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utilitycaster · 1 day

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Bonus:

Campaign 2 episode 92/Campaign 3 episode 92 parallels (with some assistance from 3x89)

Transcription of the text in the above images (screenshots from the Critical Role Transcript Search) below the cut:

The following is excerpts from Campaign 2, Episode 92, and Campaign 3 Episode 92 (except one from 89, noted below), interspersed. Travis is playing Fjord, Marisha is playing Beau, Laura is playing Imogen, Liam is playing Orym, and Matt plays Thoreau Lionett in the Campaign 2 excerpt and Liliana Temult in the Campaign 3 excerpt:

First image:

TRAVIS: Your histamine reactions are going again.

MARISHA: Yeah. I've been away from Zadash for a little bit, so the pollen, it's kicking a little, you know?

TRAVIS: I take it you don't fully, fully hate your dad. It's got to be hard to hear this.

Second image:

LAURA: I'm going to heard toward Orym who's at a distance and approach slowly.

LIAM: Hey.

LAURA: Hi. I'm going to put my hand on your shoulder.

LIAM: Sorry, I know how hard all that is for you.

Third image:

MARISHA: Everyone wants to make their dad proud, you know? Just hoping he could, he could show some of that.

TRAVIS: You don't know that he can't. It's been years. You've grown, you've changed. I'm sure you were even more of an unbearable shit before. I'm not saying he deserves a second chance, but he is your father, and you do have a mother, and a brother that you've never met.

MARISHA: (sniffs) I guess it's hard when... the word inevitable has been brought up several times in the past 24 hours amongst us. I feel like I've found my family with The Mighty Nein. I don't like looking at my past, because it doesn't have The Mighty Nein in it, and I think I put off the inevitable, because I'm going to-- I'm afraid it's going to be like my past.

Fourth image:

LAURA: Don't apologize. I can't begin to understand how hard it is for you.

LIAM: You know, every one of us makes our decisions with the lenses or prisms we see life through.

LAURA: Mm-hmm.

LIAM: I can't take mine down. (sobs softly) It's not even about revenge for me. (sniffles) I just try and honor what they sign up to do. (sniffles) I just try and honor what they sign up to do.

LAURA: I didn't know them, but I can't imagine they wouldn't look at you and not be proud.

LIAM: (sighs sadly)

LAURA: I think you've gone farther than anyone could ever expect you to, and you're still going.

Fifth image:

TRAVIS: I don't think one contaminates the other. You've got good, solid footing here. I mean, shit, if we want to run, we run. If we want to kick his ass, we'll kick his ass.

MARISHA: Yeah. (sniffing) I kind of want to kick his ass, and I don't want to run.

TRAVIS: Could I ask you, in your wildest dreams, and feel free to say you don't want to tell me, what would you have happen when we go there?

MARISHA: I think I've worked so hard because I scripted this day, in my inevitable future that I would go back to him, successful woman, respectable member of society, Cobalt Soul, an Expositor, the thing he threw me away to, and I embraced. And then, I would get mad at myself, because I felt like I was doing exactly what he was doing to me my entire life, scripting me to be something else. And I'm still doing it. I haven't seen him in three years, and I'm still trying to be... something. And I think what's scary is that I like this, and what I've found, and I don't think it was until Nott started talking about having to go home and go away that it truly started terrifying me. Because for the first time, I'm happy. And what if that goes away?

Sixth image:

LIAM: (sighs softly) (sniffles) So far. I'm going to miss him.

LAURA: Yeah. Yeah.

LIAM: I'm going to miss Letters.

(sniffles)

LAURA: They were-- They were alive.

LIAM: Out of any of us, he just wanted to help.

Seventh image:

TRAVIS: It could always go away. It could go away tonight. The Gentleman's debtors could come calling.

MARISHA: (chuckling) And I think I know that, and I think I say things to Nott like, "You don't have to put those stipulations on yourself" because I've convinced myself that destiny or the inevitability won't come knocking. If you ignore it, it won't exist, and that's not true.

TRAVIS: (sighs) It'll be interesting either way. Your face is leaking.

MARISHA: I hate it.

TRAVIS: I won't tell anyone.

MARISHA: Don't tell anybody.

TRAVIS: Yep. You're a good friend. You're a good trainer.

Eighth image:

LAURA: I want you to know that that for a while it may have felt that you and I were not seeing eye to eye or maybe you felt that I, I didn't have the same goal in mind that you did. But don't worry about that anymore, all right?

LIAM: I understand family.

LAURA: Yeah. Yeah.

LIAM: I want for all the world for you to have your family.

LAURA: I wanted that, too, and (chuckles) god, that back and forth is a pretty funny thing, but choices were made. If nothing else, then at least we've got a little bit of knowledge on the inside now.

LIAM: Yeah. As much we'd like to, you can't turn back the clock.

LAURA: That's right. But you've got us.

Bonus image 1:

MARISHA: Mom already fucking mentioned that life gets difficult and it's hard. So you're right. Maybe it's easy to justify the easy way out, just get rid of the problem.

MATT: "That's not what this was about. You were on the self-destructive path. We didn't know what to do. I've never been a-- no one teaches you how to be a good father. I regret choices I've made, and you don't think I don't hold myself responsible for-- I thought I was doing what was best for you, truly."

MARISHA: You did. It was probably the best thing you could've done for me. So thank you. Tell me the story again, and then I'll go.

Bonus image 2 (from 3x89):

MATT: "History is filled with evil men. But few have the courage to stand up and try and stop them. Where I'm standing, I don't think we're on the opposing sides like you think we are. We just have a different myth, that's all. That's all. Please see it in yourself to understand why I've done and given up all of this."

LAURA: Maybe it's your turn to run. And I wake up.

#critical role #fjord stone #beauregard lionett #imogen temult #orym

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vicciouxs · 6 months

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make yourself with this little guy picrew <3

I know the purpose of this is to follow the chain, but I got overwhelmed because there were so many 😭😭 anyway, thank you sm @yuyulie for tagging me 🥺⚘

tags: @machinegrl @faestelle @elderwisp @fizzytoo @lilacmaze @veone @byou-shin ( ignore if u want 🌞💐 )

#Im so happy letting my hair grow 😭#I've always cut it because I didn't feel good about myself #but that has now changed #I feel like I can be myself with long hair too and that makes me feel good </3 #love yall <3 #vinny.txt

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rafescurtainbangz · 4 months

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Sorry, Top (Rafe Cameron Blurb) +18

Minor DNI

Had to adjust this little Hargrove blurb for my OBX friends because I think it's pretty dark!rafe coded, IMO. Sorry, Topper.

Fingering, dry-humping, name-calling, mutual masturbation, manipulation, Rafe doesn't ask or wait for permission, reader wants to go farther

Dark!Rafe x Inexperienced Female Reader (Topper's GF who has always had a thing for Rafe)

Reader's POV:

You lower your eyelids a little more, trying your best to look like you're sleeping as you watch Topper's best friend palm himself over his white Calvin Kleins.

Your heart starts to pick up pace, anticipation building as his roommate hooks his fingers around the elastic band. The blonde draws them down nice and slow, making butterflies flood your stomach as he releases his cock. Holy shit…

You can feel your body pulse head to toe, a foreign feeling between your thighs, wet against the fabric of your panties. What the fuck?

Your hand roams slowly down your own body, doing your best to keep up your facade of sleep. Your thighs widen on the dorm mattress as your fingers slip under your little satin shorts.

Rafe reaches over to the nightstand, snagging some lube from the drawer. You never thought once about why he would rummage around there in the middle of the night, but now you can't stop.

How many times has he jerked off like this? With us here?

Your fingers meet your slit, making your stomach sink as you feel how absolutely soaked you are. For Rafe? You run your fingers through your wet folds, feeling the slightest bit of relief.

Rafe wraps his hand around his thick dick, eyes batting to a close as he starts to stroke. Fuck. I've only seen a cock before in porn… I didn't want to be completely untaught when Topper finally made his move.

Rafe's big… Shit. He's so fucking huge. His swollen head glistens with lube, somehow even harder after the touch of his own hand.

Your body aches; your gliding hand no longer doing the trick. Your fingers find their way down to your entrance, pressing inside, making you bite back a moan.

You start to match his pace, stuffing your fingers into your cunt at the same cadence. Rafe throws his head back on the pillow, making your heart skip as your name falls from his pretty lips.

My name? Me?

You feel your adrenaline course through your veins. Baffled that he would be choosing you from the roster of women he usually has in his bed, sometimes one, sometimes two.

Say it again...

“Bounce on my cock, Princess,” he grunts. It's not my name… but it's what Top calls me. Your wrist bumps against your clit. Ugh. That felt good. More.

You slip your other hand down your body, pressing against your nub, a feeling so good you can't help but release a breathy whine.

Topper moves out of the corner of your eye, making you stop dead in your tracks. He lets out a little snore. Guilt starts to creep in as you see him sleeping so peacefully, so sweetly, his messy blonde hair piled on his pillow.

But I can't fucking stop.

Your eyes quickly shift back to Rafe, making you jump slightly as you see him standing right in front of you, incredibly close. You take a little breath, eyes working higher on his body. His eyes lock on yours; his stare is dark and deep.

He grabs the comforter, peeling it off your body. You feel the chill of the wetness between your thighs, making your eyes fall low.

“M’gonna help you with that, princess. Don't worry,” he breathes; you can hear his cockiness through his hushed tone still.

“What do you mean? W-What are you doing?” You ask softly as he lowers his body on top of yours. You expel a breath as he presses himself against you.

Rafe buries himself in the crook of your neck, lips pressing against your hot skin. You take in his smell, his rich cologne clouding all your senses. “Let me help you,” he whispers, nipping at your earlobe. “Don't worry, Angel. Put my boxers on… Would hate to get that sweet pussy before Top does. Couldn't control myself otherwise.”

“Rafe… I-” You’re cut off by his lips, pressing roughly against yours, swallowing your gasp as he grinds his clothed cock against you.

He bumps your clit with his rock-hard bulge, swallowing your moan. “That’s it, huh? Feels good. Yeah?”

“Yeah. Y-Yeah,” you whimper.

“Wanna make you feel good,” he pants against your kiss.

It does… It feels good. So fucking good. Heat burns behind your eyes because of it, eyes glassing over the thought of doing this to Topper, so close to Topper.

“B-But Topper?”

If I wanted this to stop, all I'd have to do is say the word. All I'd have to do is call for Top, but all I want to do is scream for Rafe.

“Go ahead, baby. Wake him up. Say his name. Let me deal with him. Yeah? Or, I could just deal with you...”

“I don't know, Rafe.”

“Good friends share, sweetheart.”

“Rafe...”

“Stop actin’ so innocent. Like you weren't watching me stroke my cock. Like I couldn't hear that wet little pussy from over there,” he hisses as he grinds harder into you. “Caught’cha, didn't I?” He smiles against your lips, making heat spread across your body.

Rafe releases a moan, then another, getting off on you and you on him. You reach around his body, tugging slightly at the elastic of his boxers.

“You trying to take ‘em off, Princess?” He taunts. “Nah… Not today. Gonna get you just like this. But, tonight… You gonna let me taste you tonight, baby?”

“Yeah…”

He chuckles darkly, making chills fall down your body straight to your aching core.

“Naughty little thing. Aren't you?”

Rafe rolls his hips again and again, grinding his clothed cock against your sex as you whimper in sensitivity. “Can feel how wet you are through my boxers. Bet your panties are soaked, you little slut.”

Your back arches at the sounds of his devilish words. The tears in your eyes tumble down your cheeks as you feel your climax about to overtake you. Rafe's blue jean eyes soften on yours. “Hey… Hey. It's gonna be okay,” he soothes. “You gonna cum?” He asks between gentle kisses.

Your teeth sink into your plump bottom lip, eyes rolling back in your skull. “Cum for me, angel,” he whispers as he draws up your shirt higher.

He grips his cock. His ruddy head leaking at the tip. Rafe lowers himself to your ear as he continues to rut.

“I’m gonna… Fuck, Rafe,” you whisper, digging your heels into the mattress as you hold back your blissful cries. You moan his name as your pussy flutters around nothing.

Rafe answers with your name on his lips, hot wet ropes of cum landing on your bare skin. Rafe reaches down, running two ringed fingers through his spent.

“Open.” You open your mouth, Rafe's digits making their way in between. “Suck.” You suck on his fingers all the way to his gold rings, tasting cum for the first time. “Good fuckin’ girl.”

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x smut #rafe cameron blurb #rafe Cameron smut one shot #older rafe cameron #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron one shot #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron smut #topper obx #rafe smut #rafe x y/n #rafe x you #rafe x reader #dark!rafe cameron #drew starkey smut #outer banks blurb

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kiarastromboli · 5 months

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I missed u (Matt Sturniolo x Y/n)

Masterlist.

Warning: Smut content, don’t like it = don’t read it :)

Summary: You and your boyfriend Matt haven't seen each other for two weeks, and it's becoming unbearable for both of you.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

Matt and I have been a couple for over a year now. Since the beginning of our relationship, we've always been very close, to the point where I don't think we've ever gone more than 2 days without seeing each other until last week.

I didn't think his absence would affect me so much. This week, Matt has been particularly busy with his YouTube channel, and he and his brothers have had quite a few projects to manage lately. As for me, I've been swamped with work; we're entering the Christmas season, so my job is busier than the rest of the year.

Anyway, it's been more than two weeks now since I've had the chance to see my boyfriend, and I feel like I'm going crazy. I have trouble sleeping without him, and I won't lie about the fact that I really want him right now. I know he feels the same way. The only times we've had the chance to call each other in the past two weeks were for him to relieve some pressure because, according to him, he "can't do it alone."

This leaves me desperate in the situation. I've tried to distract myself by masturbating several times, but it doesn't help. I'm incredibly horny, and the only thing that could help me right now is Matt.

I was quietly in bed at 1 a.m., unable to sleep as usual, when I was alerted by a message from my boyfriend on my phone.

I knew teasing Matt wasn't a very good idea, firstly because he's been just as horny as me lately, so I knew it would frustrate him. Secondly, it would end up frustrating me too...

I could see Matt starting to type and then stopping, as if he was hesitant to send me a message. After waiting for several minutes, I decided to put my phone down when I realized he wouldn't respond.

Well, at least that's what I thought before receiving another notification on my phone...

I got up from my bed to walk over to my wardrobe. I pulled out an assortment of lingerie I had bought a few days ago for this special occasion, especially for Matt. It was a blue lace set, Matt's favorite color. I knew it would drive him crazy to see me in it. The garter belt gave me a goddess-like figure, and the bra held my chest perfectly, although I knew Matt wouldn't waste a second to tear it off. I was already completely wet at the thought.

Barely finishing tidying up my room, he was already there knocking on my door. I hurried to run and open it for him in my little outfit.

"Hi-" he began to say before I cut him off, pulling him towards me by his collar and kissing him as I opened the door for him to enter.

"So eager," he said, disconnecting our lips with a smirk.

He took a step back to observe me in more detail when he saw what I was wearing. I could see his pupils dilate. I spun around to give him a better view, and he grabbed me by the waist after running his hand over his face to make sure he wasn't dreaming.

"Do you like what you see?" I asked, smiling.

His grip on my waist tightened as I locked eyes with him. He licked his lips and bit them, continuing to look me up and down.

"Do you remember your safe word?" he asked, bringing his hand to my throat to force me to look him in the eyes.

"Ketchup," I said, chuckling to tease him. He tightened his hand around my throat, eliciting a soft moan from my lips.

"I'm serious, y/n. What's your safe word?" he said in an intimidating voice, bringing his lips close to mine.

"Hmm, red," I said in a tiny voice, biting my lips. I could feel a warmth building between my legs just from his voice.

His eyes left mine to gaze at my slightly swollen, rosy lips from our previous kiss. A smile played on the corner of his face before he started advancing towards my bedroom, not letting go of my throat.

"Kiss me," I begged when we reached my room, and the back of my legs touched the side of my bed.

"What did you say? I think I misheard," he replied, amused by my impatience and desire.

"Please, Matt, kiss me," I pleaded, frustrated that he wouldn't press his lips against mine again. I looked pathetic, and he loved it.

He took off his t-shirt. "Show me that you deserve it," he said, chuckling before pushing me onto the bed so that I sat right in front of him.

I raised my eyes to him, giving him an innocent doe-eyed look. He looked at me as if he were a predator, and I was his prey. My eyes drifted to the bulge in his gray sweatpants in front of me before returning my gaze to him.

"Don't play shy with me, baby. I know you're dying for it. Take it," he said in an authoritative tone, grabbing my hair in a ponytail to clear my face while licking his lips.

I brought both of my hands to the elastic of his sweatpants, pulling them down to his ankles, leaving him in his boxers. He was bulging in his boxers; I had almost forgotten how sizable it was. Not too big to be unmanageable, but just big enough to fill me where I needed it. However, it had been a while since we had been intimate, and I already dreaded the pain I would likely feel when he penetrates me.

"Stop looking at it like that, suck it before I shove it down your throat, y/n. Don't make me wait," he said, abruptly pulling on my hair, making me sigh in surprise.

I started to palm him through his boxers, looking him straight in the eyes. I could see the intense desire burning in his eyes, making me smile in the moment.

"This is the last time I'm warning you, y/n. Stop teasing me, take it," he said, trying to hold back a frustrated moan when I removed his boxers.

"Or what?" I said, smiling playfully. I wanted to push him to the edge; I knew he wouldn't be gentle with me, and that's what I wanted.

He smiled, licking his lips to suppress a chuckle.

"You want to play like that, huh?" he said, running his thumb over my lips. I quickly took it between my teeth and nodded, looking him in the eyes.

"Fuck, I missed you so much," he said, removing his thumb from my mouth to grasp his member and press it against my lips, signaling me to open my mouth, which I eventually did.

Without warning, he immediately thrust it deep into my throat, catching me off guard and making me cough around his cock.

He chuckled but didn't stop his momentum. He began guiding my head back and forth faster and faster. I tried my best not to choke and to suppress my gag reflex every time he hit the back of my throat.

"I missed fucking your pretty little mouth like this, princess," he said, breathing rapidly. "You're so good with your tongue," he added, throwing his head back, making me moan around his cock.

Tears started to flow down my cheeks due to his constant abuse on the back of my throat, and he quickly noticed, coming to wipe my tears away with his thumb.

"Look at you crying like a baby when you were acting all tough just a few minutes ago," he said with a smirk. I furrowed my brows, unable to help but moan every time he opened his mouth to say something.

I was completely at his mercy, and I loved it. He let go of my hair to grasp my face with both hands before thrusting into me at an inhuman speed. He released moans and groans, and it only excited me even more.

He pulled out of my mouth suddenly, causing me to let out a sigh of relief and frustration. "Why did you stop?" I asked, breathless.

He leaned in to kiss me fiercely. "I'm not done with you, baby, don't worry," he said, smiling against my lips before pushing me to move back towards my headboard. He was now positioned above me, his lips glued to mine without any struggle for dominance; his tongue didn't have to fight for control.

His hand moved from my cheek to my neck, then to my chest, where he paused for a moment to play with my nipples through my delicate lace bra, making me moan again, this time into our kiss. I felt completely intoxicated, drugged by him, by his lips on mine, and his hands on my body. I was on fire, completely consumed by him. I wanted him to do unimaginable things to me.

His hand left my chest to roam my waist, where he sank his fingers before descending to my lower abdomen.

My breathing quickened; he was getting closer and closer to where I needed him. I couldn't take it anymore; I only dreamed of one thing: him touching me.

He started playing with the lace of my panties, frustrating me at the moment. I wanted him to go further, but I knew he was punishing me for my previous behavior. "Matt, please," I said, moaning and closing my eyes. I needed him to touch me; I was dying for it.

"Please what, baby? You're a big girl; formulate a proper sentence, princess," he said with a big smile. He knew exactly what I wanted; he just wanted me to say it. He enjoyed seeing me beg; he loved it.

"Please touch me, I need you. Stop making me wait. I promise to behave like a good girl. Please, touch me, Matt," I pleaded, moaning pathetically. He directed his lips to my neck before finally touching me through my panties.

I let out a sigh of relief when I finally felt his fingers apply pressure to my clit. He made agonizingly slow circular motions, and I began to squirm against the mattress, frustrated because I wanted more. I needed more.

"Matt," I said in a frustrated moan, feeling him smile against the skin of my neck. He slipped his hand into my panties this time, letting out a surprised moan in my ear when he felt how wet I was for him.

"Soaked like a little slut," he said before coming to suck marks on my neck.

"Yes, your slut, and only yours," I replied, moaning when he started massaging my clit harder and faster. I couldn't help but moan at this point; it was stronger than me. I could feel that familiar knot tightening in my stomach; I had been waiting for days to finally climax properly.

But suddenly, and without warning, as I dangerously approached my orgasm, he removed his hand from my panties. I raised my head with a frustrated moan once again. He sat up to look me in the eyes with a satisfied smile. "What's wrong? Were you about to come? Did I stop at the wrong moment?" he said, chuckling.

"Matt," I told him, looking at him with frustration for what he had just inflicted on me. He took me by the waist to switch our positions this time, him below and me just above him.

"You're lucky it's been two weeks since we've done anything. If it weren't the case, I would have left you hanging to punish you for how you behaved with me," he said, grabbing me by the throat before giving me a hip thrust, rubbing his erection against my still clothed pussy.

I let out another moan before leaning slightly forward to rest on my arm placed on his chest. "Take off your panties before I tear them off," he said, smiling.

I moved off him to remove my panties and then straddled him. He directed me towards his face. "Ride my face, baby," he said authoritatively.

I hesitated for a moment before giving in and positioning myself just above his face. His arms wrapped around my thighs as if to prevent me from escaping his grasp. I slowly let myself fall onto his face, and when I felt his tongue on my pussy, I thought I was going to go completely insane.

He began to lick my clit going progressively faster and humping against me which sent vibrations directly against my clit, I hadn't put my weight on his face for fear of smothering him but I could feel my thighs weakening as the minutes passed. He began to lick my hole assiduously, his nose rubbing against my clit which pushed me even further towards my orgasm, his fingers were planted in my thighs when he felt them trembling because they were weakening, he came to press on them to force me to put all my weight on his face.

I tried to resist but I was so obsessed by the effect he was having on me that I finally cracked, leaving all my weight on his face, which caused the pressure of his nose on my clit to increase, making me moan louder than the previous ones.

I started rubbing back and forth on his face controlled by my pleasure it was all just too much for me the sensation in my lower belly started to become unbearable "M-matt- oh my- fuckkkk" I said closing my eyes feeling my orgasm approaching.

I raised my pelvis because I felt that all this stimulation was too much for me, the orgasm that was dangerously close was driving me crazy but Matt had another plan in mind with the help of his arms he came to press again on my thighs to force me to stay in place, he started to eat me with more passion I threw my head back when I felt my orgasm coming "fuck- I'm going to cum. "I groaned, almost screaming, at the pleasure he was giving me, and suddenly the pressure was off again. I came all over his face, shouting his names and a few insults along the way, before letting myself fall onto the bed next to him.

My eyes were closed, I was out of breath and Matt came to stand beside me, kissing my cheek before whispering in my ear "I'm still not done with you", I could hear his smirk in the tone of his sentence.

He straightened up and turned me against the mattress, now on my stomach. "Matt, wait, I'm too sensitive," I said, turning my head slightly towards him. He grabbed me by the hips and arched me so that I was level with his pelvis.

"I don't care you can take it I know you can." he said in my ear before straightening up and rubbing his member against my hole. His free hand caressed the length of my back before grabbing the back of my neck and pressing my head against his pillow.

He knew it'd been a while so he gently pushed inside me and I let out a moan of pain at the burning and stretching sensation, he stopped halfway through to ask me "Are you all right princess?" and I couldn't help but smile at his concern, it was so paradoxical that he should ask me that after fucking my throat like a monster and giving me one of the most powerful orgasms I'd ever had.

"Yes, baby, you can move, I just need to get back to your size," I said, moaning softly. He moved forward again until he hit bottom and let out a beautiful moan.

"I can't believe this pussy is mine." he said as he caressed my ass before starting to stroke back and forth.

"Fuck you're really tight I'm not going to last very long." he moaned clutching my hips as if his life depended on it.

I felt like I'd gone completely stupid because of his cock, it was going exactly where I needed it to go, the only sounds coming out of my mouth were moans and my boyfriend's name, as if my memory had been wiped and those were the things left out of my vocabulary.

He started to speed up the movement and he brought his hand to my clit to play with it was still super sensitive so I couldn't help gesticulating when he did that.

"I'm gonna fucking cum y/n" he said in an animalistic moan his movements had become severely fast he was slapping the bottom like I'd never been able to feel it in my belly.

"Cum with me princess." he said as he felt my pussy clench around him I didn't need to speak he knew my body by heart he knew I was about to cum.

And after a few more thrusts I came for the second time, my vagina convulsing around his cock, pushing it to the edge before he cum inside me.

We stayed in that position for a moment, just long enough to catch our breath, before he pulled out of me and lay down beside me.

With what little strength I had left, I snuggled up to him, "I love you, baby," he said, running his hand through my hair.

"I love you too," I replied in a tired voice with my eyes closed.

"I'm going to run you a bath, my princess, and I'll drop you off at work in the morning, don't worry." he said with a smile before standing up.

Masterlist.

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #ao3 fanfic #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo edit #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #smut

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atinystaypixie · 10 months

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Talk to Me

Warning: Pussy slaps (we love those), unprotected sex (wrap it b4 you tap it), sexual content nun too crazy it's sex

18+ MDNI!!

Ony walked into your shared bedroom to see your figure tangled in the sheets. He knew you weren't sleeping which gave him the confirmation that you still weren't in a good mood. On a normal night, if you had gone to lay down before him you would turn to greet him to the warmth of the bed with open arms ready to cuddle. However, tonight wasn't a normal night. You had been giving him attitude all day which eventually led to an argument between you two. Ony was trying his hardest to understand why you were upset to begin with, but you wouldn't take the time to explain. Instead, you decided to give him a "fuck it, I don't even want to talk about it anymore," and storming off.

You weren't one to express your emotions easily and Ony was always understanding of that. He was one to take his time with you and maintain clear communication. It was part of the reason you loved him so much. You felt bad for acting this way but putting your thoughts into words was harder than having an unjustified attitude.

"Baby," you hear the handsome man call out to you as you feel the weight of the bed sink. He is now sitting behind your back. "Baby, I can't know what's wrong unless you tell me. I've been trying, but I can't figure out what's making you so upset." He says in a soft voice still trying to be gentle and patient with you.

Again, he is met with silence from your side. Now he lightly shakes your shoulder and you respond with a shrug strong enough to throw his hand off of you. This causes the man to become agitated, that patience that you valued so much running thin. He had been at this with you for hours. After all the space and room he gave you to voice your problems, the man didn't know what else to do with you.

"Ma, Imma give you five seconds to fix yourself before I do." The way his voice dropped an octave caused your breathing to still for a second. The second being too long because you felt his weight disappear from behind you. All too quickly, Ony snatched the cover off and wrapped his hand around your ankle. Your world suddenly speeding as he drugged you to the edge of the bed and sat you up. Curling his finger around your chin and staring directly in your face as he now stood in front of you shirtless with only his sweats on. The intensity of his close proximity makes you avoid his deep glare. He didn't appreciate you not looking him in the eyes causing him to tug your chin before speaking. "Look at me," you shyly met his glaze making him hum in appreciation at your obedience. "This gone be the last time I ask you so don't make me repeat myself. What. Is. Your. Problem?" He punctuated every word to get his point across that he wasn't playing with you.

You start mumbling your response, making him cut you off. Pulling closer to you so that his mouth was directly to your ear and his cheek was pressed to yours, "nah. Nah. Speak up like you did earlier when you lost your mind and cursed at me, baby". Your bottom lip started to tremble, “Daddy,” you whine almost inaudibly. Ony let out a small laugh in a breath of air before pulling back to look you in the eyes and dropping his slight smile. “That was yo chance, ma.”

Ony removed his hand from your face to wrap both arms around your thighs and move you to the center of the bed. He spread your pretty, chocolate thighs giving him access to your clothed pussy. “All day, ma. Chance after chance. Yet you still acting up on me for,” suddenly you felt a sharp slap straight between your legs, “nothing!” Ony finished his sentence harshly after he delivered the slap to your pussy. You tried to pull your legs closed but failed due to his large frame being there, “Daddy, wait-” another slap given to your clothed cunt stopped you from finishing your sentence. “Nah, you didn’t want to talk, remember. Keep doing what you was doing. I don’t want to hear it right now.” Ony slapped your pussy three more times before moving to take your booty shorts off revealing your bare pussy to him. You weren’t wearing panties which gave him the sight of your slick starting to spill from your aching cunt.

He rubbed his thumb down your slit then around your folds spreading your arousal. “Giving me attitude for nun then get wet for me? Cute.” This time Ony gave repeated slaps to your exposed clit making you whine in pleasure and pain. He reached his hand that was now covered in your juices and stuck his fingers in your mouth. You started sucking them as he rubbed them on your tongue holding eye contact with you. “That’s my good girl. Why couldn’t you be like this all day?” He removes his fingers and shoves his ring and middle finger into your dripping hole letting his palm stimulate your clit as he roughly rubs your insides. You grab his wrist trying to slow his actions which causes him to take your hand and pin it above your head. “Move, baby. I haven’t even started with you yet so just take it like a big girl.” He says soothingly, the opposite of the assault he is doing on your leaking cunt. Your voice sounds throughout the room as you moan out from the pleasure he is giving you. Squeezing around his fingers, juices dripping down to the bed. Orgasm nearing you start speaking,”Daddy! Baby, please. I’m going to cum.” That’s enough for Ony to halt his actions and lick your wetness off his fingers.

“You’ll talk for that, huh?” He says unamused. He goes to remove your shirt admiring your brown skin, the perkiness of your breast, and your slightly darker, erect nipples. He runs his large hands up and down your sides to sooth you after the ruined orgasm before bringing one hand to the back of your neck and giving you a kiss for the first time tonight. It’s nasty. Tongue on tongue, saliva swapping, smacking sounds. It’s got you drunk off of him, so drunk you almost don’t hear him say “open your mouth, ma”. When you do, he grabs your throat and spits into your mouth. He starts kissing you again then trails down to your neck sucking and biting at the skin. Ony takes one of your nipples in between his fingers and squeezes it causing you to throw your head back giving him more access to your neck. Your mouth hangs open letting out gasps and moans which Ony takes notice of. “Oh? Now you can open your mouth? Good, let’s put it to use.” He removes his sweats and leans against the headboard with you now infront of him. Dick hard with a slight curve, vein running down the side, and precum dripping from the tip.

He moves your goddess locs hanging in your face behind your ear and runs his thumb over your bottom lip. In his other hand, he grabs his hard dick and strokes it a couple of times, making you drool at the sight. Ony knows the look in your eyes all too well. You’ve never been one to resist his cock. He bites his lip as he slides his leaking tip over your lips before parting them and slowly guiding the head in. You happily wrap your lips around him excited to have him on your tongue. He pulls back out before pushing your head down on his cock completely. Taking a moment to enjoy the warmness and pulsing of your throat as it adjusts to his intrusion, Ony moans and lovingly rubs your cheek. “Yea, baby. This is a much better use for your mouth.”

After a moment, he pulls your head off of him and watches as your saliva strands disconnect from him. Ony moves you to lay on your back and aligns himself with your pussy. Rubbing his dick between your wet slit causing you both to moan. Your hips moving against his seeking the pleasure he always gives just to be met with a strong hand stopping your movements as he continues to tease you. “You’ll get what I give you. Closed mouths don’t get fed, but you ain’t never heard that obviously.” He taps the heavy member against your bud and slides it to your opening. Circling the entrance and pushing just the tip in making you suck in a breath. He grabs your legs and puts one over his shoulder and pushes the other one open.

“You gone start talking now?” He asks starting to feed you slow, deep thrust. Pushing all the way in and pulling almost completely out before starting again. “Come on pretty girl. Tell Daddy what’s wrong.” He kisses your ankle keeping his rhythm, making your brain foggy. You try to speak but it comes out scrambled due to him hitting your deepest parts and being able to feel every inch of him. “Fuck, bae. Please!” Was your response, only focused on being split open by his dick. It wasn’t what he was looking for. Speeding up his strokes, watching you say incomprehensible sentences Ony presses his weight to you and grabs your hands. You squeal out at the way you can feel him rubbing at your sweet spots even more at this angle. He interlocks your fingers and talks with his lips brushing against yours, “come on, ma. Talk to me.”

He suddenly starts giving you harsh thrust. Rough enough that your body jerks and the bed shakes. You can feel him everywhere. Against your lips, between your fingers, pelvis to clit, walls to dick, and his large frame wrapped between your legs. The stimulation is too much. You can’t help but to squeeze around him and squirt, wetting his abdomen and the sheets. He pauses, “now you just pissing me off.”

Ony pulls out and flips you on your stomach with your ass up and face down. He doesn’t give warning, just sliding back in and giving quick, mean strokes. He brings his hands down, slapping both of your ass cheeks at the same time. You’re screaming into the sheets now due to overstimulation. Ony is merciless. Tired of pleading with you and patience gone. He reaches around to rub at your puffy clit causing you to try to move away. He pulls you back, “stay fucking still.” He doesn’t care to hear you begging him to slow down. The only thing he cares about is when he hears your broken rushed out sentence, “missed you!”

He pulls you up to him, back to chest, “what was that, mamas?” He questions slowly his thrust slightly giving you room to speak. “I just missed you, Daddy. Just wanted your attention.” He turns your head and captures your lips. He smiles and says, “there you go baby. Keep talking to me.” He starts to speed his thrust up again making you moan as you speak, “Just needed - shit- just needed you. Missed ahh spending time with you.” You feel another orgasm approaching, “please let me cum, Ony” you plead with him.

“Go head, ma. I’m right behind you.” He kisses you through your orgasm. Your cum leaking down his shaft as he fills up your clenching hole. Ony lay you both on your sides without pulling out. “I’m sorry, ma. I didn’t know you felt that. You know I would have made more time for you in a heartbeat.”

“I know, baby. I just felt clingy and didn’t want to annoy you.” The man had been working more lately and you were feeling the effects of the extra time spent away from him.

He kisses your cheek and tightens his hold on you, “don’t ever think you annoy me baby. I love you in every way possible. Next time just talk to me.”

✨

Thoughts of a Slutty Virgin - 🧚🏽‍♀️

This was longer than I expected. Ending was bleh. Tbh i didn't even know what was gone happen next

ENJOY!

Pixie's Masterlist

#aot smut #onyankopon smut #onyankopon x black reader #onyankopon x black!reader #onyankopon x black reader smut #black reader smut #aot x black reader #aot x black reader smut

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reiderwriter · 8 months

Text

♦️There Are No Words Left to Speak ♦️

Chapter 5 of That's What You Get

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Pairing: Spencer Reid X Fem Reader

Summary: In a panic, you spill your guts to Penelope and receive some much needed advice before your "date" with Reid.

Warnings: None!!

A/N: This one is 4k words long because I absolutely could not help myself 😭 I've has a lot of messages and asks about this series lately, and it's been really encouraging to see! If you like this chapter, please comment or reblog and let me know or come chat with me in my inbox! Happy Reading!!

You can find my masterlist here and the series masterlist here.

"Penelope, I fucked up and I need your advice," you screamed into the room as soon as the door slammed open, startling the other woman as she threw her phone up in surprise.

"Jesus, Y/N, you're lucky I didn't reach for the all too full can of pepper spray I store in here, oh my god."

"I'm sorry, Pen, I'm just, I'm kinda freaking out, and I need your help."

"Are we going to need wine, or are we going to need ice cream and a chick flick? What kind of problem are we talking here?" she asked from her place at the desk.

"I married Spencer in Vegas." You said and then clamped your hand over your mouth as you finally let the pressure of the weekends mess seep out of you now that you'd shared your secret.

"Oh my god, both, we'll do both. We need both, let's go, let's go now."

–X–

Penelope drove the two of you home, immediately moving into a mothering role as soon as the words left your mouth, and she could see your impending implosion. You were grateful that she didn’t ask you any further questions as you made your way back to her apartment, just turning on the radio to a channel playing 90s pop hits and simply letting you calm down through the fun music.

When you finally got through her door, she let you get comfortable and then immediately came back with all the things she promised.

“Okay, I know you’re more a rose girl, but all I have is this really nice white that Derek got me for my last birthday and half a bottle of tequila, and I think it’s better for the both of us if we don’t open the tequila. Also, I have chocolate, cookie dough ice cream, and tissues, and When Harry Met Sally on DVD, I'm ready to be plugged in and played as soon as you say the word.”

“Penelope, we do not tell you how brilliant you are as often as we should.”

“While that is true, I’m trying my best not to immediately cave and ask you to spill, so can we please sing my praises after you explain what you mean by saying you married Spencer.”

“God, Penelope, I don’t know what happened,” you let your head hang in your hands and she immediately moved to sit closer to you, rubbing a hand over your back and getting the tissues ready.

“We went out drinking, and my mom got in my head earlier in that call I took, and I don’t remember anything and then I woke up and we were in bed together and-” you rambled out, lifting your head up as you tried to explain, but she cut you off quickly there.

“You were in bed together? Did you… you know, bump uglies with Spencer? Do the old in n’ out? Sorry, I’m making this worse, I’ll shut up now,” she said, but you laughed at her enthusiasm, and you felt more of the weekend’s tension leave your body. You knew that you had made the right decision coming to Penelope with this. She always knew how to make you feel better.

“I don’t know, but it looks like it. TMI but-”

“Hold on, I don’t think I want to know what the Good Doctor is like in bed.” She visibly shuddered, and you let out another shaky laugh.

“Well considering I remember none of it, you’d be hard pressed to get those details from me. I did wake up handcuffed to the bed, though.”

“Shut the front door, no you did not!” Penelope’s jaw dropped. “Oh god, I’m almost morbidly curious, but I don’t want to open that can of worms. Sorry, please continue.”

You took a swig of the wine she poured you and relaxed a bit further into her couch, pulling your legs up under you to find a more comfortable position as you told the rest of your story to Penelope, gaining more confidence with each of her reactions to what you told her.

“So, now we just need to track down our two witnesses and get the marriage quietly annulled, and we can forget it ever happened.” You could hear the frown in your voice before you realised you were making that kind of expression, and from Penelope’s reaction, you could see that she’d noticed too.

“Oh.. oh, I know that look. You don’t want the annulment, do you?”

“Yes! I mean, no! Look, I really don’t know how to answer that right now, it’s just…” you trailed off, and Penelope silently filled your wine glass again, not saying anything and letting you come around at your own pace.

“Earlier today, after we told Rossi, and before I came running to you, he… he kissed my forehead, and he called me Mrs. Reid, and I really liked it. And I didn’t think about it before, but Reid is nice, and he is good, and he is obviously really smart, and, god he’d be a great dad, and he took care of me yesterday and today… Penelope, I think I have a crush on my husband.” You gasped out, feeling the weight of your revelation as it hit you straight in the gut.

“But we talked about it and we’re getting an annulment and now it’s like I fucked up before I really got the chance to let it go anywhere, and what if it’s a mistake? What if I made the world’s greatest fuck up and married a great man in Vegas and then threw it all away a week later?” you raked your hand through your hair quickly, trying to ignore the tears forming quickly in your eyes.

“Oh my god, sweetie, it’s going to be okay… You’re going to have to trust me when I tell you that it’s going to be okay…” she patted you on the back and you let the tears fall down a bit, quickly dabbing them away with the now balled up tissue in your hand.

“I don’t know if I can, Pen…” you tried to smile up at her, but you could feel your lips wobbling and you let your head hang again before you could let out a choked sob.

“No, nonononoonono, listen to me… Okay, promise you won’t hate me after I say this?” She said, squishing your cheeks between her hands as she made you look up into her eyes.

“I pwomise,” you sniffed out, voice muffled by her strong grip. She let you go then, content that she had your attention.

“I know for a fact that the boy is as infatuated with you as you are with him because… because I saw you two.” She stopped there to watch your reaction, but you froze, so she continued.

“You… you called me from wherever you guys were out in Vegas, mumbled some words over the phone and then sent me a picture of a brochure with an address on it, and then when I turned up it was a wedding chapel and you were getting married.” She winced out those last words, and you gasped at the confession.

“You were one of the witnesses! Penelope!” You pointed an accusatory finger at her, but it was half-hearted. You knew that you were stubborn enough while sober. You certainly wouldn’t have been persuaded out of something you obviously wanted while blackout drunk.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry, but you guys were just too cute! He was giving you all these small kisses on your forehead and on your cheeks, and you looked like innocent kids giddy and high on love, and I didn’t want to bring you back down to earth. You looked so happy, and I do not make it a habit to get in the way of my friends’ happiness.”

“Penelope, why didn’t you say anything?” You groan out, sounding a bit like a petulant teenager who has just discovered her mom threw out a shirt she hadn’t worn in years.

“I wanted to, but I was told not to…” she winced away. “And before you ask, I won’t tell you who else was there! Just know it was someone else who also loves both of you and would’ve pulled you two out of there. No questions asked if they thought you were making a stupid decision!”

You let the revelations sink in, one by one. Penelope was there. Reid couldn’t keep his lips off of you. The other witness thought you two were good together. It almost didn’t surprise you when you started giggling, finding humour in the situation at least.

“Oh my god, Penelope, I got married in Vegas to my coworker. And I think I’m in love with him now.” You were in a fit of giggles now, and Penelope hesitantly joined in at first.

“Yeah, I suppose it is funny when you put it that way.”

“God, what am I going to do? How am I going to face him from now on?” You pulled yourself together again and faced Penelope again, hoping that she would have actual answers for your very rhetorical question.

“Well, at least we have a couple of days off now. You don’t have to see him again until we go to work.”

“No, we have a date tomorrow,” you said matter-of-factly. “Appointment, really, he’s reading some books on alcohol induced memory loss tonight, and then I’m going over to his place to see if any of it can help us fill in the blanks.”

“Oh god, you’re going to talk books with Reid. That’s practically as romantic as it gets for him. No wonder he wifed you up.” You playfully kicked her leg, and she laughed again. “Okay, so no avoidance, okay. Maybe you could put the moves on him? Try to recreate that scene with the handcuffs. Who knows what might happen.” She wiggled her eyebrows at you then, and you did your best not to once again be overcome by a fit of giggles.

“Okay, enough of my romantic problems. I was promised When Harry Met Sally and that ice cream has probably melted, so let’s get to it.”

–X–

You braced yourself at the apartment door as you psyched yourself up to knock. As promised, you’d been greeted in the morning by a text from Spencer with his address and a proposed time to meet. He’d suggested 5pm, and you’d agreed, but here you were 20 minutes early, probably looking overdressed and over eager to spend time with your coworker/ husband/ soon to be former husband, maybe.

You’d left Penelope’s apartment that morning, having had an impromptu sleepover, happy that you’d at least confirmed your own feelings. You’d taken a taxi to collect your car, then spent the rest of your time at home overthinking and overpreparing.

You’d put on a dress and some make-up, and you were almost regretting the decision now you were on his doorstep, wondering what he’d think. You worked one of the toughest jobs in the world together, and you knew that he’d seen you completely black and blue after going blow for blow with unsubs in the past. Would he think this sudden effort was weird? You tried not to pace, knowing that your footsteps in the hall would alert him to your presence, but you couldn’t bring yourself to knock just yet.

You checked your phone again. 4:45. You couldn’t spend another fifteen minutes out here overthinking, so you finally just pushed ahead and knocked. Almost as if he had been waiting on the other side of the door this entire time, Reid answered immediately, not even letting you get a third rap in before he was there standing in front of you.

“Hi,” you said, standing there awkwardly with your hand still up, ready to knock again.

“Hey,” he replied, smiling at you.

You felt his eyes trail down your body, taking in your appearance. The dress you’d chosen wasn’t particularly special, just a mid-length tiered dress with bow straps. The weather was getting chillier so you’d layered it over a plain turtleneck, enjoying the added bonus of not having to conceal down your neck to mask the love bites he’d lavished upon you only a few nights prior.

You looked at him as well, and you were pleasantly surprised by his casual wear. He was more dressed down than he was in the office, but not by much. He was still wearing slacks, and a button down shirt as well, but he’d thrown a beaten up CalTech sweater over the top of them, and he looked so cosy you wanted to bury your head in his chest. He was wearing his glasses, and you were so thankful for that, as you forgot how well they suited him, fitting him perfectly.

“You’re early.” He said, finally breaking the silence between the two of you, drawing you out of the trance he’d kept you in while you took in the sight of him.

“Yeah, I guess I just overestimated how long it was going to take to get here. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s great, totally fine. Come in.” He moved his body to the side slightly so you could enter the door, but kept his outer arm pressed against the door so you had to duck under it, brushing past him as you went. The small contact made your entire body buzz, your heartrate picking up as you willed yourself to act natural.

“The food should be here any minute.” He smiled as he followed you back into his apartment. “I wanted it to arrive before you got here so I could surprise you.” You turned around to face him, and you could hear the bashfulness in his voice as he made the admission.

“Sorry for ruining the surprise,” you smiled up at him. “What did you order?”

“I remembered you mentioned that Korean streetfood place a while back that does those spicy rice cakes and kimbap rolls, so I got us some of that. Is that okay?”

“Sounds perfect.” You were touched that he even remembered the conversation when you yourself couldn’t even think of when it might have happened. He turned and walked further into the apartment, and you followed him this time, finally looking around and taking it all in.

The walls were obviously lined with bookshelves, and there were books laying around in piles everywhere. The walls were painted a dark colour, which made the space feel calming, almost more intimate, and sunlight was streaming in from the open window on the back wall.

“Sorry, it’s not much. Take a seat wherever, and I’ll grab those books I was talking about.”

You took a seat on the couch and watched him trail around the room, picking up books from several shelves and stacks.

“Okay, this is all of them. So the main takeaway is that it usually takes two weeks to fully recover memories from alcohol induced blackouts.” He explained, bringing you a stack at least eight books high.

“Spencer, did you read all of these last night?” You asked.

“Yeah, I said I would, I thought it would help.”

“Spencer,” you took his hand into yours as he set the books on the floor and flopped down to the couch beside you. “I really appreciate you putting in all this effort to help us, but you could’ve just come home and relaxed, you know. Our case was long and tough, and now all of this, you deserve a break.” You stroked your thumb over the back of his hand, trying to make the gesture calm and reassuring.

“I know, I wanted to do this. I want to remember what happened between us,” he whispered the words softly, not needing to fill the space with much sound as you’d crept closer and closer together since he’d returned.

“So, uh, two weeks then, is that it, we just have to wait for the memories to return?” you asked quietly, letting go of the small moment you’d shared to get back to the task at hand.

“It seemed so, but there are some other more general tips we could implement that could help us piece together what happened. We might at least be able to figure out who our witnesses were.”

You felt almost guilty then, but you kept your mouth shut. You’d decided the night before that you wouldn’t tell Reid about Penelope. At least not yet. You wanted the time first to see if he could possibly feel the same way about you before you worked up the courage to let him in on what you had learnt.

“Yeah, I’m open to try anything. Within reason, that is.”

“Great! I was thinking at first that maybe we could do a cognitive interview, but as we only have each other to work with, I thought that might make some of our answers more biased and not garner effective results. But we could still try to jog our memories by working out some of the same emotions, doing some things we could have done that night, and seeing if any of it rings a bell?”

“Some of the things we did that night?”

“Yeah,” he repled.

“Like… like make out or get handcuffed to a bed?” You enjoyed watching the flush creep up his neck, and his eyes go wide as he struggled to backtrack on that one.

“No, no! I mean, unless you want to, or you think it would help?” It was your turn to be left speechless, your mouth suddenly not complying with your brain as you begged yourself to respond somehow. All you could muster was a glance down at his lips that lingered a bit too long, your body slowly creeping forward.

He noticed and moved closer towards you as well, letting his hand grasp your waist as you got caught in his atmosphere.

“It’s worth a try, right? To regain our memories.” He supplied you with the words, letting you stay silent as your lips grew closer and closer together, seconds away from taking your breath away forever.

A loud rap at the door and a shout of “delivery” had the two of you suddenly bouncing away from each other, Reid scrambling to the door to collect the food, while you stood up awkwardly and tried to pretend there was something really interesting on his bookshelf that had caught your attention all of a sudden.

For the Nth time in so many days, you found yourself trying to convince your heart to beat a little quieter, and you managed to get yourself under control as he returned with the food.

“I’m sorry, I lost track of time…” he trailed off as you nodded, joining him back at the couch as he began unpacking the food.

“It’s totally fine, we should eat anyways, trust me when I say this stuff doesn’t taste even half as good cold.” You smiled at him, but it didn’t go quite to your eyes. You really wanted to kiss him, and you were really doing your best to control your disappointment, not wanting to show off how desperate for him you were.

“Well, you’re in luck, because you now get to witness one of my only flaws,” he said, fishing out two sets of chopsticks from the delivery bag. “I am absolutely terrible with chopsticks.”

You giggled at him and grabbed the pair he offered you, letting out a dramatic fake gasp. “And you only tell me after we get married? That’s it, I want a divorce,” you laugh, and the two of you settle down into a comfortable silence as you begin your meal.

–X–

Two hours later, and you’re still no closer to locking lips with the man than you were earlier. You’d had a nice time talking with him over the food, both of you sitting like kids on the floor as you ate over his coffee table. He’d told you about a Korean film festival he’d attended a few years back, one of many international film festivals he’d been to, and you sat and listened, in awe of the way his eyes lit up when he talked about something that excited him. You hoped that one day, he’d talk about you in that same way.

You helped him clean up and settled back onto the couch, where he’d mentioned having a copy of one of the films that had since been subtitled, and you ended up in another movie marathon.

The movie was good, but his presence next to you was even better. He’d stretched out his arms on the couch behind you, letting you snuggle up into his side as you pulled your legs up and under you, screwing yourself up in a comfortable little ball, burrowing into him for warmth. He was a fire beside you, and you wished you were bold enough to push further into him, to drag your hands across his skin and feel even more of him, continuing the exploration from earlier. But you weren’t, and, honestly, you were tired, so you let yourself sit peacefully beside him, touching but not much, as you were lulled to sleep by the sounds of the TV.

It was pitch black outside when you finally cracked your eyes open again, but he was still there next to you on the couch. The movie had been turned off, and so had the TV, and there was a blanket now wrapped around your legs, so he had obviously moved, but he had also come back to you. You shifted your head up to look at him and smiled. He’d picked up another book from who knows what shelf and was reading slowly so as not to wake you with the movements of his hand as he traced down the page. Your head had moved from his chest to his lap, and he held the book off to the side in one hand, his other resting protectively over your waist. He was so engrossed by his book that he hadn’t even realised you’d moved and that you were awake until you spoke to him.

“Spencer? What time is it?” you asked, your voice thick with sleep.

“It’s 11:30. You fell asleep during the movie and you looked like you could use the sleep.”

“Wow, what a way to tell a girl she doesn’t look so good,” you laughed at him as he pouted down at you.

“I didn’t mean that. Y/N, you look beautiful today. You look beautiful everyday.”

You lifted yourself up from his lap, one hand braced on either side of his legs on the couch as you bought yourself eye-to-eye with him, your chests close enough to touch if you took a big breath in. Instead, yours were shallow as you looked up at him through heavy eyes.

“Thank you, Spencer.” You whispered, silently begging him to close the space between the two of you. But he didn’t, instead, clearing his throat and putting his book down, breaking your eye contact.

“I should be getting home now. It’s pretty late.” You said, standing up from the couch. He followed you up and around as you started collecting your things and organising the space you’d occupied.

“Y/N it’s late, and you’re tired. I can’t let you drive home like that. An estimated 30% of road accidents occur due to sleep deficiency, you know.”

“It’s fine, I don’t want to get a taxi and just leave my car here and then have to come back in the morning. I’ll be fine driving,” you said, but he softly took the keys out of your hands as you grabbed them from your bag.

“Stay here tonight.” He said, less of a suggestion than an already established fact. You looked up at him and knew there was no changing his mind, but he continued anyway.

“I have a spare toothbrush and some old clothes you can probably use as pajamas, and it’s not like we haven’t shared a bed before. Maybe…maybe waking up next to each other again will help jog our memories, too. We only have until the end of the week, right?”

He looked at you expectantly, and you let out a little sigh and nodded your head, letting him guide you away to the bedroom and back into sleeping in his arms.

--×--

🏷 @w-windy @multifandom-on-the-side @reidandhotchsgirl @babybluecakes @hugyourlungs @prentissesredtanktop @reidscaffeine @bethanyhaas01 @average-sunflower @academiareid @sailortongue @daddy-dotcom @anniewhalelover @abbyshmaby @isabel-ffl-xoxo @sujan39 @frxcless @bluestuesday @busy-buzzing @breadbrobin @maxinehufflepuffprincess @l0v3cam @booksandwonderlands @myescapefromthislife @ferrjulie @scoobydoopoo @aelinismyqueen @littlesingingbean @jamiemuscatosslut @xohoneybun @anchovy89freya @dysphoricsanity @ghostheartbeat @rebloggiest-reblogger @wishyoudaskme @imawhoreforu @academiacoffeelover @softservepunk @andiebeaword @r-3dlips @wakaladjarin @ratbastardchild @mcira @danika1994 @stargurl99 @whovianwholikesgirls @its-not-too-late-for-coffee @doriantomybasil @shqwqrma @shits8gigs

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x oc #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid series #that's what you get

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faintedlcve · 9 months

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Hi! Could I please request a FIC abt Mattheo or Theodore (I’m in love with them both) and the reader always picks her hangnails (to fidget bc she is on the spectrum and has adhd) and they get her to stop by alway holding her hands and she goes to his quidditch game? (I love your fics sm)

Good luck charm

Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x fem!reader

Warnings: like none? do tell if I missed any xx

Summary: (just like read the request I cba)

A/n: thanks for the request and thank you SO much for the compliment💞! Sorry for the wait xx I wrote it about mattheo because I'm in my mattheo era (plus I feel like theo wouldn't be the sporty type) but I will write a Theodore version as well if you're okay with waiting xx I also happen to have ADHD lol so I just related the story to myself. English isn't my first language so there might be mistakes xx not proof read. I don't love it but I don't hate it either xx hope you like it x

reblogs are appreciated xx

You sat down in Snape's potion class after you got scolded for being 5 minutes late. His classes were SO boring. Your ADHD didn't help either. You grabbed your quill and started to doodle but were shortly stopped by Snape shouting at you for the second time in a 15 minute span.

You rolled your eyes and looked for something to fiddle with. I mean, how could it be your fault that you had ADHD? Was it really that wrong that you needed to fiddle with something to concentrate? Snape definitely made it seem like a sin.

You noticed a hangnail on your finger and started to pick on that. Snape could take that away from you. I mean, was he going to cut off your fingers? As you pulled on the hangnail, you felt a little sting and you knew if your bare flesh made contact with even a drop of water, it would burn. This wasn't avoidable either especially since you were in potions. But you could worry about that later. As long as you could concentrate.

"You need to stop doing that. It looks painful. Plus it isn't healthy." Mattheo comments as be places his hand on yours. It's a comforting feeling but you feel uneasy, looking for something else to fiddle with.

"but I can't! I have ADHD."

"There's got to be better ways to cope."

"there's nothing else to fiddle with"

"Here." He slips one of his rings off his fingers and hands it to you.

"are you sure" you ask.

"yes love." He replies.

And so you fiddle with his silver ring the rest of the lesson but find it hard to with him holding one of your hand captive. You wanted to ask to move it, but you didn't want him to feel upset plus you kinda liked the feeling of his warm hand on your freezing cold one.

*＊✿❀　❀✿＊**＊✿❀　❀✿＊**＊✿❀　❀✿＊*

You were excited for the quidditch match, Slytherin against Gryffindor. You walked up to Pansy, Theodore and Blaise, your group of friends, as you spotted then among the crowd which was dripping with anticipation.

As the game started, you found yourself searching for a particular brown, curly haired boy.

As you spotted him, aiming to score, you felt yourself blushing. As he scored half of the crowd cheered in excitement, and the other half groaned in frustration. As you locked eyes with the brunette boy, you caught hun winning at you which made you turn even more red than you already were if that was possible.

The game ended with Slytherin being victorious (which was a first).

After the game you walked up to Mattheo to congratulate him.

"I've never been to a quidditch match before but I heard this was Slytherin's first victory against Gryffindor."

"Guess you are a good luck charm." He smiled at you.

You blushed. Something about that comment felt genuine, like it was more than just a joke.

"Ah, is that so? You were amazing out there by the way."

"Only for you princess." He winked at you. "I assumed you were awestruck by me. I caught you staring." he grinned.

You blushed as you started to fiddle with your hangnail again. You felt a comforting hand on yours. Mattheo's hand.

"Now now love. We talked about this. Use my rings instead."

You felt nice that Mattheo cared about you. You smiled at him, trying to keep your composure. You felt like kissing him right there and then but you didn't.

Your friends walked up to Mattheo and congratulated him for the win, snapping you out of your daydream about the brunette boy who, at this very moment, was holding your hand.

"You could say we had a good luck charm." He winked at you.

You chuckled at the statement. Girlfriend had a better ring to it, but for now you settled for 'A good luck charm.'

#mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheoxreader #mattheo riddle #mattheo x y/n #mattheo x you #harry potter #harry potter imagine #mattheo riddle x y/n #mattheo riddle angst #marcus lopez imagine #marcus lopez x reader #marcus lopez arguello #marcus lopez

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laurzzz · 28 days

Text

Robo-Boyfriends AU (My Sona Version) - Effort

Woe word-less comic be upon ye! I think it's very fitting with my sona being mouthless LMAO. I haven't worked on RBAU in a short while so take this thingy before I continue to work on MO again :thumbsup::thumbsup:

Explanation/vent under the cut (it's VERY long, so know you've been warned)

I'm tired. I'm tired of pretending it doesn't affect me at all. I'm tired of not wanting to express genuine frustration on my blog. I've been trying my best to keep my blog and every other platform I have as a place of escape for myself. I want it to only be filled with mostly good and optimistic things. I already get enough crap and more in my private life, I don't want to see reminders of them in places where I want to escape. Which is why I've been pretending to not see the numbers, that I don't feel under appreciated, that I don't vent as much when I want to or when I do I'm quick to delete them.

I know that many artists online go through this and have expressed their frustration on this experience-- where they put in so much effort and time on their works and they barely get any feedback or interactions or when they do get feedback it's often on the works they don't even put that much effort in. I love RBAU and Cloud Nine.. they're my AUs that basically gained the most traction here but the time and effort I gave to making those comics and random pieces of gradient-themed drawings don't even compare to the rendered pieces or the animated works I've made for them.

As much as I appreciate the reblogs and comments on the posts that reached so many people, I often wonder why it's always the works that I didn't put my all into. It makes me feel discouraged... not in continuing to draw or make creative work, but to actually put in more effort. But if I'd do that--stop putting in more effort-- then I would only make myself even more miserable as I don't like stagnation. I hate stagnation. I hate getting bored of the things that mean so much to me. Sharing my art and improving on it means too much to me.

But it's weird because I tend to observe the interactions with other blogs. They look to put in so much effort and make such beautiful rendered pieces that I adore and yet they are appreciated as deserved. While there are artists who make "shitposts" (their words) who also gain so much traction and appreciation. This observation makes the voices in my brain start correlating the quality of my work to the interactions. If I'm being completely transparent, I get these thoughts a lot. But I also don't believe them. I don't want to believe them.

Before anyone starts saying "ohhh you shouldn't attach your appreciation of your work from external factors" etc etc-- I KNOW. I am FULLY aware. I'm completely aware and have rationalized this situation over and over. That this is just how the internet goes. That these are factors I don't have control over. That my work is gold and it doesn't have to be determined as such by numbers. That someday the people who appreciate my works will find me. I. Know.

Still, knowing these things doesn't make the feelings disappear. It's like I want to be mad, and cry at the same time but also understand that I just can't really do anything about this but let it be. It's as if the more I care about a project, the less likely people will. I don't want to pretend like I don't care about a project just for it to be appreciated. But I also don't want to feel as if I'm not getting as much appreciation or attention that I think my work deserves.

I've been experimenting with my works and how I post them here on Tumblr and on YT since last year. The ones that are shitposts are seriously what gets more attention AHAHAHA I am laughing with frustration. Look, I love making memes and poking fun with characters as much as the next viewer and artist but by god. I can't just keep churning out funny haha low substance stuff in exchange for interactions. That's not the kind of artist that I am. I like making things that has lore; that has depth to them. Like how I tend to make lore heavy AUs right after getting my silly, lighthearted works blow up just to remind myself that the relationship I have with my works will not grow if I keep chasing after the interactions, the numbers by prioritizing quantity over quality.

Or maybe people just don't like my ideas? I guess that's a possibility too. Maybe my ideas just don't resonate with people enough. It's not "consumable" enough. Or maybe they don't like my art/writing/animation style. Yet more factors that's out of my control. But I also get told that people like my art, my writings, my animations. And they mean so, so much to me. But it just doesn't add up sometimes, y'know? If people like my work and stick around because they like my art no matter the fandom then why don't I see it? Thoughts like these make me feel so ungrateful actually.

I'm sure there are many people who look up to me as an artist and think how "popular" I am. I've been told this so many times. And yet, I don't feel either of those as strongly. Hell, even as I type this long vent out, I feel like people will not even care. Or worse. Perhaps they may think I'm focusing on the wrong things or think I'm being insecure and jealous of other people's well-deserved appreciation from others.

For the record, I am not. I think every single (actual, not AI) artists put in so much effort and love to their own works most of the time and if they get appreciation for it then I'm sure as hell that they've been seeking for it too and now that they're getting it and it's there then they should bask in it and rejoice. They really should.

Sigh. This is getting far too long. I'll stop here. I hope my words and my thoughts came out clearly. I'm writing this out late at night. Don't worry, I'll still be putting in the effort I've been putting in lately. I'm still going to work on MO, and give my best to make Assassin Eclipse's design to be as on par with Assassins Sun and Moon. I'm still going to write and continue the lore in the fic. I'm still going to animate the lore-heavy Welcome Home animation I've been working on slowly day by day. I just wanted to let this all out. Venting it to my friends just seem to not be enough. I gotta express it where people can see it. I think this is just my last straw too. I've been holding out for so long and 2024 really hasn't been that kind to me lately that I just can't anymore.

Anyway, the next post will be much lighter, I promise.

#sorry i focused too much on my dca related works but this also applies to all the other fandom stuff ive created on here and on YT #oh also #thank you and shout out to xit #i was having doubts on posting this before i sleep tonight #but her recent answered ask unintentionally gave me courage #hey xit! if you see this i think youre cool #robo-boyfriends au #but with my sona instead of y/n #dca fandom #fnaf sun #fnaf sundrop #fnaf daycare attendant #laursdraws #cw vent

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thetriumphantpanda · 7 months

Text

i work from nine to five; hey hell, i pay the price | Marcus Pike

Summary | You use the office halloween party as a way to prove you can push yourself out of your comfort zone. You didn't expect that to mean that the apple of your eye, Marcus Pike, would take an interest in you.

Pairing | Marcus Pike x Plus Size F!Reader

Word Count | 4.4K

Warnings | Explicit smut, workplace 'romance', negative talk about bodies, body issues, plus size reader, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected PiV sex, dirty talk, mention of food and alcohol, halloween vibes, costumes, pet names, but nothing else.

Authors Note | I told myself I wasn't going to do halloween writing, and then I had a very vivid image of Marcus Pike bending me over his desk at a work party.... So I did some halloween writing. As a woman who lives life in a bigger body, this one goes out to everyone else who has felt the way reader has felt. These are MY OWN experiences, attitudes I've had given to me, and given to myself, they aren't universal, we all feel differently about ourselves, but if you've ever been made to feel less than because of the way you look, just know I see you and that Marcus Pike would absolutely take you apart regardless of how thick your thighs are. If you liked this, please consider supporting me through my Ko-Fi.

Divider by @saradika

Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi

You tug at your skirt a little, trying to pull it down over your thighs. It seemed like a good idea at the time, to choose something skimpy for the office Halloween party. A way to challenge yourself, finally start to work through the years of bullying at school, and the off-hand comments from your almond-mom who had always told you things like, ‘you could stand to lose a few pounds’, or ‘surely a salad would be a better idea?’.

It had been such a relief when you’d gotten this job two years ago, finally earning enough on an FBI salary to move out of your family home and into your own space. A space where you weren’t judged for how many fries you had on your plate, or how the pair of trousers you’d chosen to wear made your belly look. It had been good for you, and ever since, you’d been trying your best to challenge yourself to do things you never thought you’d ever have the confidence to do.

Things like standing in the office, in a pair of fishnet tights, with a skirt so short that if you bent over, Dave from Finance would get a complete eyeful. Looking around though, you couldn’t help feel like it had been a terrible idea. Amy from HR looked absolutely phenomenal in her devil outfit – a red bodycon dress that looked like it had been painted on, showing not a single imperfection on her body – and Jessica, who worked reception, in a Catwoman jumpsuit that hugged her figure perfectly. You don’t think it would ever go away, the comparing yourself to everyone else, even though you knew that Amy and Jessica would totally have their own insecurities about things.

You were trying to make yourself at small as possible, crowding yourself into the corner of the room, hand clutched around a plastic cup full of ‘spooky punch’, that Hannah, the office manager had put together, which comprised of mostly vodka, some orange juice and what looked like a whole bottle of green food coloring, with some eyeball candy floating around in it. She’d put together a Halloween playlist, which was currently blasting The Monster Mash at a decibel you think should be illegal, and everyone had contributed to her spooky buffet, which was just normal food cut into shapes – like your addition of frozen pizza that you’d cut out with a ghost-shaped cookie cutter. You know you should go and mingle. Adam, on your team has already tried twice to get you to join their little group, so you relent, and walk over, giving everyone a warm smile. It’s all going well, until Alison, nods her head in your direction and stats speaking.

“Did you work late?” She asks, to which you shake your head.

“No, why?”

“Oh,” She grimaces, “I just didn’t think you’d dressed up, is all.”

And you know it’s mainly because she’s oblivious to mostly everything, but it smarts. Sure, the orange turtleneck is something you’d worn to work before, as are the black platform heels, but the skirt that ghosts the bottom of your ass and the fishnet tights that are still probably one size too small are not something you usually wear, nor are the fake glasses, with thick black frames, or the fucking magnifying glass you’re clutching. You sigh, make your excuses and walk over to the buffet table, picking up one of the slices of pizza you’d brought. Once you’ve eaten that, you reach for one of the cupcakes at the back of the table. It’s iced like a pumpkin and the cake looks to be chocolate, which is your favourite. You’re peeling off the wrapper and about to take a bite when someone interrupts you.

“They’re delicious.”

You’d recognize that voice anywhere. Marcus Pike. Head of Department. Not your boss, but your boss’ boss, and the most beautiful man you think you’d ever laid eyes on. You’d sat in on meetings that he chaired, supposed to be taking notes but instead focused entirely on him and how he commanded the room. The way he talked with his hands, and how much you wish you could have him run those over your thighs. Or the way he would chew on his bottom lip when he was concentrating, wondering whether he’d like it if you did that if he were to ever kiss you.

“Oh.” You exhale softly, suddenly uber aware of the fact he’s probably just watched you eat the ghost-shaped pizza, and now, not a minute later, getting ready to bite into the cupcake, you go to set it down on the table, but he stops you, hand gently holding onto your wrist.

“Please,” He says softly, “I made them, so I need the ego boost.”

You smile a little, finally meeting his eyes, “You just said they were delicious, what do you need my opinion for?”

“I remember the raspberry muffins you made last week,” He smirks a little, “And the apple turnovers the week before those, and everything else you bring in, I need to know what the office star baker thinks about my effort.”

You’re going to refuse, say you’re already full, despite the pizza being the first thing you’d eaten that evening, that you’ll take it home with you and report back on Monday, but his beautiful brown eyes are soft, almost pleading, so you sigh, peel the rest of the wrapper off and take a bite. It’s actually delicious. He’s put some kind of orange flavouring in the icing, and the cake itself is really good.

“You were right,” You smile, “It is delicious.”

He smiles, like he’s won a prize and it makes you feel a bit fuzzy inside, that this man next to you has been affected by your praise.

“Great costume, by the way.” He compliments, and you don’t miss the way his eyes trail over your body.

“You mean you don’t think I ran out of time and came in my office clothes?” You tease.

“You’d wear that skirt to the office?” He’s smirking at you, and also offers you a wink, which has your hand dropping to the table, holding yourself up, why on earth was Marcus Pike flirting with you? “It’s good, Velma, right?” He motions to the magnifying glass abandoned on the table.

You chuckle a little, “First prize, got it first time,” You then take a moment to take in his costume, he’s wearing a brown jacket over one of his usual shirts, a brown satchel is draped across his body and he’s got a hat on, but it’s the whip that really gives him away, “Indiana Jones?” You say quietly.

“The one and only.” He smiles, opening his arms a little.

You think it must be the amount of vodka that Hannah put in the punch, but even so, your next question shocks you, “Do I ask where you got the whip from?”

He looks around dramatically, “Just checking Amy from HR is out of earshot,” Then he leans in a little closer, “It’s from my own personal collection.”

You reach your hand out, letting your fingers run over the material where the handle is holstered in his pocket. It feels expensive, although it’s not like you have much experience with them to pass judgement on what’s expensive and what isn’t.

“Feels expensive,” You hum, “Guess that head of department salary has to get spent on something.”

He reaches down and takes your hand in his gently, running soft circles over the skin on the back of your hand, “You really do look lovely tonight,” He speaks softly, “Enjoy the rest of the evening.”

And then as quickly as he was stood in front of you, he’s gone. You let out a breath that you didn’t realise you’d been holding in, focusing on the way your chest is heaving and you can feel your pulse in your head. You pick up your plastic cup and down the liquid that’s left in the bottom, wincing at the strength of the vodka, then deciding you need a top up.

You mill about for a little bit longer, but still feel like a bit of a spare part. You’ve shown your face, spoken to everyone you should have, and now there’s a glass of wine and a bubble bath with your name on it back home. You pick up your coat from the back of a random office chair, grab your bag from your own desk, and sneak out as quietly as you can. You’re halfway down the hall, almost to the elevator, when you hear a voice from behind you.

“Running away?”

You turn around, Marcus Pike is leaning against the doorframe to his office. He’s taken the satchel off, and the whip is no longer in his pocket. He’s crossed one ankle over the other, arms crossed over his chest.

“Feeling a little like a spare part,” You shrug, “And there’s a glass of wine calling my name at home.”

He nods in understanding, “You drink whiskey?” He asks.

“If I have to.” You answer back.

“Well, how about you stay and have one with me,” He offers, “Leave that wine for another day.”

You shift awkwardly from foot to foot, because why on earth would Marcus Pike want to have a drink with you? It feels like someone somewhere is having a good old laugh at your expense, but you feel your feet leading you towards him, brushing past him and into his office.

You’ve been in here a handful of times before, mainly to drop of reports and papers, and only once whilst he’s been there. It’s been a very professional relationship up until now, no flirting, nothing inappropriate. You drape your coat over the arm of the small couch he’s got there – you imagine he sleeps on it when he hasn’t got time to go home during crunch time of investigations. Your bag sits on the floor next to it.

He leaves the door open, giving you an out if you want it. He points to the couch, tells you to sit down, which you do, pulling once again at the tiny skirt, trying to cover the way the skin of your thighs bulge through the holes of the fishnet tights, ultimately failing, as Marcus reaches into one of the drawers of his desk, pulling out two crystal tumblers and a bottle of whiskey. He fills them both equally, handing one to you, but he doesn’t sit next to you, he just leans against the edge of his desk.

“I always thought it was a myth,” You muse, “Agents with whiskey in their desks.”

He smiles at you, “It’s in there for big wins,” He explains, “Cracking cases and that kind of stuff.”

You nod your head, taking a small sip of your drink, wincing as it drags down your throat, “What’s tonight’s big win?” You ask, fluttering your eyelashes and then cringing a little at yourself.

“You looking that sinful.”

You’re taking a sip when he says it, so you end up spluttering quite unattractively at his words. Is he serious? You dab at the corners on your mouth, setting your glass down on the floor, “Sorry,” You mutter, “But are you for real?”

He smirks, “As real as you and I.”

He pushes himself off the desk, puts his drink down on it as he moves. He takes three wide strides until he’s stood in front of you. You look up from where you’re sat, hands folded in your lap. He reaches out, drags the fake glasses from your face, throws them absentmindedly onto the couch next to you. You’re breathing heavily as reaches out with one of his hands. The flat of his palm cupping your jaw, whilst his thumb traces along your bottom lip.

“Do you want me to close the door?” He asks, voice lower than you’ve ever known it.

You have no words, your tongue refusing to work, so you nod instead, because as much as you’re still thinking someone is going to come in and tell you you’re being pranked, you also want to know what he’s going to do next. He’s back to you in moments once he’s closed the door and turned the lock. The light above is harsh, but it’s needed, because the blinds are closed.

He's standing in front of you again, this time both his palms are cupping your cheeks, and he’s leaning down, ever so slowly, until his lips are a hairs breath from yours. God, you want him to push the last few millimeters and kiss you, but he’s stopped. Waiting. And you don’t want to break first. You’ve done it before, gone to kiss someone, and then felt them laugh just before you can, because why would they want to?

“You gonna kiss me, pretty lady?”

“I want you to kiss me first.” You admit on a shaky breath.

You’ve got your eyes closed, so you can’t read his eyes, look for the sense of regret in them, so it’s a shock when you feel his lips on yours. It’s so soft, barely there, before he’s pulling away, still close enough to feel his hot breath over your skin though.

“There,” His thumbs are moving across the skin of your cheeks, “Now you.”

So, you do. You reach your hand around to the back of his neck, pull him into you and really press your lips to his. His bottom lip slots between yours and you suck it gently into your mouth. You smile a little at the sound that comes from his throat, then he’s opening his mouth against yours and you’re following, doing exactly the same, letting his tongue behind your teeth as it melds with your own. His hands are dropping from your face, trailing down your shoulders. He leans forward into you a little, his hands under your arms to tug you up.

You drag your mouth from him to stand up, his hands dropping to your hips to guide you behind his desk. There are nerves bubbling under your skin because you know what he wants as he pressed your ass into the wood. He wants you to sit on it. To be fair to the department, it’s a sturdy looking desk, but the thought of the way it’s going to creak under your weight makes you want to crawl into a hole. Marcus doesn’t push though, just brings his mouth back to yours, letting his hands wander a little, dragging them back up your body to palm your tits through the layers you’re wearing.

“I think you did this on purpose,” He speaks against your mouth, “Like you knew this woman had always driven me wild.”

You don’t mean to, but it makes you laugh, “Don’t tell me Velma from Scooby-Doo was your sexual awakening?”

He laughs back, doesn’t confirm it, but doesn’t deny it either. He’s looking down your body, having pulled back a bit, “Fuck,” He mutters, “Every time I look at you, it gets better.”

“The magic of a slutty Halloween costume.” You shrug.

He nods his head, but speaks again, “It’s not just that though,” He’s speaking softly now, “I think you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, wandering around the office all the time, driving me mad.”

This would normally be the time that you’d try and fight against the compliments being thrown your way. Tell them they must be lying, or joke that they need to get their eyes tested. But somehow, it doesn’t feel like you should do that here. There’s something about Marcus that makes you think he wouldn’t lie, wouldn’t string you along this far just to have a laugh at your expense, so you don’t do it, for the first time in your life.

You reach up to his shirt, undo two of the buttons, “You know,” You hum, “I think exactly the same as you, with your whip or not.”

He breathes out, taking hold of your wrists to stop your movements, “Let me make you feel good?” He asks.

You meet his eyes, feeling heat rise across your face, but you nod anyway, because you’ve come this far, and you can already feel wetness pooling in your panties. He drags his hands down your body, grips your hips and forces you to sit on the edge of the desk, dropping to his knees in front of you. He’s looking you straight in the eyes, as he pushes the material of your skirt to gather at your waist. Your legs open further, and Marcus groans when your movement reveals the see-through black lace of your panties. It hadn’t felt right to dress as a sexy Velma and wear your normal underwear, is how you justify it.

You’re expecting him to tell you to lift up so he can drag your tights off you, but instead, he hooks a finger through the material at your groin and fucking rips them apart. It makes you gasp. You’d chide him for ruining them, but at this point you don’t care. They were cheap, and if it means you’re going to have his mouth on you quicker, then you’re not going to complain.

Marcus leans forwards, you can feel the heat of his breath splaying across the lace material, and then he drags his tongue across the length of your folds over the lace of your panties. Even with the material barrier between your skin and his mouth, you’re tipping your head back in pleasure, letting out a breath as he repeats his movements, dragging his fingers just behind his tongue on his last pass of movements. It’s not enough.

“Please, Marcus.” You beg quietly.

“What do you want, pretty lady?” He asks, looking up at you with angelic eyes, as if he couldn’t possibly think what it is you want from him.

“Your mouth.”

“You already have it.” He points out, proving his point by licking another stripe up your panties.

“Marcus,” You sigh, “Move the… fuck… move the damn material out of the way.”

He lets out a huff of amusement, “See,” He says, doing exactly as you ask, hooking his fingers under the material and moving it to the side, “All you had to do was ask.”

He doesn’t waste any more time now. Letting his tongue dip between your slick folds, dragging the wetness that’s pooled at your entrance up to your clit, where he flicks softly with the tip of his tongue. You feel his thumbs spreading the lips of your cunt, baring you to him so he can really start to work you up. He presses the flat of his tongue to your clit, working it gently as your hand settles into the curls on his head, anchoring him there. He’s doing all the things you love, moving between wide stripes of the flat of his tongue, and quick flicks with the tip, until your hips are grinding against his face and you’re biting down onto your bottom lip to keep quiet.

“You taste so fucking sweet, pretty lady,” He speaks against your skin, surprising you a little as he pushes not one, but two of his fingers into your soaked cunt, “Feel good?”

“Oh God,” You breathe out as he hooks his fingers inside you, pressing against a spot you had no idea even existed inside of you, “Don’t stop… don’t fucking stop.”

He doesn’t, the obedient man that he is. He starts dragging his fingers in and out of you, whilst his lips wrap around your clit, pulling it into his mouth, laving it with attention from his tongue, which sends you over the edge.

Your thighs are clenching around his head as your body convulses. All you want is to cry out, call his name into the room, but even though you can hear the music from the party down here, anyone could be walking past, and it would be just your luck that it would be Amy from HR. His mouth is working you through those aftershocks as your thighs ease the pressure around his head.

He's breathing as heavy as you are when he stands, slotting himself between your open legs. You can feel the hard length of him pressing against your silken center, as he dips his head to kiss you again, your taste intoxicating on his tongue.

“Can I fuck you?” He asks, almost desperately, “You gonna let me?”

“Please.” Is all you can get out, as he drags you off the desk, flipping you around so your front is pressed against the wood of the desk.

He’s got his hand on the nape of your neck, pressing you down. You can hear him undoing his belt, dragging the zipper of his jeans down. You shuffle a little, widening your stance as he takes his place behind you. You can feel him dragging his cock through your folds, gathering the slick he’s pulled from you, before he’s plunging into you in one go. It takes everything you have not to scream. He’s big. Stretching you like no-one has before and it feels so fucking good.

Marcus is still gripping the back of your neck as he starts moving, his other hand gripping the plush cheek of your ass, spreading you open even more as he slowly drags himself in and out of you. He’s going slowly, and you think that the way his breath is hitching in his throat means he’s struggling to keep his composure, so you decide to have a little fun.

When he’s pulled almost all the way out of you, you turn your head as much as you can with his hand resting there, looking over your shoulder at him as you wiggle your ass, slowly backing into him, letting your cunt suck him right back into you again.

“Baby, you can’t do that,” He pleads, his fingers digging into the skin of your ass, “Carry on like that and this will be over before it’s begun.”

“Don’t care,” You mutter, “Harder, please.”

He starts pounding into you now, the sound of his skin slapping against yours is obscene. You’re both trying as hard as possible to keep the moans and groans as quiet as possible, and you can’t help but wish he wants more, that he’ll take you home sometime, unwrap you and let you scream for him, but you decide to focus on the here and now.

“Touch yourself.” You hear demanded from behind you, “I want to feel you come on my cock.”

You snake your hand underneath you, pushing the discomfort of how your arm is trapped between your body and the desk, and start tracing quick circles over your clit. You’re already sensitive, hanging on the edge from his mouth, so you press harder, move your wrist faster.

“Feel so fucking good, baby,” Marcus groans behind you, “Close, ain’tcha?” He asks, “Go on baby, let go for me, let me feel you.”

And it’s his voice that does it, that finally tips you over the edge, has your cunt clenching around him, walls fluttering and teeth biting into your bottom lip as your knees give way. Thankfully, Marcus is gripping at your hips, which helps to keep you upright.

“Where, baby?” He asks, voice strained, and you don’t catch what he means, “Quick baby, where do you want me?”

“Anywhere.” You groan out, “I don’t care Marcus, just come for me.”

You think for a moment he might stay inside you, which would be fine, you thank the implant under the skin of your arm, but at the last minute he’s pulling out of you, feeling the hot slick of his cum on the skin of your ass as he lets out a low groan out of his mouth. He’s breathing heavily behind you, pulling his jeans back up. You try and move, to push yourself up, but you’re worried if you move further you might collapse.

“Stay there.” He says gently, leaning over you to pluck a few tissues from the box on his desk, gently wiping away the mess he’s caused, pulling your panties back into place and letting your skirt cover as much of your ass as it can in your position.

“You okay?” He asks softly, helping you to stand, tucking a bit of your hair behind your ear.

You nod, because you are, you’ve never been fucked so thoroughly, never been made to come so hard in your life, but there’s an anxiety settling in your stomach. What always happens now is they’ll tell you they had a great time, but don’t think they want to see you again, which is going to be even more embarrassing because you have to work with this man.

It's almost as if he can sense your anxiety, because he’s cupping your cheek again, leaning to give you a soft kiss on the lips, “Would you maybe want to go out sometime?” He asks, “I know we’ve done things out of order, but I’ve wanted to ask for a while.”

You smile, because it does make you happy, that the man you’ve fancied for the best part of a year actually wants to take you out, “As long as you promise to take me back to yours after and let me see you naked?”

He blows out air from his mouth, but his eyes are twinkling, “You drive a hard bargain,” He muses, “But you’ve got yourself a deal.”

He’s moving from you now, over to the couch, picking up your coat and your back, motioning you over so he can help you into your jacket, hooking your bag onto your elbow, then moving to gather his own things, “Wait, right now?” You ask, sounding surprised, as he shrugs his jacket on.

“I know a great diner just down the road.” He shrugs, picking up his satchel.

He’s walking back to you, but you put a hand on his chest, “Aren’t you forgetting something?” You ask, watching a confused look fall over his face, you dart your eyes to his desk, where the whip from earlier is lying abandoned, “I’m only coming back to yours if you bring that.”

You watch as a smirk splays across his lips. He snatches the whip from his desk, shoving it into the satchel, “Well, pretty lady, lead the way.”

#Marcus Pike #Marcus Pike fic #Marcus Pike fanfic #Marcus Pike fanfiction #Marcus Pike fluff #Marcus Pike smut #Marcus Pike x you #Marcus Pike x reader #Marcus Pike x female reader #Marcus Pike x f!reader #Pedro Pascal #The mentalist #the mentalist fic #the mentalist fanfic #the mentalist fanfiction #plus size reader

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rafesfavgirl · 4 days

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i just want to know — r. cameron

another sad one bc i apparently don't know when to stop lol

❝ you didn't measure up in any measure of a man and i don't even want you back, i just want to know ❞

pairing: ex-situationship!rafe x fem!reader

context: on the night of your 21st birthday, you run into rafe cameron—the boy who broke your heart.

words: 1.3k+

warnings: mentions of a toxic situationship, drunk!reader, word vomit, alcohol use, cigarette use, might make you cry, so much ANGST

you tumble out of the bar, your vision getting hazy from the amount of alcohol you'd drank, when two hands reach out to steady you.

"woah there, doll," the familiar drawl of his voice catches your attention, the alcohol haze fading for just a second as your eyes meet his.

rafe cameron.

"those are bad for you, you know," you point at the unlit cigarette hanging from the side of his mouth and he narrows his eyes at you, amused at your drunken state.

"and alcohol's not good for you either, but that didn't stop you, did it?" he kinks an eyebrow and you giggle.

"touché," you nod once and slip out of his arms to walk along the sidewalk, before slipping down against the brick wall of the bar to sit down on the concrete.

"alright, what are you doing?" rafe walks over to you when you begin unstrapping your heels from your feet.

"these shoes have been killing me all night," you complain, letting out a sigh of relief and tossing them off to the side.

"then why do you wear them?" rafe asks, taking a seat beside you.

"because they make my legs look hot," you say, causing him to chuckle.

he couldn't exactly argue. when the two of you used to go out, your legs were one of his favorite things about you—especially the way they looked wrapped around his waist.

"where are your friends, doll?" rafe takes the cigarette out of his mouth and shoves it into his pocket.

"don't know," you shrug. "making out with some guys, maybe?"

"and why aren't you?" he asks. "isn't it your birthday?"

that makes you snap your head towards him. "are you stalking me?"

"i-"

"i'm just kidding," you playfully hit his arm and giggle, causing him to shake his head at you, amused. "and to answer your question, i prefer to be single."

"oh?" his eyebrows raise, his blue irises boring into yours. "and why's that?"

"it keeps me focused," you say, pointing a finger at your forehead.

"focused on what?"

"school, college, my career…" you begin listing things off, and rafe listens intently. "i wanna be a doctor, you know. can't be out and about dating guys and getting my heartbroken."

"just 'cause you meet a guy in a bar doesn't mean you gotta date 'em," he reminds you. "don't you wanna have fun?"

"i tried that already, remember?" you allude to the situation you'd put yourself in with him a year ago, the alcohol clearly clouding your judgment—you'd never bring that up to him sober. "it didn't work out quite how i wanted it to."

a sigh falls from his lips, as he glances down. "y/n…"

"hey, can i ask you something?" you cut him off, and he picks his head up to look at you again.

"are you in the state to ask me something?"

"probably not," you shake your head, a smile on your lips. "but i probably won't get the chance to ask again."

"alright, shoot," he nodded.

you tilt your head to the side, eyes locking with his. "why did you end it?"

by the way his shoulders shift and his posture straightens, it was clear he wasn't expecting that to be the question. he always thought it ended amicably because you both agreed to it—or maybe that's just what he's told himself to prevent himself from feeling bad for breaking your heart.

"i mean, was it me?" you continue when he doesn't answer. "did i do something wrong? was i not experienced enough? did you just feel bad for me? what was it? cause i've driven myself crazy trying to figure it out and i just— i thought we were having fun."

you knew that you'd began to ramble, questions slipping out of your mouth with no filter, the alcohol winning over.

his eyes scan over your face, which looked to be in agony, your eyebrows scrunched and your eyes pleading.

"we were," he nods. "y/n, it never had anything to do with you."

"then why?" you asked, voice cracking.

the alcohol was now making you emotional, and there was no stopping it.

"why did you end it, rafe?" you poke a finger at his chest. "i thought you liked me."

"i did," he said, hand reaching up to push a piece of your back. "oh, pretty girl, i did."

his touch lingers for a second before it's gone again, and your eyes are welling up with tears.

"then why were there always other girls?" you ask, surprising him—he didn't know you knew about them. "if you liked me, why was there always someone else? why were you always with someone else when you weren't with me? why wasn't i enough for you?"

"i— i didn't think you knew about them," he admits.

"i pretended not to," you shrug, sniffling. "thought if i said something, i'd lose you. i mean, it's not like we were dating, y'know? i wasn't your girlfriend— it wasn't my place to tell you not to be with other girls. i just thought that if i'd stuck around long enough you'd realize that—" you stop and shake your head. "you know what, it doesn't even matter. it's not like it's gonna change anything."

well now, he felt like shit. you'd played it off so well when it ended—or maybe he was just too high to notice—but seeing you like this… he'd be lying to himself if he said it didn't break his heart. "i didn't know you cared that much."

"well, now you do," you tell him, before pushing off the ground to stand up. "and if you'll excuse me, i'm not really in the party mood anymore, so if you see my friends, tell them i left."

"y/n, wait," rafe scrambles to his feet, his hand reaching out to clasp around your wrist to stop you from walking away.

"what?" you turn to look at him, defeated. this wasn't exactly how you expected the night of your 21st birthday to pan out.

"i'm sorry, a'ight?" he drops his hand from your wrist, shoulders shrugging as his sad eyes met yours. "i never wanted to hurt you, i just— i wasn't ready."

"and that was fine," you tell him. "but you should've told me that. not pretended like you were taking me seriously when you weren't. i asked you so many times, rafe. and you lied, every time."

rafe sighs, hand motioning to you. "you were just so pure. perfect. i didn't have it in me to hurt you."

you scoff, head shaking as you eyes averted to the side. "doesn't mean you didn't."

"i know, i know," he closes the distance between you, taking both your hands in his. "and there is not a day that goes by where i don't kick myself for how horribly i treated you."

well, this was definitely news to you. when he called things off with you, claiming that it'd be too hard because you were going off to college and meeting new people, he made it look so easy. the words rolled off his tongue as if he'd said it a thousand times before. while you were falling for him, you were just another girl.

"i am so sorry," he says, eyes zoned in on yours. "the last thing i wanted was for you to feel as if you weren't enough for me. if anything, you were too much. and i mean that in a good way. i was too much of an idiot to see how special you were then."

though you'd waited for him to say those words the last six months, they didn't mean much to you now. you'd already come to terms with the fact that he just wasn't the one—hearing him say this now only provides you the closure you so desperately needed to move on for good.

"god," he brings a hand up to caress your cheek, and for just a second, you let yourself lean into it. "some guy is gonna be lucky as hell to get you one day."

"that guy just isn't you."

a small, sad smile forms on his lips, but he nods. "happy birthday."

y'all i think this one triggered something in me bc why tf am i crying rn 🌝

promise i'll start working on some cuter fics that aren't so heartbreaking!!!

reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated <33

click here to be added to my tag list!!

tags: @chiaraanatra @ijustwanttoreadlols @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafesgiirl @solanathascientst @10ava01 @werewhatkilledthedinosaurs @emotionsmgcbabe @outerbankspov @letmeintourheart @gublerstylesobrien1238 @deadgirlwalkingirl @my-fabulousness-has-arrived @jul1ettt @ihe4rttwd @samkickikc @ramblingsofadramastudent @maibelitaaura @vilentia

#rafe cameron #rafe #obx #rafe obx #outer banks #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe x reader #rafe x y/n #rafe outer banks #sad rafe #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron angst

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cowboyjen68 · 5 months

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Hi!!

I just wanted to ask some advice from one butch to another.

I recently got my dream job of being a warden on a nature reserve (and i love it!), while interacting with people there I get called a young man very often (i am 18 lol) and it gives me euphoria to know im masculine enough to even pass as a man. I've also had some volunteers ask if I was a man or not (despite my feminine name).

But recently I got called a "lady" outside while out with my mother. It drove me INSANE I cried alot.

Don't get me wrong I do identify as a woman but I hate being seen as a lady.

I've even thought about using he/him pronouns recently and changing my name but i'm too scared to as most people won't understand bc im still a lesbian.

Is this strange?

ps love u and ur blog lots xx

This is an easy answer because I was 18 once and looked enough like a teenage boy that I got "hey sport" and "hey young man" all the time, especially when in my work clothes. I worked for The Mayor's Youth Corp in Iowa City in the summers of my 15th and 16th year. Mom and Dad let me get a work permit AND bought me a used Datsun Pickup so I could drive myself the 20 miles there and back each day.

I was a volunteer with the Corp of Engineers youth from 14 to 16 and Dad knew I was super excited about this job. Mom was not thrilled that I wanted to cut my hair but my "grand mullet" was really hot under the hard hat in the summer heat of Iowa. (in the 1980's boys and girls had the short in front long and permed in back look) We compromised and I cut the sides really short. (photo of my me at 16 in my uniform for reference)

Using "he" would never have occurred to me because "EWWW Boys". This is not to say, however, that I hated being mistaken for a boy, on the contrary, it felt good. When someone thought I was a young man it meant they treated me as such. They didn't talk down to me, I knew they assumed I was capable and willing to get dirty. I knew unconsiously that along with the mistaken identity came many perks. This was nothing I analyzed but little girls see very early on the difference in treatment they recieve from their brothers, male cousins and neighborhood boys. This difference leads us to become negotiators to control our circumstances and not entittled to treatment based on our skills and actual personalies.

When an adult recognized me as a boy, even for a second at first glance, I knew I didn't have to prove myself. They, for an instant, assigned to me words like "strong, capable, demanding etc". No negotations required.

When someone realized I was a girl they literally had a change in their face. They smiled at me, softened their voice. When I was called "young lady" or "Miss" it always seemed to be backed my the worst assumptions (in my mind anyway). Lady is steeped in all kinds of traits I didnt want assigned to me. "quiet, weak, likes to dress pretty"OR "motherly, submissive, meek" Nothing good in my teen brain, that is for sure. Lady felt so OLD, so married to a man and reliant on him for survival, so polyster pants and ugly flats and scratchy blouses with a flower imprint. NONE of these things are inherent to being a woman or even socially forced on us but that is not how things work sometimes. Words that describe people get stereotypes and myths and traits attached to them all the time. Woman and girl are no different.

I can tell you, the best feeling in the world when I was in that job was when my supervisor, who damn well knew I was a young woman, trusted me with all the same tasks as the boys. Who valued my opinions and abilities equally to the young men. He took time to teach me what I didn't know, just like with them and didn't assume I couldn't or didn't want to learn things on the job. He didn't shame ANYONE for not being strong enough or for getting tired or needing a break.

Don't let the assumptions of others force you into another box of conformity. You don't need a boys name or to use any pronouns you don't feel connected to just to please others. In fact, none of that effort will change perceptions of those around you. I can promise that one day being called Lady will just be another word that you can hear and know it does not change your personality or your interests or control the hope you have for your future. What does waste a lot of time and energy is trying to adjust things in your life to fit incorrect or snap assumptions about you as a person. You can never control the thoughts of those around you but what you can do is stop worrying about it and enjoy YOU.

You have a job you love and are sure to thrive in. You are solid in your sexuality and love of women, you are in a unique position to possibly change the perceptions of others when they think of "young women". Your interactions with the public are sure to effect the assumpions of at least some people when they think of young women and their roles in our society.

Congratulations on your new career and I bet you rock that uniform.

#lesbian #butch #stereotypes #careers #words #lady

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ecoamerica · 20 days

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youtube

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

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lino-nyangi · 1 year

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100% fueled by this please read it first for more context. @fluffylino you will be the death of me. /j

wc: 1k

warnings: nsfw MDNI, inexperienced!reader, dirty talk, fingering. not proofread!

"you like my hands?" you blink, snapping out of your thoughts to realize you've been -quite shamelessly- boring holes into your boyfriend's occupied hands while he cooked.

"i— sorry!" you quickly blurt, looking down as your heart hammers in your chest and your cheeks burn in embarrassment.

"i'm not scolding you though?" minho tilts his head at you, "just saying, since you keep staring at them." he mumbles, cutting up some veggies.

"i'm just fascinated by your cutting is all. the knife, the way it's going smoothly is— sharp, it's nice and sharp, that's the word." you find yourself rambling in a pathetic attempt to come up with an excuse.

minho doesn't think it's pathetic at all though, he thinks it's so fucking cute. so he chuckles, "you don't have to justify anything baby, stare all you want." he glances up at you, "and maybe share the thoughts in your little head with me, i would love to hear them."

you gulp, watching him neatly working through all the ingredients, dicing them up perfectly. his arms flex every time he lowers the knife on the cutting board, the prominent veins on them only making them hotter. and his hands. god, his hands.

this is stupid, you think. why are veins attractive anyway? why do his fingers look so erotic while delicately handling a fucking vegetable? why is the force he's pushing down on the knife with to crush the garlic making you squeeze your thighs together?

you inhale.

"i've never fingered myself before."

minho's head shoots up to look at you for a second, his answer surprisingly ready. "want me to do it for you?"

you panic, instantly regretting letting that sentence escape your mouth. "n-no wait! i'm not saying that as– i didn't mean–"

"hey, hey, it's alright. you did nothing wrong." minho assures, "i said it because i wanted to, and i'm serious about my question." he puts the knife down and waits for your answer.

"i mean—" you look away, too nervous from having all of his attention on you. "minho, you still have to finish cutting the garlic–"

"once i'm done cutting the garlic, do you want me to do it for you?" he asks again.

"there's still a lot of cooking left to do aside from that. later– maybe we can..." you trail, too shy to say yes loud and clear.

"then i'm fingering you once i'm done cooking." minho bluntly concludes, resuming what he was doing and you feel your arousal pool between your legs at how dirty and straight forward he got.

his words only get filthier though, mumbling to himself as he stirs the pot.

"i'll make you cum on my fingers. can't believe i'll be the first to do that. guess i'm the lucky one huh."

"tight little cunt, hm?" he shoots you a quick glance, "i'll make sure to stretch it good."

minho insists you eat first, despite how horny and eager he was sounding just now, he wanted you to be well fed and taken care of first. and throughout the meal, you can't seem to stop fidgeting, soaked panties sticking to your core as minho's words keep replaying in your head like a broken record.

"no wonder you're always staring at my fingers. can't stop thinking about them in you all the time?"

once it's time, he lays you down on your shared bed inside the tent, kissing you drunk that you don't register how he got your bottoms off already.

"are you sure you want this?" he makes sure one more time, hand lingering close to the band of your underwear. when you give him the green light, he slips them off in one swift motion.

linking your lips again he lets one hand sink between your legs, fingers rubbing through your folds. "all wet just thinking about me?" he breathes through the kiss and you moan.

when he pulls away, sitting back up, minho places a firm palm on your stomach just as his middle finger teases your entrance, before slowly pushing in. he looks up to read your face for any signs of discomfort and sees you biting your lip in attempt to keep yourself from making any sounds, and he immediately reassures you.

"don't be shy, make those pretty sounds for me."

"they'll hear." you glance at the tent wall on your side, hinting about the people staying next door.

"they won't. there are crickets in the forest and the waves are loud tonight. you're good, be louder for me." minho sweetly encourages, making you feel more at ease to let out moans and hitched whimpers of his name as he pushes his finger in and out of you, going deeper with each thrust.

"doing so well pretty, just like that." he praises, slipping another finger in.

"does it feel nice? having my fingers inside your little pussy? is that what you wanted baby?"

"my sweet little thing. can't believe you've never had anything up your pretty cunt."

"so warm and tight. all for me."

"m-min, faster."

"faster?" he repeats, picking up the pace of his digits and you gasp. clearly you weren't ready for what you just asked for.

"this is faster, honey. want me to slow down?" minho softly asks, eyes studying your expression.

"no! please don't. close." you let out in huffs.

"go ahead, cum on my fingers." his thumb presses gently on your clit, rubbing tight circles to help you get there faster and soon your back is arching as your orgasm hits.

"that's right. there you go, good girl." he works you through your high, whispering sweet nothings until your body falls limp against his touch.

minho pulls his digits out of you before eagerly taking them in his mouth. "so fucking sweet." he mutters to himself and you feel your face heating up again as the fog in your brain starts to clear up. you pull on his arm to have him closer to you, mainly because you're too nervous and want to avoid his enchanting gaze. he obliges, hovering over you as you sling your arms around his waist.

"felt nice?" he whispers against your ear.

"yeah, thank you min." you sheepishly mutter.

"thank you for letting me, angel." minho kisses your forehead before pulling away to look at you.

"now tell me, can you handle something bigger or do i need to work you out some more?"

#absolute brainrot it's ridiculous #lee know smut #lee know hard hours #lee know hard thoughts #stray kids hard hours #stray kids hard thoughts #stray kids smut

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goldengleams · 4 months

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cut my hair - l. hughes

In which you and Luke come back to each other after you cut your hair.

Warnings: alcohol, underage drinking, angst, college melodrama Word Count: 4.5k words (let's go!!!)

A/N: Super excited for this one! This is inspired by “cut my hair” by Tate McRae and I would encourage you to listen to it while you read! Hope you enjoy and leave me some requests while you’re at it :))

Just wanna cut my hair, lose myself, make you sweat

Go out and get messed up, find myself in your bed

Just wanna cut my hair, little black dress, can't forget

Just wanna show you whatever she do, I can do it better

"Yo, Moosey, is that Y/N?"

Luke couldn't help but follow your figure from across the bar. He could always find you in a crowd, no matter the amount of people or the size of the room. His hand dropped from the shoulder of the girl standing next to him, his date for the night.

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, I think so," Luke said to his teammate Mark standing next to him. He suddenly felt hot, pulling on the collar of his shirt to allow himself to breathe a little easier.

"She looks good, man." Mark wasn't wrong, you did look good. Your head was thrown back as you laughed at something your friend said, looking happier than he had seen you since you fought before winter break.

Luke wanted to slap Mark but he knew it would do no good and he would be lying if he said he didn't agree with his comment. It had only been a few weeks since you had stopped talking, but he felt like it had been years.

You looked different, but it was a good different, he thought. Your hair was short now, right at your shoulders, highlighting your collarbone and your chest in the strapless black dress you wore. You were surrounded by a group of your friends. He recognized them as the ones who had picked you up from the house he shared with his teammates that fated night. He remembered how hard you had cried, unable to look at him after you fought about him leaving for New Jersey and the trust issues that clouded your vision. Luke remembered how he was unable to answer when you asked when the last time you had gone out on a date was. He wished he could've shown you how much he cared but he was too afraid to admit that he didn't want to lose you. He couldn't admit that he was just as afraid as you were. And then, before he knew it, you were storming out and you were on a break.

Luke regretted that moment. He couldn't tell you, because he was too nervous to text first, but he wanted to apologize. If he could have stopped himself from ever pushing you away, he would've never ended up standing with someone he didn't know.

Luke and a few of his teammates had been invited to a sorority formal, which is how he ended up in the back of a more formal bar far away from campus with a date he barely knew. Rutger's girlfriend had begged a few of the guys to go with some of her sorority sisters and Luke and Mark agreed, but he wanted nothing more than to be by your side.

"Dude, you're staring" Mark commented. "Maybe you should go talk to her."

"I don't know if she'd even give me the time of day," Luke said. “I fucked up.”

"You'll never know unless you try, Lukey. Besides, you probably just caught her on a bad day. What did you say to her anyways?

"I told her that she was overbearing and that I was going to leave soon anyways,” Luke said, close to Mark’s ear so his date couldn’t hear him.

“Oh,” Mark stammered. “Yeah, that’s bad, Luke.”

“Thanks,” Luke chuckled humorlessly.

“She’ll hear you out, dude. Just tell her how you really feel. Trust me, girls love honesty!" Mark said, already moving away from Luke to follow his date to the dance floor.

Luke sighed, rolling his eyes at Mark's immaturity. He knew he was so focused on his future that he had lost sight of the present-his college teammates, his classes. Most importantly, he had lost you. Maybe this was his chance to get you back.

I've been playing nice little too long, yeah

Drivin' on the high road hit a dead end,

I'd tell you but we just don't talk,

I've been having selfish thoughts

Your friends were so excited to go out and celebrate the first week of second semester. You could tell some of your girlfriends were crushing hard for some of the guys in the bar, but your mind was elsewhere after spotting a certain someone across the room.

For almost all of break, besides the holidays, you had been trying to figure out how to move on from Luke Hughes. You and Luke had clicked immediately, and even though you had tried to take the relationship slow, it was no use. Within two months, you were dating. Luke was proud to see you cheering for him at games and you became a staple at Thursday movie nights at his shared hockey house. You and Luke fit together like pieces of a puzzle.

Which is exactly why you couldn’t figure out why your boyfriend had started sending short messages and declined your affection starting after Thanksgiving break. Luke constantly claimed he had hockey practice or a team bonding event, but it was all proven to be false when you showed up at his doorstep one night to confront him.

Rumors found Luke Hughes like a moths to a flame. Whether it was his future in the NHL or his relationship status, your Michigan social media gossip pages never missed a beat. That week in the fall, Luke was apparently single and talking to a girl from the sorority the hockey team regularly hung out with. You never thought you were the jealous type, but with Luke’s odd behavior and his lack of communication, you thought the worst.

Even now, as you stood in the bar, you got a chill as you thought about the night you confronted him. Luke had the nerve to sit on his bed as you paced in his room, asking him simple questions that he had trouble answering.

He knew that you cared so much about your relationships with others so he used it against you, saying you were bombarding him with messages and he was sick of it. You couldn’t remember every sentence you spoke, but you could remember the hurt you felt when you realized that Luke just didn’t care about you like you cared for him. He had said it himself, he wouldn’t be around much longer, implying that you should both just move on. You didn’t wait for him to deal the final blow, instead, you called for the breakup and left before he could say anything else.

“Earth to Y/N! You want a drink?” Your friend, Caroline, asked. She waved her hand in front of your face to get your attention.

“Uh, I’m good. I didn't expect him to be here and I'm a little overwhelmed,” you replied. You hadn’t locked eyes with Luke, but you were afraid the moment was coming sooner than later since you struggled to tear your gaze from his tall figure.

“How about a shot then? They’ve got those green ones that are really good, and will make you forget that tall idiot who has been staring at you all night,” Caroline tried again.

I've been working hard while you're six drinks in,

Tossin' in the dark, feel you under my skin,

Once I start I just can't stop,

I've been having selfish thoughts

You were about to decline her offer when you saw who Luke was standing next to. You recognized Rutger and Mark easily, but you had only just got a clear view of Riley Jones, a sorority girl standing next to him. You had forgotten that there was a sorority formal the first week back from break, and of course, you had ended up at the same bar.

“No fucking way.” You muttered under your breath, but Caroline was too attentive.

“What?”

“He’s with Riley. He’s at the stupid sorority formal with that girl who’s in our biology class, C.”

Caroline gasped, always perfectly dramatic in every situation. “It's always the sorority girls, I swear!"

You nodded, finally able to turn your head away from Luke’s direction. Sighing, you pulled out your phone to check the time, only 10:23. You had made a deal with your friends that you couldn’t leave until 11, but that deal seemed much easier when your ex wasn’t factored into the equation.

“He shouldn’t even be here, it’s the middle of the season and he can’t drink, anyways,” you grumbled to your group of friends. They were hoping to have a Luke-free night, especially with the start of the new semester, but you all had forgotten the sorority that would be gracing the bar with their presence that Thursday night. Caroline rubbed your arm, assuring you that you weren’t alone in this situation.

“Well, he's definitely an idiot for losing you, but he doesn't seem too interested in his date," Caroline said. "Don't focus on him, the night is still young! And, not that you needed it, but you seriously just had the glow-up of winter break. Luke's missing out.”

"New year, no more being sad over stupid boys!" You lifted up your nearly empty drink to clink it with your other friends' glasses.

Your other friends chimed in and you laughed, Caroline wasn’t wrong. Despite crying over Luke for a few days, you refused to lay in bed and rot just because he had made you feel small. Instead, you opted to take out your anger at the gym over break, so you knew your dress that night fit you better than ever before. You had also decided to do a hair transformation and cut it quite short, a style your friends at college hadn’t ever seen on you. You knew you looked different and you felt confident.

“Why don’t I get us the shots before we hit the dance floor? On me!” You could feel your layer of liquid courage settle over you. Luke was closer to the bar than you were, so it was almost inevitable that he would see you if you got the drinks.

"You know he's over there, right Y/N? Don't look now, but he's staring at you." Your other friend, Lexi, said to you. Of course you knew. Luke was one of the tallest guys in the bar and he easily towered over the other guys that were hovering close to your friend group. Just as you went to look at him, he redirected his gaze to Riley and laughed at something she said. The nerve of him. You rolled your eyes and stood up a little. If he wanted to play hardball, so could you.

"Yeah, I wanna give him a taste of what he's missing."

“Okay, get it girl!"

You sauntered over to the bar, leaning over just enough so that your chest was on display in the new black strapless dress you had bought. It hugged you just right and showed off your assets quite well. The music was pulsing and the lights were pretty dark, so it was a shock when you felt a hand on your back.

There's no right way to say it,

Want you so bad, I hate it

Good girls, so overrated

So overrated...

Luke watched as you pulled out your phone to check the time. Even from across the room, he could see your bright lockscreen light up your face. The glow illuminated your bright smile and your dimples, and suddenly he wished he was right next to you to see it.

"Hey Luke, want to dance?" Riley's voice caught his attention. She was standing right in front of him, staring up at him with her big brown eyes rather excitedly. He hesitated, unsure of what to say, but Riley just kept on going.

"Mark said you liked to dance, so I thought..." Riley continued to ramble but Luke had already tuned her out. He didn't really care that he was caught in Riley's scheme for the night, he just didn't want it to look like he was actually with her.

"Mark's an idiot," he chuckled. "I don't dance."

Riley rolled her eyes, unimpressed at her date who was standing up against the wall. "Can you at least just put your arm around me again? My ex is like, right across the bar and I need to make him at least a little jealous."

Luke didn't mean to ignore Riley's plea, but he had lost you in the crowd. You weren't standing next to your friends anymore. He felt his heart rate pick up at the thought of losing you again. He scanned the room and finally found you leaning over the bar. If he could get Riley to move over a few steps, he could maneuver his way to the bar counter and maybe-

"Are you looking at Y/N?" Riley asked. It wasn't exactly a secret that you and Luke had broken up. All pictures of him had been removed from your social media and Luke hadn't been playing his best hockey by any means. Luke's trance seemed to end abruptly as he cleared his throat to try to come up with an answer, but it was no use. In the time he had been pondering his plan, some guy had sidled up next to you. Luke recognized him, his name was Chris, he was in your major and lived down the hall from you. He always said hi to the two of you when you passed him on the way to your room and Luke couldn't lie, he was pretty fit, too. He let out a shaky breath.

"Uh, no," Luke fumbled. "I was just thinking about getting another soda up at the bar."

"Luke, I know you've been staring at Y/N over there all night even though I'm your date," Riley hummed, seeming only slightly disappointed. "You should go talk to her. Girls are a little scary, but we just want to be loved. Look, I'm gonna go chat with my ex across the bar and show him a fun time, okay? You got this."

Riley walked away from Luke, leaving him standing there a little dumbfounded. Was it really that easy? Chris seemed to make it look easy, standing too close to you at the bar countertop, making you laugh as you waited for whatever you had ordered.

Luke found himself moving closer to the bar without really having a concrete plan in place. Would you ignore him? His runaway thoughts ended when he heard his name called.

Just wanna cut my hair, lose myself, make you sweat

Go out and get messed up, find myself in your bed

Just wanna cut my hair, little black dress, can't forget

Just wanna show you whatever she do, I can do it better

"Luke! Hey man!" Chris called. In his drunken state, he had practically whipped around and made you fall when he caught sight of Luke. When you realized who Chris was calling for, you immediately shook his hand away and turned back to the bartender who was almost about to get to you to take your drink order.

"Chris, don't," you tried to say as quietly as possible. Luke was getting closer to you to try to say hello but you wanted none of it. You ignored Chris and Luke greeting each other and kept your eyes trained in front of you. You refused to give in.

"I gotta get back to the guys, I'll see you later, Y/N? We can watch that new episode once you get back!" Chris called, giving you a side hug as you said goodbye.

"Hey, Y/N," Luke said. His voice sounded soft and timid and you couldn't help but feel your stomach fill with butterflies. This was the closest you and Luke had been since before Christmas and now it was the middle of January.

"You look beautiful, I love your hair," he tried again, finally standing next to you. You hated how tall he was in the moment, his frame completely isolating you from anyone else, since you were at the end of the bar.

"Thanks," you said. "New year, new haircut is how the saying goes, I think."

Luke laughed nervously, sitting down on the barstool next to you. He had let his hair grow out over break, you noticed. He was turned towards you, trying to get you to talk to him. You felt your face get hot at the thought of him being right there. He was so close, yet the last time you saw him, he pushed you so far away.

"I didn't know you were here," he tried, wanting you to look at him. You couldn't help the scoff that escaped your mouth.

"Sure you weren't staring at me all night? Caroline said she caught you ignoring your date, Hughes."

You held back laughter at the way his eyes widened. Caught. The bartender finally turned your way and you ordered shots for you and your friends, handing him your fake ID and flashing a smile as he handed it back to you quickly. Luke asked for a soda and he went to prepare your orders.

"I didn't know you were seeing Chris."

"I'm not, he just has manners and actually enjoys being in my presence, Luke."

Luke coughed, trying to break up the awkward tension between you two. His mind went back to your first date, where he had taken you ice skating. He remembered how hard you laughed when you fell, needing him to lift you up and hold your hand tightly to stay upright. Even thought you barely knew each other outside of a mutual friend, the conversation flowed easily. You two had never been awkward around each other, even in the early stages of your relationship.

"So," Luke began.

You rolled your eyes and put your hands on your hips, turning square to him. His gaze dipped to your neckline where your chest was accentuated and you almost laughed. While you hadn't dressed for him that night, it was like fate brought him to you just so you could make him weak. Perfect.

"So?"

Couple years back so sensitive, yeah

Movin' like that gets repetitive, yeah

Singin' bout the same old stupid ass things

Sad girl bit got a little boring

"I haven't heard from you in a while, Y/N."

"Well, you weren't interested in texting me anyways so I thought it would be easiest," you taunted him. “Remember when you told me I was too much to deal with?”

"I wanted to apologize for that," Luke sighed. "I wasn't thinking straight and I took it out on you, I'm sorry."

"Glad it only took you two months to realize you were an asshole and lost the best thing you ever had."

Luke was stunned at your bluntness. You stared right at him when you said it, your confidence unwavering. Fake it until you make it right? Your heart was beating fast. You didn't really drink often, but when you did, Luke knew how unfiltered you could be. He always found it amusing, the way your cheeks would flush and how sassy you became. It never failed to make him feel hot all over.

"God, where is that fucking bartender?" You mumbled, quickly looking past Luke to avoid another awkward sentence spilling out of your mouth. You were already two drinks in and wanted to keep feeling good.

"You're right," Luke said, still staring at you. "I know you wouldn't say that if you were totally sober, but I agree. I fucked up and ruined us.”

You could barely focus as the bartender asked you for your card and you fumbled to get it out of your phone wallet. Luke quickly got his card out and handed it to the man instead.

"Luke, don't. You're not even supposed to be in here mid-season," you chided. "And you don't have to pay for me, we're not together."

“Would you ever want us to be together again?” Luke asked quickly.

Luke’s question made you freeze.

“I’m not doing this here, Luke.”

“Just answer the question, Y/N.”

“I never wanted us to be over, Luke. But you made me feel stupid for wanting all of the things you gave me at the very beginning. I wasn’t going to stick around just to get my heart broken.”

You felt lighter now that the truth was out in the open. You’re sure Luke knew it too, by the guilty look he wore on his face. Everyone told you how good you and Luke were good together, but it was the two of you that still couldn’t figure things out.

“What if we get out of here? We can talk about how terrible I was back at my place,” Luke asked. He looked hopeful, almost too content. Three months ago, you would’ve jumped to do anything Luke suggested, but now, with him taking another girl out and his actions, you swiftly shook your head.

“Can’t, the girls and I are staying out for the night. But I hope you have fun with Riley, enjoy your night, Hughes.”

The shots and his soda were set down in front of you, breaking up the moment.

“I hate when you call me that,” Luke grumbled. You smirked knowingly. You always called Luke by a nickname, never his last name.

“Well, I hate when my ex is at the bar with another girl, but here we are,” you fired back.

"Riley went off with some other guy. Her ex, I think," Luke admitted.

"Sounds like fun," you shrugged. You tried not to get your hopes up at his statement. Luke had hurt you in the past.

"We only went together because Rutger set us up, Y/N. I don't even know her."

"Well you looked pretty smitten with her from across the bar, Luke." You said back, not caring that you blew your nonchalant cover. You tried to pick up the small tray of drinks, but stumbled in your haste to steady yourself.

"She's not my type, I thought you of all people would know that, Y/N. She literally just went to go fuck her ex in the bathroom."

"That doesn't make me feel any better Luke, oh my god," you scoffed, a little disgusted that you knew more information about Riley than you needed to know.

"Y/N, wait," he urged, standing up now to tower over you again. Luke's skin was glowing from the heat in the place and he looked at you breathlessly. "Hear me out, please. I know I fucked up, I know that. But I was scared that you'd leave when I play pro hockey and I didn't want to get left behind."

You took in a breath, unable to say anything. Suddenly, it felt like you and Luke were the only ones in the whole room.

“Give me one more chance, please,” Luke said quietly. “I hate that I hurt you.”

No right way to say it,

Want you, so bad I hate it

Good girls, so overrated

So overrated...

As you held the tray, you quickly glanced over to your table, where your friends were staring at you. You were unsure of what to do. You could keep walking towards your friends, forget Luke, and move on with your life. Or, you could do what the new you would do-make him sweat over the mistakes he made, maybe end up in his bed.

“You sure you won’t get sick of me?” You questioned. For the first time that night, Luke could see how sincere you were, the old you that he had loved and lost. He wouldn’t mess up his chance again.

"I could never get sick of you, Y/N. I hated not being able to call or text you and I missed your hugs and the way you laugh when you watch The Office, because you always have it on and you love how sarcastic it is, and how you-" Luke couldn't finish what he was saying, even though you would've enjoyed hearing it, because you had put the tray back down and stood on your tippy toes to kiss him. Your lips crashed against his and you swore you could feel fireworks going off inside your body.

The drinks on the counter were forgotten as his hand traveled to your back, trying to pull you closer to him. He toppled back on his barstool and you stood between his legs, feeling him press up against you. You let out a breathy laugh as you realized how hard he was in his dress pants.

"Jesus, Luke," you whispered in his ear, dropping your head to his shoulder, only a little embarrassed that you just made out with him and your friends were probably watching.

"Don't laugh," he stuttered out. "It's been a long break." You could see how blown his pupils were, pure bliss all over his face as you stood eye to eye.

"I'm not laughing," you said, but couldn't help giggling. "And yeah, it was a long break without you, but I don’t ever want to fight like that again, Luke. I’m serious.”

"Don't move yet," he begged. Luke's hands found your waist and he held you in place, blocking the hard on he was sporting. You smirked as you ran a hand through his hair, you had never seen him so desperate before.

“I was trying to have a serious moment, Moosey.”

“I know, I just can’t focus, not when you’re in that dress,” Luke mumbled, face buried in your neck. You felt your whole body shiver and you knew you wouldn’t last too long. His breath danced along your neck, making you want more.

"I'm glad you like it," you whispered. "I guess I'll have to wear it more."

"Hope it's easy to take off," Luke trailed off, alluding to your intimate moments that he craved.

"Well, what if we move soon and we call an uber and go somewhere a little quieter than this? Then we can talk." You mused. He looked at you contentedly and nodded quickly.

"And you can drop off the shots as a peace offering to my friends when I grab my coat," you said. Luke looked a little nervous but you assured him your friends wouldn’t make a big deal. You knew you weren't very convincing, but it didn't matter, because Luke was practically jumping up to carry the tray of shots over to the table where your friends were sat. They tried not to stare at the two of you as you walked over, but it was no use. There were grins on all of their faces as you said your goodbyes and grabbed Luke’s hand to pull him out of the bar and into an Uber to start the real fun of the night. And if Luke pressed you up against the outside of bar, made out with you the whole uber ride, and kissed you until you knew nothing but his name, that was a secret you'd never tell.

Don't forget to like, reblog and comment! Let me know what you want to see next!

#nhl hockey #nhl #luke hughes #umich hockey #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes x reader #lukey pookie #luke hughes i love u sir #tate mcrae #tate mcrae supremacy #cut my hair

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mirohtron · 11 months

Text

The villain had never seen the hero like this. Twitchy. Vulnerable. Volatile. Wide-eyed and not quite present.

Of course, after the media outpour, after the merciless backlash, after the mess that had went down between them and their agency, the villain had expected some form of pain on the hero's face, but not...this. Some look like they'd gone through a revelation that had ruined their life.

They got the compulsion to take advantage.

"I always knew they would do something like this," they murmured pitifully. They brushed slow, careful fingers under their chin. "But not to someone like you. Never you. You were always so... good."

The hero's eyes snapped up, suddenly cognizant.

The villain flinched back from the rage they saw, and just as quickly it flickered out in the hero's face and they were back to sadly staring.

A moment passed.

The hero said nothing, so the villain continued.

"Would you like to exact revenge?" they asked, gentler this time. "I could help."

The hero looked up again, wide-eyed, but this time interested.

The villain slowly raised their hand, careful not to spook, and touched their fingers to the hero's cheek. "They hurt you," said the villain. "You. I think that warrants some retaliation." They dropped their hand and the hero didn't follow it. The villain wasn't sure if they were cognizant of anything at all.

"Do you know the details?"

"Of what happened? No."

Silently, the hero tilted their head to the side.

"I don't want to take advantage of you," the villain told them gently. "I just believe your rage has been suppressed and smothered and doused for far too long. It's unhealthy, you know—"

"They threw me away," the hero said flatly. "Like rubbish. Because I found things." They tilted their head to the other side. "They sent people to me afterwards. Tried to get me to kill myself. When that didn't work they sent a hero."

The villain buffered as they processed this information. Of course they knew the higher ups at the agency liked doing terrible things, but...

"Just them?"

"Not just them. And not just the people."

The villain opened their mouth, considered their next words. But they were not sure what would give another seething head tilt and what would give the weakness they'd prefer.

"Not just them," the villain repeated quietly. They eyed the hero's stray hairs, the blood and dirt and cuts on their face. All their time in this job they'd never seemed to fit a place like this; a gloomy room, a star-lit sky, tall, looming, spindle-shaped trees. They raised a careful hand to tuck hair behind the hero's ear. "What would you like to do?"

"A lot of things."

The villain trailed slow fingers down the line of the hero's jaw. Slightly, so slightly they could've imagined it, the hero leaned into their touch. Their chest swelled . "Bad things?"

They placed their fingers over the hero's throat to feel the inevitable swallow. "Yes."

"You'd be justified. All these years of overwork, crawling into your bed each thankless night, this constant persistence that you had to do better." The villain stepped close as the hero's expression twisted in pain. "I'd justify that. I think, anyone who isn't an idiot would justify that. Think about it." They cupped the hero's face with both hands, voice down to a whisper. "Think of what you could do to them with my help."

Something in the hero's eyes cleared. They leaned a fraction of an inch back, all the fog in their eyes disappearing.

The villain started to draw their hands back.

The hero caught their wrists in a vice-like grip. They were present. Their stare was fierce. "No. Not just revenge," they said. "I want them to feel helpless. Do you know how much I've contributed to their strategies? Their technological advancement? And yet they don't give me any weapon that's not years old. I want them wishing they could've been better, that this could've been prevented." They shook their head just slightly, and the hair the villain had carefully tucked back came loose to frame their face.

"I want them wailing for help," the hero said. They let go of the villain's wrists and touched their palms to their cheeks instead. "I want the city bending at my whims," they breathed, stepping close, "like I bent for theirs. I want them to resent me. I want them to fear me. I want them scared when night time comes, because they fear I'll pop out and steal them. Then they'll see. Then they'll see how great I am. How great I always was. How I was their fault."

For the first time the hero looked like they belonged in this gloom, like the night sky was rising behind them; a lethal backdrop. The trees behind them seemed to rise up, pitch-black silhouettes. A bloody, dirty face, angry, wide eyes, horrible words spewing out their mouth—oh, the villain didn't know how they never saw it.

They looked like they meant every word. The villain was aware of every inch of them, suddenly alight with fury, with potential, with the need to ruin and desecrate.

The hero pulled them closer, until they were breathing each other's air, and the villain wanted to see their mouth dripping with blood that didn't belong to either of them. Such wild teeth they had. Such a cruel tongue. Such eyes, such hands, such looks. "I want them," the hero said, "to forever regret me. I want to grow like festering mold in their memory. I want to be a parasite in their history."

"You're wonderful," the villain whispered dazedly.

The hero snapped out of whatever had overcome them. They let go of the villain's face and moved back.

The villain snapped out of their stupour, straightening. Back they looked, and the hero had returned to looking like a fawn, all traces of that destructive sadism gone. The villain clenched their fist to collect themselves, bit the tip of their tongue.

"It'll be a pleasure to help you exact your revenge," said the villain. They thought of new ways to take advantage of the hero. Thought, distantly, how they could amplify their terrible side. "But you have to trust me."

"That'll be work."

"I will have to trust you, too," they said. "And—don't wear these colours." They traced the collar of the hero's ruined shirt. "I've always thought black looked much better on you."

The hero looked at the villain. "Your colour."

The villain tugged lightly on their collar. Looked back at them. "My colour." They righted it and brushed off lint that wasn't there from their shoulder. "Now, to work."

The hero followed.

In ten months they brought despair to the city.

In twelve the hero had made the villain theirs.

#kyles.writing #hero x villain #villain x hero #heroes and villains #hero #evil hero #corrupted hero #bad hero #corruption arc #writeblr #writers on tumblr #villains and heroes #writing #my writing #hero x villain community #sorry . that this is mid

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wosoluver · 24 days

Text

To undo a mistake

Part 4/17 - previous - next

Lena x Bayern player!reader, Ana Guzmán x Bayern player!reader

That therapy session was... something. To say the least. Your eyes puffy once again.

We didn't talk much. I practically just dumped all my problems to her. But it felt good to get everything out, to someone who wouldn't judge you but also wasn't allowed to give too much of her opinion.

When you walked out, Ana wasn't there yet. So you just decided to sit and wait.

It took her around 10 minutes to show up.

"Hey. Have I made you wait for too long?"

"No, not at all. So do you want to go get some coffee? I'm out of practice today and you probably don't have many friends here yet."

"Your the one that looks like you could use a friend. Let's go. You drive, I don't have my license yet."

"First of all, ouch. Second of all, let's go. You'll be my passenger princess." - You said it excited.

Lena never really let you drive, you were always the passenger princess.

And you quickly tried to wisk the memory away.

You were both in comfortable silence in the car. Only the sound of Ana's music playing in the back. And yes you were forced to give her the rights to dj. Passenger princess' rule number 1.

You stop at your favorite place. It was never too crowded, which you were thankful for.

"I'll go order, what do you want?"

"Whatever your having, is fine."

After ordering and getting your coffees you go sit on a quiet corner.

"So, how are you adapting to Germany?"

"Oof- it's so fucking cold here. Not even in the coldest winters we get this temperature in Colombia."

"You'll get used to it after some time. A few jackets and coats and you're good."

"And you? Had a nice time in therapy?"

"Oh yeah. So much fun!" - you answered equally as ironic.

"I can tell by your puffy eyes.

I think today was my first time not crying in there."

"Must be hard. I've never had a bad injury. But it seems like the worse. Lena went through-" - you cut yourself off before you could say anything else. Your face dropped. Here you were again. Everything you think of, brought up Lena, one way or another.

"And Lena is-"

"My ex. I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking when I said that."

"It's fine. Do you want to talk about it?"

"No." - but then you proceeded to dump everything that had happened into the conversation. - "It's just, my head is still trying to wrap around everything. She already has a new girlfriend. And I'm still dealing with my feelings.

She broke up with me, over the phone can you believe that? I never felt so meaningless, so betrayed. Our five month relationship thrown into the trash. All of that, because Munich is too far from Wolfsburg for her taste."

"Wow, you had a lot to say for someone that didn't want to talk about it." - she said that hoping it would easy the anxious face you had going on. - "It's okay. Time works differently for different people. You have the right to mourn your relationship.

Is that what has been driving you down?"

"Yeah, I just wasn't ready to see her. I'm still in love with her. I mean was. After what happened Saturday, I think it might be time to except it's over."

"You still had feelings for her? Even after what she did?"

"Yeah. I guess I was just hopeful. I felt like in some way things weren't over yet. I just- It just didn't make sense. Lena is not that type of person. She would never do that."

"But she did. Look, if she meant to hurt you or not, you'll probably never know. Unless you talk to her."

"I am not going to talk to her."

"Then you'll have to settle for the unknown."

"I think I will. Can we talk about your feelings now? I've humiliated my self enough."

"Fine. You were right when you said I needed friends." - she let out a deep breath. - "When I first got injured. I was very hard on myself. Specially after hearing the diagnosis and that I'd have to go under surgery. I stressed my self over when I shouldn't have.

I pushed everyone away.

The hardest thing, when we are hurting, is to remember others are most likely going through something too."

"But that's kind of natural I guess. To be so into your own head you forget about others. It's just- there is such a thin line between being compassionate towards people and putting their needs and feelings before yours. To be honest I've never been good at navigating though it either."

"Yeah, I've been getting better about it I think. Therapy has helped me understand a lot of things. The most important of them, I think it was acceptance.

I feel so much better since I accepted that I have no control over this type of things. I couldn't change it even if I wanted to. I just have to go through it. And soon enough I'll be back playing once again."

"It's good to know your coming out better from this one. Sometimes things happen for a reason, and sometimes it's for the better"

"It's getting late, we should get going."

"Yeah. I'll give you a ride home."

For the rest of the day all you could think about was what you two had talked about.

Maybe you could use some acceptance yourself. Of how things were, and not what you think they should be.

And stop worrying so much about what you had no control over.

That's how it works when you live right? Life happens.

Have you guys been wondering what's been like for Lena? Well next chapter is Lena's pov!

It's still an Obi fic I swear.

I think from this chapter on, it's finally going to be good writing. I wasn't liking how things the previous parts came out.

#woso x reader #lena oberdorf x reader #lena oberdorf #vfl wolfsburg frauen #fc bayern frauen

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