after she’d spent months and months perfecting you to how she wanted? Clearly, she needed to do something that you’d take seriously.
Matthew had picked out the most beautiful but quiet restaurant in town, knowing how anxious you get when it comes to new and busy places because of how strict your step mother is. He was refreshing and new, a breath of fresh air. He loved cracking jokes, but he could also be a little shy and got flustered easily. For example when you were both finished with dinner he scratched the back of his neck wondering if he could kiss you goodnight. You saw the nervousness in his eyes and you adored it, confidently taking his hand in yours before leaning up to kiss him.
But when he had visited the bathroom and didn’t come out, you assumed he got nervous and alerted him that you’d be leaving. You knew Wanda would be fuming if you stayed any longer. There was no response from his end, but you didn’t let yourself think about it too much. He’s just busy, you kept telling yourself.
You put the keys in the hole of your front door and twist it, listening to the faint click followed by the creak of the door handle as you pushed it down.
You gently push open the door and peek inside, a lamp from the living room casting its warm glow through your home. You creak the door open more and think Wanda must’ve left the light on before she went to bed.
Glancing into the lounge, the first thing you spot is Wanda’s back and her staring at something on the floor. It’s completely silent. No radio, no television, and the only movement you could hear is your own. You take one more step and freeze, paralysed by the sight in front of you.
Matthew’s body laying in a pool of blood, the thick liquid staining the carpet. His eyes are shut and his hands are painted in red, fatally attempting to cover the wounds on his stomach. Wanda towers over him, a kitchen knife coated in red gripped tightly in her hand. A tear of blood drips from the blade, and you watch it hit the ground to then it sinking into the carpet.
“W-Wh..” You lip quivered, voice cracking as you took a step back. “You’re home late.” She kicked the boy onto his back with her boot. You grabbed hold of the wall next to you, feeling dizzy watching his body flop lifelessly and how she showed no emotion to the deceased boy in front of her.
“I-Is that?..” She finally turns around to look at you and you felt chills run down your spine. You thought you had seen Wanda to her fullest potential, how sick and twisted she could be. But the blood sprinkled on her face and how it soaked several areas of her clothing made it clear that you never knew her as well as you thought you did.
A relieved smile hiked up her cheeks. She missed you so much. She also saw the terror in your eyes, not just for yourself but because you knew that simply pecking someone on the lips could put them in the same position as the poor gentleman who lays dead on the floor. This bought her a great sense of peace. You finally learnt your lesson, it’s a shame she had to go this far.
“There’s my girl.” Her voice softens as she stepped towards you, dropping the knife on the floor. You flinch hearing it clang, the sound ringing in your ears. You don’t catch her words, the only audible sound for you was your loud heartbeat and your ragged breathing. You couldn’t take your eyes away from him. A tear trickles down your cheek, causing her smile to fall and her demeanour to become hostile.
“Why are you crying Y/N? He was never going to love you like I do.”
“I told you I’d kill anyone who touches you. I warned you. You made me do this.”
“I’d do anything for you, sweet girl.” She calmly takes your chin between her fingers and places her other hand onto your shoulder. Her touch is delicate and familiar. So comforting and soft, you couldn’t help but lean into her. “You see now that I’d actually kill for you. And I’d do it again because I love so much, darling.” She leans down, tilting her head and brushing her lips against yours.
“Do you love me?” Your breathing quickens, reaching up and curling your fingers around the back of her neck to pull her closer. You eagerly tangle your hands in her hair as she moans, boldly pushing her tongue between your lips.
The kiss deepens and the world fades away. The heat of the moment, the rush of desire. It all felt so good, you could feel it in your chest and your stomach. You pull away and she whimpers, chasing your lips until you place a hand on her chest. Your faces now smeared with blood, you both smile. To others, this moment would be disturbing and inhumane. But for you and Wanda, it feels like the two of you against the world.
“I love you too, Wanda.”
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
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brittle-doughie · 3 months ago
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Britttlleeee
Since your hc for Y/N Cookie is that they lost a partner long ago in the storyline's you create. Which I love btw. Do you think the Beasts would exploit this or use this in some way to try and sway Y/N Cookie to join/be with them? They've been through a lot and appear to have little to no therapy. So I could see the Beasts taking advantage of this vulnerability.
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The Fool (Shadow Milk Cookie)
Oof, the decease spouse multiplier?
It’s going to be Shadow Milk’s doing, he’s the one most suited for trickery and striking you while you’re at your most vulnerable state of mind.
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The mist envelopes you, the shouts of PV and WL calling out to you slowly fade away as you look all around, trying to answer them but never seeming to get a response back. You ready your weapon, you were not letting anything this Beast says or does get to you.
???: “Hello…?”
You gasped as your pupils shrunk, heading perking up as you looked around the place.
That voice, it couldn’t be….
???: “My beloved, are you there…?”
No way…she/he was dead….
???: “Oh, how I missed you so much…”
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SVTFOE, anyone? Feels bad about the finale though. Just picture it being a puppet of the spouse cookie, you get the idea.
You saw her/him, a puppet of your lost flame, alive and well….all the fight in you suddenly extinguishes as you drop your weapon, your hand shaking as emotions rise.
You: “H-hey….”
Spouse Cookie: “Bless the witches that you’re here with me at last….”
You: “I thought I’d never see you again…but what are you doing here? It’s not safe, let me take you somewhere safe first!”
Spouse Cookie: “It’s okay. We are with each other again, that’s all that matters now…”
You: “B-but, I…”
Spouse Cookie: “Isn’t this why you pulled through for so many years? To be with me again…?”
You: “I…I never gave up on you. So many times, I thought if I had just let you go, it would’ve been for the best. But that little part of me j-just couldn’t. A p-part of me w-wanted to maintain hope that y-you…*sniffle*”
Spouse Cookie: “My cherished, please do not cry. Why are you crying? I’m here now, please come into my arms…”
You didn’t hesitate and ran into his/her arms as you weeped silently. All the memories, the trading words of love to one another, you missed it. All of it.
You: “I-I love you…..”
Spouse Cookie: “It’s okay, I love you too, my sweetest cookie….”
You kept hugging her, unaware that her the puppet’s hold was getting tighter around you, her hands gripping your form more firmly, almost in a death grip….
You kept hugging…though, you furrow your eyebrows when you hear something distant in the mist, it sounded like…voices..?
???: “….Y/N….don’t….trust….!”
You listen more intently, was that…Pure Vanilla Cookie?
Pure Vanilla Cookie: “Shadow…Milk….tricks…your head…!”
You pieced together his words and gasped, but by then, it was already too late….
Spouse Cookie: “My dearest lover, what is the problem? Always know that I will take care of it…”
That last part was a malicious croak as you hesitantly look up to face your love(?)
The strings, the segmented limbs, hollow eyes and grin that harbor many blue colored eyes staring right back at you….
This was NOT your love….
It was a bastardization of him/her….
By the Beast….Shadow Milk Cookie…
False Spouse Cookie: “I love you, Y/N Cookie. And I’m never LETTING YOU GO!”
The puppet held onto you even tighter and started to rapidly drag you into the corrupted forest as you cry out in fear and despair!
False Spouse Cookie: “Don’t be so scared, ya silly willy! Just think about how happy you’ll be full of deceit and chaos! How happy you and him/her will be! Well, as best as I can imitate him/her at least!”
Shadow Milk Cookie wasn’t even trying to keep up the facade anymore, his voice coming through the puppet instead.
False Spouse Cookie: “THIS IS IT! LET ME INTO YOUR MIND AND DROWN IN DECEIT-WHAT?!”
You were suddenly dropped to the ground, rolling forward a bit before coming to a stop. You hastily get up to see the puppet dangling on only one string, the rest of the body limp.
False Spouse Cookie: “Hey, watch the puppet! Do you have any idea how long it took me to get it right?!”
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Gingerbrave: “Y/N Cookie, are you okay?! That was quite the fall.”
Yeah, you told him you were alright. You soon see that he didn’t come alone as Pure Vanilla and White Lily Cookie had come to you, White Lily tending to your side.
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Pure Vanilla Cookie: “We have made it just in time. I am glad you are alright, Y/N Cookie.”
White Lily Cookie: “They’re shaking. They’ve been..disturbed….”
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Shadow Milk’s puppet was soon replaced by the Beast himself, who was anything but happy.
Shadow Milk Cookie: “Why do you PESTS always meddle in my script?! It was simple enough, I win Y/N’s mind over and I get to taint them with deceit to become a deliverer of deceit and lies! This was not how this was supposed to go!”
White Lily Cookie: “Leave them alone! You’ve already done too much damage to them! You’ll have to go through us to get them first!”
Pure Vanilla Cookie: “So true. We won’t let you bring further torment to them!”
Gingerbrave: “Yeah, Y/N Cookie is our friend and if you mess with them, you mess with all of us!”
Shadow Milk Cookie: “Fine! Have it your way! I’ll get my hands on them in the end! Just you wait!”
You were curled up near a tree as the cookies fought, shaking with a thousand yard stare.
Was it..all a lie? He talked just like your partner, behaved just like them….
What was even true about that anymore….
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yanderemystic · 3 months ago
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sofia falcone yandere headcanons pretty pls????
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— Sofia’s traits: Manipulative, paranoid, possessive.
Sofia has suffered so much. Damaged bits sticking to her skin—biting anyone who deemed too close, except for you. Somehow, you were able to get her collected. Snuck into her heart when she needed someone the most; when trust was given the most, and now she can’t let go of you.
For a potential relationship with her, she uses those around you as a springboard. Everything is terrible all of a sudden; even if everything was great before, you and Sofia became even closer.
Sofia points out every mistreatment. Anything in the past to the current issues. The changes in behavior, canceled dates, and sudden constant avoidance. Sofia reassures you that it isn’t your fault. It’s them. You can’t trust them, at least not anymore. The two of you belong to each other savagely, requiring each other in more ways than them. 
Her favorite thing in the entire world is hearing you talk. Even in a room full of people, she could recognize yours best. When eating out, she hums toward you—acknowledging what you’re saying, but she ends up lost anyway. She enjoys your conversations, even if she isn’t very knowledgeable about the topic. Focusing on how your tongue moves, teeth whistling, and how your voice croons between sentences.
Opening about her past is gut-wrenching—the constant betrayals and the terrifying fear of abandonment scare her. But she works on it for you. Allowing you to visit her therapy sessions, she slowly opens up about her scars and how each one has a thick memory connected to it. Her eyes watch you closely when you touch them, fingers dragging along the rugged edges. She expects pain but gains an addicted love for your soft touch.
She is constantly touching you. Despite her private demeanor, she's very clingy. Constantly having her arm interlocked with yours, keeping you skin-close. Her lips are always chasing yours, droning you in if you are too slow for her liking. Hands interlocked with an iron grasp, and deep hugs that are met with inhaled neck kisses. Her nails endlessly drag against your skin, chuckling when you get goosebumps. 
Loyalty is very important to her. Sofia expects you to keep her updated on your day, change of schedule, or your list of friends. Call her after work and before bed. Tell her all about the dates and what you did during the time she’s gone. If she suspects lies, a sense of breaching trust, she becomes demented.
She hates being violently jealous, but she needs you to realize strangers are parasites. If she senses they are a threat, she acts on it. Despises when people are too close to you, make you smile, or even laugh. The enormity of her possessiveness is dangerous. Sofia will test limits, leaving thick blotches of lipstick to show others, and if that isn’t enough, possibly a dead body will be shown of how crazy she is for you.
But, assuming time will only tell, it’s better to keep her distracted and collected—helping her with the urged warnings. Reassuring her and keeping promises. Nosing the area between your neck and shoulder, relishing your weighted body on top of hers. Your heart is what she craves. The sound of your lub-dub is a lullaby, keeping her very grounded. 
Once embarking as her romantic partner, Sofia will be sleeping with you permanently. Your apartment is now both yours, and sometimes you'll wake up with her beside you; originally going to bed without her. She sticks to your flesh—cold hands interlocking each other around your lower stomach, nails intending your flesh, squeezing when she feels you slightly move. She keeps you in bed with fleeting kisses until you have to absolutely leave.
Sofia adores how you smell. An odd adoration, but she can’t help it. Your smell helps her more than anything. Constantly complimenting you that you smell wonderful, even if you hadn’t showered. She’s not sure why she loves your scent so much, but it’s like an addiction. Your t-shirts, hoodies, even bras are shared—constantly pulling up your shirts, and inhaling. Goosebumps crawling underneath her skin, thrusting her heart faster, and just edging her to near ecstasy. Makes her nerves clench close, and bones go numb. 
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So sorry this request came out late, I had some family emergency. Although, I had fun writing this! Requests are still open ♡
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simpee9000 · 5 months ago
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Super random but I’m a writer and I’ve been stuck on an idea I can’t get going😅 if you’re willing to/interested I’d love to see what you can do with the idea. I’m a domestic kinda girly so don’t judge 🫣🤣
Idea:
Bakugo coming home to retired ex-hero wife who’s excited to tell him about the new recipe she learned or something like that and it makes him feel frisky because she’s still so devoted in everything she does it just all goes to him now
I can try! I'm really rusty at smut so bear with me here! (Don't ask me how I'm writing a smut story despite only writing it maybe three times before)
Despite the smut not being the best I hope I did well enough. I've never done a request before so this is a first! Thank you <3
Word Count 2k~ Smut, and slightest gore at the beginning
Katsuki Bakugo x retired pro hero reader
Your leg was blasted off from under you. Making you collapse as you buckled under your weight. A silent scream of pain coming from you. Landing onto your stomach before falling onto your side, confused from the amount of pain. Your hero suit was torn in every spot possible, ends being burnt off mid-thigh.
From the knee down your left leg was gone, the pure gore of it made you fall back, head on the ground as you stared up at the dusty sky. It is covered with debris and ashes from the collapsed buildings nearby.
It was a simple fire earlier, quickly turning south when a villain was found on the lower levels. Flattening all buildings nearby. Back-up was called of course, but they were far too late. You were basically gone the second you made contact with the villain. Getting thrown through several walls by an air quirk. Mind going fuzzy just from that, but to make matters worse, a grenade was thrown with you.
You heard the sounds of other heroes and took it as a sign to back down. Resting into the concert underneath you as you tried to stabilize yourself. Ultimately passing out from the pain.
-
Waking up in the hospital sent you on another trip, you thought you were gone. Dead. The haze that surrounded the hospital consumed you as you looked around. The sterile air, empty with chemicals that dried it up. Beeping coming from your heart monitor, a steady pulse made everything feel even more surreal.
Your arm was in a sling and your left leg was gone. Same as before you passed out. Your ribs hurt as you tried to breathe. Panicking from the pain, a doctor rushed in.
Telling you all the things wrong with you, all the options you had.
Nothing felt good enough. Your body was broken, caved in. You lost not only your leg but most of your mobility, everything hurt. You were told everything would continue to hurt. Physical therapy and healing quirks could only do so much.
You tried to listen as the doctor droned on and on about how they had the best doctors. How they could get you a prosthetic that could help you walk again.
The fact that you wouldn't be able to walk without it stunned you.
How could you ever continue to be a hero in this state? You knew Mirko had done it, even your teacher Aizawa did it. But this felt life-changing. It was life-changing.
You thought you died. You didn't want to die.
"Fucking hell," you turned your attention to Katsuki, who just barged in. Pausing in the doorway as he looked you over.
You could say something sappy and it'd be true. As you looked at him you thought over everything. Barely hearing the concerned questions he asked you before turning to the doctor.
Raising a kid as two pro heroes would be impossible. Katsuki and you wanted kids, you couldn't let them see you like this, or worse. They couldn't live without a mother or father.
You couldn't be a hero.
"I'll take a prosthetic," you spoke out finally.
They both looked at you, the doctor labeling your options, "There are a lot of good options for hero work-"
"I'll just have a normal one," you avoided looking at Katsuki, almost ashamed. You loved hero work. You loved saving people. Working harder each day alongside him as you aimed to be your best.
"Okay, I'll file the paperwork," the doctor excused himself, leaving the room to you and Katsuki.
He stared at you for a while, waiting for you to speak. "I think I'm done," you said softly, "All this hero work, consumes my life."
He grasped your hands in his, "Okay."
"I'm sorry, I know that's not what you wanted-"
"But it's what you want," he shot down your apology, "It's okay."
"I don't know what I'll do-"
"We'll figure it okay together," he got rid of your doubts, "I don't think I could stomach seeing you like this again anyway," he confessed.
-
Quitting was difficult, it changed your life drastically. You stayed home more often, picking up smaller hobbies that you never had time for before.
Reading more often, baking, cooking, you were even starting to learn how to crochet. You had so much time and it was freeing. Leaving you with a flexible schedule. Helping Katsuki out on cases he needed a second opinion on, or what event he should go for to help his publicity.
Devoting your time to things you loved freely, rather than just hero work. You missed it sometimes, after all, you have been doing it since you were 15 and only stopped a year ago when you were 26.
It made things easier, schedule easily aligning with Katsuki and giving you more time with the spikey blonde. More time together allowed you to get closer, him engaging on your three-year anniversary.
You thought about your wedding, planned for next year, as you flipped through your new recipe book. Stumbling on a delicious-looking meal that you thankfully had all the ingredients for. Grabbing the ingredients absent-mindedly as you thought about the type of wedding you'd have.
Katsuki didn't care much, telling you to go nuts with it. His mom wanted to help though, and you warmly welcomed it. Excited to be close to his family at any opportunity.
Cutting each ingredient carefully as you mix it into the full meal. Humming in thought when you heard Katsuki's keys on the other side of the front door.
He walked into the kitchen after smelling your cooking, every day you offered him a new meal. He loved that you shared this hobby with him.
"What y'making?" he walked behind where you stood at the stove. Wrapping his arms around your waist as he buried his chin into your shoulder, looking at what you were doing.
"I just found a new recipe! The cookbook I bought has so many good things," you shared excitedly, "Lots of protein and vegetables, just the way you like it."
"I fuckin' love you," he kissed your neck and hugged you tighter.
You rolled your eyes, grabbing a hand towel and wiping your hands off before you turned in his grip, wrapping your arms around his neck. He had his hero mask pushed up over his eyes, holding his hair back. "How was work?" you asked, swaying lightly with him.
"Work," he replied back, leaning down to kiss you.
Your lips connected for a moment before you pulled back, "You need a shower," you tried to smack away the taste of charcoal that was left on your lips. Concerned about how he even had that happen.
He rolled his eyes, squeezing at the fat of your hips, "As long as you join me?"
You looked over your shoulder and at the food, "I don't know, food just got done."
Without another word he pulled away from you and grabbed a pan lid, placing it over the pan filled with food and taking it off the heat. "We'll reheat it later, let's go," he grabbed your hand and put you in front of him as he walked behind you to the shower.
You giggled as you matched the forced pace he was making you walk, "Impatient much?" you teased.
He didn't answer, just pulled his shirt right off your body. He stared at it enough already and wanted more. He groaned when he noticed you were only wearing panties, the cheeky ones that he loved. "Fuckin' knew today was gonna be a good day," he mumbled before kissing you roughly, scaling kisses down your neck and onto your chest. He didn't seem like he could be happier at the fact you weren't wearing a bra, pressing kisses at every bare inch of you.
Nipping at your bud before sucking your tit into his mouth. His hand taking care of the other. "Kats," you whined, pulling him away by his hair when he mumbled a 'what' into your chest, "Shower."
Reluctantly he pulled away, flipping the shower on before ripping his shirt off, pushing his pants and boxers off as well. His hairband had fallen off when he was kissing you earlier. Despite being with him for three years, you still flushed at him bare.
He was built amazingly, sheer hard work sculpted him into a Greek god. You watched his arm ripple in muscle as he checked the temperature of the water before moving to grab you and push you into the water with him. Connecting your lips once in.
"I mean it Kats," you pushed his chest away, making his hair start soaking with water, "Shower."
Making a show of following your orders, he quickly washed his hair. Probably taking the fastest shower of his life before taking his time to run the soap over your body. Not nearly as rough as he washed his own. Kissing your shoulder blade before washing your back, "Beautiful," he murmured into your skin.
You twisted in his hold, deciding you were clean enough before you leaned into him locking his lips in a passionate kiss. You were only human after all, it's impossible to refuse him for long
Bringing your hands up to tangle into his hair, pulling him closer to your height. Easing the strain on the prosthetic, thankful that it was waterproof.
He took anything you gave him, following your lead as you backed yourself into the shower wall. His hands grabbed at your thighs and lifted you, pressing you into the cold tile as he held you up. Kissing his marks over your chest. Layering over where he had already kissed.
"I love you so fucking much," he murmured into your skin, taking a moment to back away and look over you. Soaking in the look you were giving him, full of devotion.
"I love you more," you whispered in reply, pulling him into another kiss. Leaving him to squeeze your thigh, frustrated that you shut him up with a kiss.
He pushed you more into the wall with one hand while he moved his other between you. Trailing it between your folds "It's been too fucking long," he groaned when he felt you, wet and wanting him.
"Can I just have you?" you whined, moving your hand into his hair and pulling desperately. He'd tease you for hours if he could. And with the colding temperature of the water, you couldn't handle that.
"Need me that bad?" he smirked down at you, circling his fingers over your clit meanly.
"Please?"
He wasn't lying when he said it had been too long. The second he gave in and lined himself up, the strain of just his tip was enough to force your head back. The push of him into you felt relieving, it was something you had missed without even knowing.
"Oh fuck," he moaned, head falling into your shoulder as he stilled. Letting you adjust for just a moment before he pulled his hips back. Slowly building pace as he works you both up to the climax.
Breaths tangled together as the steam from the shower clouded your vision.
Your hands were moving over his back and up his shoulders, trying to steady yourself despite his constant thrusts. Knocking the breath out of you each time.
His hand stayed on your clit, moving in sharp circles over you as he knew he wouldn't last. He hasn't had you in so long and wouldn't be held back. Yet he wouldn't be the only one to cum.
He was already close, he was worked up the second he saw you in the kitchen. Seeing you in your home together, cooking for him while wearing his clothes. It made him feel like everything would be okay, he had you. Everything was an effort together rather than alone, and he welcomed it.
The small grunts and moans he was making right next to your ear was sending you up the wall.
"Gonna cum baby? Feel y'fuckin' squeezing me," he panted, working his hips harder into his. You whined in reply, nodding your head frantically. He knew all your spots, bullying his cock straight into your spot.
He felt like he was falling in love all over again any time he looked at you, even now. Your eyes squeezed shut in pleasure and your head lolled back, your body relying on him to stay upright as you blabbed for more. Knowing he'd give anything to you if you just asked. Your legs locked around him when you came, completely losing yourself in his hold as he worked his dick into you. Groaning at you tightening around him before he gave in and met you where you were.
Filling you up, not caring if it got you pregnant or not at this point, he knew everything would be fine.
You looked fucked out, eyes half-lidded as you looked at him, he was melting inside. Reluctantly letting you gain your footing back and letting you clean yourself fully.
It was a blur of a shower afterward. He could only focus on you, mind filled only with love as he crowded you after you dried off.
"You okay, kats?" You spoke softly as you hugged him back.
"Just fuckin love you, got an issue?" he snapped back as he hugged you tighter. He was just as devoted to you as you were to him, even if he didn't always get the time to prove it.
(I'm very meh about this work but I decided to post it anyway, I need to write more and challenge myself. If you have any ideas or requests you should send them in, I'll try to write them!)
You should read my Bakugo x reader if you liked this work!
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dewdropdinosaur · 3 months ago
Text
Kinktober Day 20: Threesome
Summary: You're good with kids, there is no doubt. Heck, you're a kindergarten teacher, you love little ones. Your boyfriends on the other hand, just love how great you are with kids. Maybe it's time to give you one of your own. Warnings: P in V sex, threesome, breeding kink, cum, reader had a vagina, etc. MDNI, 18+. You're responsible for your own media consumption. Kinktober Mention of the Day: @cassandrascottt
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You stood at the front of the classroom, laughter mingling with the excited chatter of the students. The vibrant walls were filled with painted art projects, and the scent of crayons and fresh paper lingered in the air. Today’s lesson was all about storytelling, and you had encouraged the kids to use their imaginations, their faces lighting up with every new idea. From being a superhero, a princess, or a dragon, your student’s ideas never failed to excite you. 
As the bell rang, the students began to gather their things, and you smiled, waving them off. “Remember, tomorrow is our storytelling contest! Bring your best tales but make sure they are written in your scrapbook!” The children cheered and scrambled out, their giggles echoing in the hall. The day had ended and while a satisfying one, you couldn’t wait to get back home and snuggle up to some warm food with your boyfriends. Yes, Wade Wilson and Logan were an odd pair by themselves but adding you into the mix seemed to make it all the sweeter (or hornier if you asked Wade). 
Outside, you spotted Wade and Logan leaning against the school’s brick wall. Wade, in a red graphic tee and a pair of black jeans, was animatedly gesturing as he spoke, while Logan, in his classic flannel and jblue eans, looked not as amused, arms crossed over his chest. Your heart swelled, it was moments like this—seeing the two of them together—that reminded you of how unique their relationship was.
“Hey, beautiful!” Wade called out, his voice playful. “How many lives did you ruin today with your educational superpowers?”
Laughing with an eye roll, you replied while approaching the duo. “Just a few. No one will need intensive therapy after my storytelling lesson!”
Logan pushed off the wall, a smirk tugging at his lips. “You’re doing just fine. Kids need someone who gets them.” He stepped closer, his presence grounding and warm.
As you walked to the car, Wade pretended to swoon dramatically. “Oh, I’m hot for teacher! So captivating! Did you see how the kids hung on your every word? I was this close to signing up for kindergarten myself!” He pinched his fingers dramatically, as if to show just how close he was to sitting in on your class. It would certaintly be interesting.
Logan chuckled, shaking his head. “You’d probably scare them off with your face, bub”
A slow blush creeped up your cheeks as Logan opened the car door for you. “You both are ridiculous,” you tried to sound agitated, putting on your best teacher voice, but a shy smile betrayed your amuesment. “But it’s sweet. I’m glad you think I’m good with the kids.”
That caught their attention. They had certaintly talked about it before but now hearing the idea aloud, how good you were with kids thta weren’t even your own, now that sparked an idea. With a quick glance to each other, no words were needed to form the plan that was about to commence. Allowing the thoughts to stew on the ride home, you had no idea of their plan when you entered your shared apartment. Of course, it was messy but the boys had allowed you to decorate it; making it seem less like a college frat dorm room and more like a home. And if their plan came to fruition, it certainy would be a home indeed. 
Suddenly, Logan grabbed yours wrists and pinned you down against the nearest wall. His smoldering gaze glowered down at you as his face leaned down to whisper in huskily in your ear. 
“What do you think about having some kits of your own?” 
“What?” 
Coming to your side, Wade joined his partner in looking down at you. Using his hand to reach around and cup your chin, he brought your shocked gaze to look up at him.
“Dollface, I think peanut here is asking to breed you. And I am certainly not opposed to the idea. I mean I am sure a hundred Tumblr fics have been written about it already—” 
A dark chuckle erupted from Logans throat at Wade’s words, for once he wasn’t annoyed at the merc’s mouth.  As he stood up and let his grip go, both men now stared down at you. After some stumbling and a few apologies to about tripping over variois objects, all three parties ended up in the master bedroom with clothes on the floor. You, laid on the bed and the boy’s eyes darkened with hunger at the sight of your bare form, a silent understanding among them of what was about to happen. 
Wade leaned down and took one of your hardened nipples in his mouth, the warmth of his tongue teasing the aroused bud. Dragging his hands across your torso, he slowly marked your skin with his hands. Logan, instead dipped down and spread your thighs, enjoying the way they felt in his calloused hands. With a whimper, you couldn’t help but arch your back into his touch as he dragged his nose across your slit. The heat from his breath left you soaked with desire, cunt clenching around nothing as you imagined all the things that were about to happen. 
Hoisting your legs up on his shoulders, Logan massaged the tip of his cock against you hole. Not allowed a moment of reprieve, sheathing his heady member into your cunt with one stroke, Wade then bit the corner of your collarbone to distract you from Logan’s actions. He stretched your needy hole,  both of your moaning both at the sight and feeling, the delicious yet somewhat burning friction that both of you so desperately craved.  You gasped at the stretch, gripping the sheets with each strong stroke. The velvet of your walls squeezing Logan so tight that with every exit and entry of his member into your cunt, the ribs of his cock rubbed against you in a painfully delicious way. Wade took initative and slowly started to leave hot wet kisses and nips across the valley of your neck, only pausing to whisper filthy things in your ear as Logan carried out a relentless pace. 
“He’s gonna fuck you so good baby. Think about how good you’ll look, so big and glowing with our baby inside you. You’re gonna be such a good momma. Want us to make you a momma dollface?"
Gosh, he was so hot like this. You hung onto everyword, every image you presented you with. It was addicting, the feeling of Logan inside you, the softness of Wade’s lips worshiping your body as he debauched words continued to send wave after wave of arousal shooting straight down to your already weeping pussy. And you knew it may never happen, you were still on the pill and by all means Wade was infertile with Logan’s ability to breed in question since he was older. 
But by any means, you could certaintly get used to this. 
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