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#so just. Any Scene Where He Scares Me
todayisafridaynight · 4 months
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So, here’s a question I don’t think anyone’s asked or at least it’s been a while… why is Jo your favorite?
i was trying to find the post where i explained it in depth but i'll give a tl;dr his backstory regarding masato and his implied childhood abuse recontextualizes a lot of his behaviors and actions as well as adds extra layers to his devotions to arakawa and the speculative progression of that relationship going from strictly 'transactional' (being that he's only there to see masato and arakawa just Happens to be there) to genuine respect and adoration and that makes my brain tingle. also i think hes hot
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batfamfucker · 1 year
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There are four main types of Batfam fans in regard to how people interpret Bruce Wayne as a dad (/Joking. This is mostly satire and should not be taken seriously):
Fans that think Bruce is emotionally constipated and isn't the best at being a parent but still tries (Differs per person). Don't necessarily think he's absuive but thinks he can be toxic or have unhealthy expectations for the Robins. Can smell the Oldest Daughter Syndrome coming from Dick and have Family Line (By Conan Gray) as their top song on their Dick inspired playlist and Daddy Issues (By The Neighbourhood) for Jason.
Fans that choose to believe Bruce goes to therapy in their own canon. Love B:WFA. Thinks the comic can be cheesy at times and so find a balance between B:WFA Bruce and Please Go To Therapy BruceTM as their middle ground. He struggles. They advocate that Bruce is not a bad parent, he just has bad writers that seem to forget Bruce wouldn't hurt kids, especially not his own. Love the humane moments and scenes he has in BTAS and the early JL cartoons. He may not be perfect but he's not literally abusive. Whores for Bruce being able to admit when he is wrong and for Jason and Bruce reconciling. I recommend Grow As We Go by Ben Platt for this one.
A mix between the first two. Was fine-ish when Dick was younger. Didn't help him in the healthiest way but eh. Still emotionally constipated but that happened more so after Dick left and Jason died. Started getting better when Tim came back but was still closed off. Should probably go to therapy with the kids so they can drag his ass about all the things he's done that have actually affected them negatively. Understands his mistakes and is also able to admit when he's wrong, eventually. It's not easy but he starts to do better and learns to be more emotionally available. Still has to get chewed out by Alfred sometimes but definitely better than he used to be and it shows. Reconciliation is slow and gradual but progress is made for everyone involved.
The one's I personally avoid for my own sanity and wellbeing:
Think Bruce is a complete bastard and abuser. Want him to choke. Hate any and all interpretations of him. Some of which will refuse to understand how anyone could have a different interpretation. Will point out comics where, in all fairness, he is a dick but forget that characterisation can significantly differ from one series to the next, as comic characters are constantly passed around to different writers and have been for decades. Not to mention movies, shows, etc.
#Bruce Wayne#Batman#Batfam#Batdad#I'm not tagging everyone in the Batfam I can't be assed#Sorry there's like 500#Bruce has a child for every mental disorder he has#Dick is his ADHD. Jason is his C-PTSD. Tim is his Anxiety. Cass is his OCD. Damian is his Autism.#Like bro the therapist is RIGHT there#You have the money just GO#I am a mix of 2 and 3 tbh but more so 2 because he is my comfort fictional father figure. I already have a shit dad irl#I'm not dealing with it in my favourite media too#Type 4 fans scare me I lowkey see so many people like that and I'm like. If the block button wasn't free. I'd be in debt by now#I get that you saw Tom Kings work. So did I. I hate that fuck. But I personally prefer the scene of him in JL with Ace on the swings#Or the one with him playing with shape block toys with a baby whilst Supes and WW handle the questioning#Or when he hugs literally any of his kids#Or the one of him and Jason watching a movie and eating popcorn when Jason's ill. And they have the picture of them posing#Or when he cried in Flashpoint over the letter his dad left him because the little boy in him needed that#Plus any time Bruce and Clark interact as Best Friends. The Golden Age comics where they were basically Dick's gay dads 💀#But yeah. I could make a poll from this tbh.#This is a generalisation on purpose genuinely do not take it seriously#If I see ANY disclosure. It's delete and block on sight#Bruh I'm still recovering from the notes of my Fallout 4 John Hancock in a Drag Race outfit crossover post#I know it sounds like I'm being paranoid but that's because I am. You have not seen the things I have seen in my notes#You do not know of the wars I have fought of over ghoul dicks and high heels#I have seen things I can never burn from my vision. Read things I will never have the mercy of forgetting#Over silly little shitposts. Lmao. Anyway. Here. Have some food.
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it-begins-with-rain · 7 months
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Halloween Recommendation: Stephen King's Rose Red
** This one can be tricky to find. It was originally released as a 3 night mini-series in 2002, but then re-released as a motion picture. Apparently Hulu has it?
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In 1906, oil barron John Rimbauer built a veritable palace overlooking Seattle. It was his young bride, Ellen, who would give the house it's name: Rose Red.
First blood was drawn before the foundation was even laid. A foreman, murdered over a simple argument. Bizarre deaths and mysterious disappearances plagued Rose Red, swallowing up the Rimbauer family, their servants, friends, and anyone who dared enter.
Eventually, the grand estate fell into disrepair. Paranormal investigators descended upon the property, but none were ever able to solve the mystery, nor stop the deaths.
Now, more than 90 years after the first deaths at Rose Red, Steven Rimbauer, the last living descendant of John and Ellen Rimbauer, has been offered massive sums of money to sell Rose Red. It will be totally leveled, the land used for condos.
Before the house is destroyed, Steven agrees to let Dr. Joyce Reardon and a cobbled-together team of psychics, mediums, and other paranormal investigators do one final sweep of the house.
What evil lurks within Rose Red?
What horrors did John and Ellen Rimbauer summon in their palatial estate- or were they victims themselves?
Why does Rose Red kill the men, but swallow the souls of the women and force them to haunt it's halls?
How many of Dr. Joyce Reardon's team can escape with their lives?
*** Stephen King wrote the screenplay for this story, but there is no novel. Instead, as part of the publicity and hype leading up to the miniseries premiere, "The Diary of Ellen Rimbauer" was published, serving as a prequel. You can buy the novel on Kindle.
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upsidedowngrass · 1 year
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fun fact is in this blogs drafts was a long essay i planned out a few months back abt how liam never actually DID want to kill airy, even when he tried to. it was largely abt how this wasnt something he wanted to do for catharsis, and it wasnt something he wanted to do AT all and that this was a rash decision borne from fear. because this is important to me and i STILL think abt it sooo so much. maybe One Day ill finish writing it
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atrwriting · 5 months
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kisses and other sweet things — billy the kid x cowgirl!reader
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ok… i couldn’t help myself lol
also side note i don’t remember what scene this gif was from but i feel like his turned on look and look of disgust/confusion is the same — like if i hadn’t watched the show i’d be like “did he just see a pretty girl walk in?? or did someone just threaten him?? both??? hopefully both???”
but like also if he looked at me like that…,,,… melting. on the spot.
as always, warnings: smuuuuut, dom!billy, brat!reader, i don’t know if you can call it non-con but just to be safe im going to put that, p in v sex, oral, spitting in mouth (yeah i went there sue me), tears, biting, cums inside of reader (they didn’t have condoms in his time but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t use them!!!!)
also don’t sue me i don’t know if they had running water (sinks, baths, etc) but also the real billy the kid didn’t look this fine so we’re making it up as we go and going with the flow
ENOUGH TALK — here’s kisses and other sweet things…
you had been working with a crew for some time now, and as you all struggled to keep a cash flow — you had to turn to other things.
like joining forces with another crew.
the idea of joining a crew wasn’t what unsettled you — what unsettled you was being the only woman with a gun with even more men.
it’s just for one job, y’all, they had said. just this one.
one job turned into two. then that turned into three. four, five, six — and suddenly you knew everyone’s back story, drink of choice, and their type when it came to women of the night.
your first crew never asked how you felt, but you also never told them. they were all — including you — in it for the money. at the end of the day, it was all about what you had in your pockets. there was no time for quelling the simple worries, like they’d call the ones in your head.
at the end of the day — you had been doing this a long time. you had taken care of yourself up until this point, and you would continue to do so. didn’t matter who you were working with — you’d get it done.
after a day of success, everyone wanted to blow off steam. you all had found a boarding house for the night where the alcohol ran deep and there was two or three pretty women for each cattle rustler in your large group. you stayed behind a bit to drink with them, but once they started eyeing the women — you knew it was time to go.
sleeping with any of the men you worked with was also a bad idea. you couldn’t afford them seeing you as anything less than someone quick with a draw — and you worried a night of meaningless sex would ruin that.
you would never take the chance.
“have your fun, boys,” you chuckled. “you deserve it.”
“won’t stay a little longer, sweetheart?” your leader asked as a girl licked at his neck.
“another time — bath’s calling my name.”
a few pleasantries were thrown over shoulders, and you returned them. you made your quick escape up the stairway and into the shared washroom between three or four bedrooms. you knew your party had rented those rooms for the evening, so you were very excited to be able to have the bath to yourself for a little bit longer than usual.
you filled the tub with scalding hot water. the steam from the water and the whisky in your stomach made you hazy, but you welcomed it. who knew when you’d have until you had this sort of luxury or privacy again — you weren’t going to waste the chance.
the bath was quite large — fit for two or three people. you stayed on one edge as you washed your dirty skin. you were about to relax against the back when the doorknob began to turn.
you immediately snatched your gun and pointed it at the door.
“shit — sorry.”
it was the bonney kid.
he was holding a towel in his hand and was naked from the waist up. a scared look on his face was present as he tried to avert his eyes.
you put down the gun and raised an eyebrow, waiting for his next move.
“just came to wash up,” he spoke.
you knew he couldn’t see anything from where he stood, and you knew he wouldn’t be able to see below the water’s surface with the bubbles. you could tell him to fuck off — but being mean to some of these assholes sometimes proved to be worse than just swallowing your pride and being nice. you didn’t know billy very well — and you weren’t about to find out while you were naked if he was an asshole or not.
“i’m going to be a bit,” you spoke. “i don’t mind if you come in.”
he looked at you uneasily before nodded curtly, lips parting. you closed your eyes and leaned back against the tub, letting your eyes drift closed. you heard the water running and the sound of soap being scrubbed onto skin, and felt better. the next sound you heard was a razor being pulled out and your eye drifted open.
he was shaving.
he kept his gaze on himself in the mirror as he spoke. “surprised the kid can shave?”
you smiled. “never thought you were a kid from how you were with a gun.”
that made him smile. “never seen a women like you with a gun before.”
you hummed in response, not exactly sure how to respond.
“come up here to escape?”
that made you laugh. you couldn’t help but let your gaze fall on his reflection in the mirror. his eyes were trained on his skin as he let the blade slide down his neck and pull up loose hairs. your mind was hazy with drink and heat, which made you forget to respond.
“some people would say it’s rude to stare, sweetheart.”
you laughed at that — he had you there.
“and some people would say it’s rude to intrude on a woman’s bath,” you countered.
he smiled, but kept his eyes off you. you’d like to think it was out of respect. “…and would you?”
“not with you,” you offered. “you’re the only one who hasn’t tried to make a pass at me.”
“not hard to believe,” he spoke. “downstairs they’ve got a running bet to see who will be the first with you.”
you scoffed. “in their dreams.”
billy didn’t respond. he was almost done with shaving. he was washing more of his upper arms in the sink, and you suddenly felt bad. you were only taking this long because you thought everyone would be preoccupied with the downstairs activities, and because you couldn’t exactly exit with him standing there — able to see you.
“i can leave if you want to wash,” you spoke.
“water will be cold,” he responded. “‘s fine — i’ll wait the hour.”
you weren’t sure why — but that made you feel bad.
“you could join me.”
you weren’t sure what brought that on, and you knew you’d probably regret it later. however, billy’s eyes drifted up the length of the mirror to the edge where you knew he could see the tub, to your eyes. you weren’t sure how you looked — but you knew your curls were piled on top of your head and you looked sleepy. relaxed, even. peaceful.
“i don’t think you mean that, sweetheart.”
you hummed. “you don’t have to. just thought i’d offer.”
he appeared to sigh, and that’s when you thought he would leave — but he didn’t.
instead, he locked the door.
“should’ve done that in the first place,” he spoke before coming towards the tub to unlace his pants.
you turned your head away from him and let out a small giggle, shielding your gaze from his naked form. “how would we have gotten so well acquainted then, mr. bonney?”
you heard him find the other side of the tub where he sat back against. you let your eye line find in front of you and your jaw almost dropped at the sight. billy appeared to struggle to get comfortable as he sank into the warmth of the tub. the water line came up to right under his chest, showing off all of his perfect and trim muscles. with billy’s arms stretched out around the edge of the tub… you got the perfect view of the stretched muscles of his biceps.
“do i need to remind you about staring?” he asked.
you weren’t sure if he was joking — but he was right. if you wanted respect, you had to give it, too.
but you couldn’t deny just how handsome he was.
“sorry,” you said with a coy smile, and let your head fall back against the tub again.
you could hear water slightly splashing from the other side of the tub. billy had extended his legs so they were brushing yours slightly, and you shivered at the thought.
“can you…” he began. “can you get my back?”
you lifted your head and smiled. i can do all that and more if you asked, you thought.
“sure,” you said with a simple smile.
billy turned around and handed you the soap. there were a few cuts and bruises littered on his back, and you tried to be as careful with them as possible. you started on his neck, working the soap and the sponge against his muscles.
he hummed in response. you could’ve died at the thought of the big, bad billy the kid keening into your touch because you were massaging his muscles just right.
“that feels good,” he spoke. “talented fingers i suppose.”
you laughed lightly at that. you kept the sponge on his shoulders, and then worked down towards the expansion of his shoulder blades. it was scary to see such a broad man before you as you were so bare, but also the look of him was so enticing. you drew rough circles on his skin and worked your way down to the middle of his back.
“that’s good,” he replied. “thank you, darlin’.”
you went to hand the sponge back to him, but he turned around in place instead. the tops of your breasts were showing and you knew he could see the wildness in your eyes.
“how’d a sweet thing like you end up with us?” he asked, eyes searching yours for the answer.
“maybe i’m just the only one who knows how to handle you boys,” you spoke, trying to be coy. “actually… one of them i grew up with. we’ve always worked together, but that’s as far as it’s ever gone.”
“and what would he say if he knew if you were in here with me?” he asked.
you scrunched your eyebrows at him. “wouldn’t be his business. he’s also got a pretty blonde in his lap tonight. change of pace from his usual red head.”
“and he missed a chance to get to see you like this?” he asked, tucking a curl behind your ear.
“is his loss your gain, mr. bonney?” you asked, a smile drifting onto your face.
that was bold. you knew it. you could feel it.
“i think you’d have to ask the pretty miss before me,” he responded, inching his face closer. “she’d be mighty sweet if she let me kiss her.”
“she’s pretty pissed you haven’t already.”
he stared at you for a few minutes with his plump and pink lips parted in such a way where you knew thoughts were running behind his pretty eyes. he dipped his forehead towards yours as the intensity of the situation mixed with the hot steam around you and the liquor inside both of you. he dipped his chin once, and caught your waiting lips with ease.
his lips were dry and cracked against yours, but you loved it. billy was the type of man that was hard and worked even harder, and every bit of him reflected that. his dark curls were twirling around his hairline, mixing with sweat and soapy water. you wanted to brush them back, hop in his lap, and kiss him until there was more water on the floor than in the tub.
but you couldn’t — not yet.
billy’s lips folded between yours as if he was just happy to be here — with you. the feeling was intoxicating as there was nothing like sharing intimacy with a sweet man in the comfort of hot water. you couldn’t help yourself in that moment — you brought your hand up to cup the side of his face, and he sucked in a sharp breath in response.
“you can touch me, you know,” you whispered.
“the things i want to do to you, darlin’…” he spoke, shaking his head and trying to catch his breath at the same time. “shouldn’t be wasted in a tub. let me take you back to your room.”
you both left the bathtub and tried your best to dry off as quickly as possible. it was almost hard to believe you were giggling with billy like innocents as you raced back to your room — hoping not to run into any more cowboys.
you immediately pushed him to sit down on the edge of the bed before you climbed into his lap. his thighs were strong and thick — the perfect foundation for a thing like you to hold yourself up enough to grab his cock in your hands, and swallow his moans through another kiss.
“tried not to stare in the bathtub, billy… but can you blame me?” you asked, breathless.
“noticed you starin’,” he grunted, running his calloused hands all over your body. “couldn’t help but stare back. needed to see where the trigger on you was.”
you squealed in delight at his dirty mouth before he threw you off his lap and rolled you over. he immediately started kissing down your body.
“i want you inside me, billy,” you whined. “not that.”
he worked his way back up to you before he caught you in another chaste kiss. against your lips, he spoke, “i’m a gentleman, sweetheart, first and foremost.”
“and what if a dirty little thing like me didn’t want a gentleman?”
he caught your chin in between his pointer finger and thumb and extended your neck ever so slightly. he looked down his nose at your pretty, flushed face. you smiled up at him as he scanned your face. “then i’d tell you — if i’ve got you all to myself, i’m going to do anything i want with that pretty little pussy. planned on tastin’ you, sweetheart — you got a problem with that?”
a wide grin spread across your face as your cheeks became rosier. “can’t say i can argue with you, then, cowboy.”
he pressed a heavy kiss to your lips, your cheek, one on the base of your neck — and then bit down hard on the skin of your shoulder. immediately, your hands came up to lay across his biceps before he began to suck on the spot, sending shock waves throughout your body. he withdrew from you and was in between your thighs in an instant.
he spread your legs and held them down in place. his tongue was strong and thick as it explored the places between your folds. you hoisted yourself onto your elbows so you could get a better look at the angel before you.
you watched as his eyes close as his tongue drew sloppy, wet circles around your clit. your teeth sank into your bottom lip as you watched him bring a hand up to his mouth, lubricate his fingers, and prod at your entrance. billy let out a throaty groan as his two fingers slipped in with ease, exploring for that one special spot.
he watched as your pussy swallowed his fingers, hoping to trap them inside of you. you were almost vibrating at how good it felt to have his fingers inside of you and his drier thumb deliver the most delicious bouts of friction and pressure to your clit.
“yes —“ you gasped, gazing at his fingers.
his eyes immediately flicked up to yours. “still got a problem with this, doll?”
you folded your lips into each other as you shook your head slowly, holding his gaze. you were biting back the moan as he curled your fingers inside of you.
“no, that’s not how this works,” he stated. “if i’m making you feel that good, i should get to hear those pretty moans, don’t you think?”
a deep crease was forming in your brow with the perfect combination of friction, lubrication, pressure, and rhythm you had ever felt. you wanted to respond to him, of course, but how could you?
“i gotta work for it, that it?” he grunted. “oh, sweet thing…”
he shoved a third finger inside of you and you gasped. you couldn’t help it. you fisted the sheets on either side of you and threw your head back in the air. his thumb was working long, drawn out circles on your sensitive clit as your hips bucked up to meet his movements.
“that’s what you needed, baby?” he asked. “break so easily. i’d fit another, but this pussy is so sweet and tight — can’t fit.”
you were practically whining at his words. he would switch between his tongue and thumb every few seconds to show you the type of variety that had your toes curling. his groans against your pussy were the added vibration that kept your hips moving to meet his face.
“tastes so fuckin’ sweet,” he grunted, his eyes closed. “can’t wait to stuff my cock in there.”
“don’t be mean to me, billy,” you gasped. “i want to feel your cock so bad, please…”
“no, baby,” he refused. “not until i make you feel good. you want my cock? yeah, well — you know what i want.”
you whined in frustration at his words — his words, the addition of what was making the heat and pressure build, and build, and build inside you until you were a sobbing mess on the bed.
“that’s it, sweetheart — give in,” he gasped. “i wanna know how good i’m making you feel.”
his voice was so husky it was taking over all of your senses. you hung onto every word as he led you closer and closer to what was your tipping point. he was stretching you so taut — like a string, ready to snap. when he suddenly pulled his hand away, you barely noticed it — until he replaced it with his cock.
you gasped at what came next.
first it was your legs — they immediately began to shake uncontrollably. the immense pressure started at your curled toes, your stretched feet, and worked its way up all the way to your shaking calves and thighs. the warmth coaxed your hips into a soft roll as you rode out your orgasm — blinded by the ecstasy of it all.
you immediately grabbed onto billy for dear life as all of your senses fucking swam. it was wave, after wave, after wave that hit you, arched your back towards the ceiling, and left you fucking breathless. your mouth fell open instantly, parted as whines and soft moans left and filled the open air of your bedroom.
and what did billy do? he grabbed you by the chin, still rutting his hips against yours, and spit in your fucking mouth.
“swallow,” he ordered, eyes boring down into yours.
you gasped as you understood his command, and like the good girl you were — you did as you were told.
“good girl,” he whispered from above you, stroking your chin.
you sucked in a sharp breath of air as you tried to regain your senses. you hoisted yourself back into your elbows, trying to focus — but it was just so hard. your pussy was so, so sensitive and it was like billy’s cock knew exactly out how to drag out your orgasm. you glanced up at billy, and realized your vision was blurry. shattered, fucked out beyond belief — you realized there were tears, literal tears in your eyes.
“no breaks for you, sweetheart,” he spoke, leaning over and holding your hips down. “need to make sure this pussy knows who she belongs to.”
your body refused to stop shaking — but it gave into every touch, caress, pull, and push from billy. you were his to use and you fucking relished in the feeling.
through your dark, thick, damp lashes, you glanced up at him. immediately, his bright, wild eyes connected with yours. there was no stopping the animal before you — not until he got his fix. the pure and pretty girl who always surprised the group with her skill was laying beneath him like a fucked out doll and he couldn’t get enough.
“please, billy,” you whined, biting down on your lip. “use my pussy just like that…”
“my fucking pussy,” he grunted.
“all yours, baby,” you gasped, laying victim to the curling warmth inside your womb once again. it was like an itch that needed to be scratched, and only billy could fix it. the idea of a second orgasm taunted you — teased you, until it was the only thing you could think about. you were close… so close… “billy, fuck — you’re going to make me — you’re gonna —“
“that’s it, baby, yeah —“ his thrusts were getting sloppier now as a light sheen of sweat lay across his forehead. the veins in his biceps and neck were protruding and his eyes were trained on your face. “bein’ so good f’me.”
“billy —“ you cried, tears coming to your eyes again. you reached for him, and brought him down to you. he held you by the back of the head and held your jaw in place with his thumb. through gritted teeth and wet eyes, you sobbed, “driving me fucking crazy.”
“yeah, yeah?” he taunted. “good. boutta make a mess of this fuckin’ pussy.”
with one last thrust, you curled into billy’s neck and cried. actually cried. he held you close to him as he continued to thrust inside of you — pressing fat, wet kisses to the side of your face. you were shaking in his hold, trying so desperately to hold onto reality — but it was slipping. it was slipping farther and farther away with every sweet word that billy ghosted over your ear.
“say you’re mine,” he ordered, with desperation in your voice. “say you’re mine, and i’ll cum.”
“i’m yours, billy,” you sobbed. “i’m yours. only yours.”
an animalistic groan left billy’s mouth as he tugged on your hair. he pulled your neck back and taut, shoving his face into the crook of your neck and biting down on your shoulder. his body pulsed one, two, three times as his orgasm overtook him and you. you were a weeping, crying mess and took everything that billy gave you.
he rut his cock into you a few more times as you both came down for your highs. billy was so commanding in bed — but after? nothing compared to how he was after. he pulled you into his lap, cock still inside you, and began peppering kisses all over your face. sweet nothings were whispered into your ear, but all you could do was whimper quietly in response. he laughed slightly in your ear, his breath ticking your sensitive skin, and dug his nose into your hairline.
“never getting rid of me now, sweet thing.”
- - -
would love to hear your thoughts :)
-L
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missmatchablossom · 25 days
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acting on every urge to annoy the fuck out of your boyfriend, satoru gojo
a/n: fluff, female reader, slightly suggestive scenes
tags: @kenqki @sad-darksoul
~
Gojo Satoru had an annoyingly nice ass - rounded, perky, enough to fill out all tight-fitting pants he liked to wear. And the perk about being his girlfriend was that you got to admire it all the time, which was exactly what you were doing. Gojo had his back to you as he sauted something on the stove for the dinner he was preparing for the two of you, blissfully unaware of the intrusive thoughts brewing in your head.
He somehow had a 6th sense for whenever you were about to smack his ass, always catching your hand right before it made contact. But you were feeling lucky today.
You launched up from your spot on the couch, running at him full speed as you wound your hand up and smacked it against his ass with more force than what you intended on using. Gojo jerked forward, grunting as the spatula that was in his hand fell to the floor. He snapped his head around to look at you with wide eyes and his jaw dropped in disbelief - but you were too busy laughing your ass off.
“Woman where the hell did that gorilla strength come from,” he said begrudgingly, rubbing his ass with both palms.
“Sorry,” you said, catching your breath in between laughs. “You’re just standing there all caked up, I couldn’t help myself.”
He rolled his eyes and shook his head, laughing along with you.
“When I pay you back though,” he began, stalking towards you. It happened so quickly, the way he bent you over so your hands were braced against the kitchen counter, your ass flush against his front.
“It’ll be in this position,” he said, giving your ass a squeeze before he released you like nothing happened, resuming his cooking.
~
Another blissful benefit of being Gojo’s girlfriend was that he liked to sleep in just his boxers. It was your nightly routine to cuddle up against his bare chest, pressing your cheek against his smooth skin and reveling in his sweet post-shower scent.
You trailed your nose along the skin of his collar like you usually did, squeezing against him as close as possible. He stroked your back absentmindedly as he scrolled through his phone, until the urge to bite him suddenly overtook you. You placed a light kiss over his shoulder before sinking your teeth into him.
Gojo let out a dramatic series of “ow, ow, OW”s as he backed away from you, sliding far into his side of the bed.
“The hell was that for?” he said, brows adorably furrowed in confusion at the grin on your face.
“Just for being cute and smelling so good,” you said, scooching closer to him again. He smiled at the compliment, but his brows remained scrunched up.
“Last time I checked you liked how cute and sexy smelling I was, so why are you punishing me for it,” he asked, so close to the edge of the bed that he’d fall off if he moved any further from you.
“It’s cute aggression. Think of it as love bites,” you said sweetly, wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his hips, trapping him.
“Should I be turned on or scared?” he joked, raising a perfect brow at you. You laughed as you smacked his shoulder.
“Neither. You should be honored. Think of each bite as me saying I love you,” you said, unable to keep a straight face.
Gojo easily freed himself of your grip, flipping so he was laying on top of you with the full weight of his body over yours the way you liked it.
“Kinky. But alright, if thats how you want to be loved then,” he said, before he bent his head down, nipping every inch of exposed skin he could access.
~
You had terrible blood circulation, resulting in a chronic state of frozen fingertips and toes. It was especially worse during the winter - and unfortunately for Gojo, it was an especially cold day.
You unlocked the door to your home, heart warming at the sight of Gojo cozied up in one of your favorite outfits of his: grey sweatpants and a fitted black longsleeve. He looked up from the game he was playing to welcome you home with a smile, beckoning you towards with him with outstretched arms.
You stripped off your outerlayers in record time, practically jumping into his warm embrace. You couldn’t help yourself as you slid your frigid fingers into his shirt, warming your hands against his abs. He hissed as soon as your hands made contact with his skin, tensing up while you sighed in relief at his warmth.
“Ah, so nice and warm,” you said airily, the feeling returning to your fingertips. Gojo mock-glared at you, but made no move to remove your hands.
“You just wanted an excuse to feel my abs huh,” he teased, flexing himself under your fingertips. You rolled your eyes as you laughed, removing your hands from under his shirt.
He reached out towards you, tugging you into his lap as he wrapped both of you in a blanket.
“If your hands are still cold I have something big and warm you can ho-” he began, but he froze as soon as you pressed your frigid toes against the warm skin of his calves.
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lunamugetsu · 4 months
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Delivery!
Flash was currently being held captive in a black of ice. How he got like this he wasn't sure. All he remembered was that he was running across Central City keeping the peace until suddenly an ice beam shot out of nowhere and froze his feat to the ground.... and the rest of him.
"Alright you got me! Show your face!"
"Well I was going to regardless. No need to yell." Out pops Danny Phantom carrying a bag with him and holding out an envelope.
"What? Who are you?"
"My name's Phantom. Danny Phantom. I have a message for you. I couldn't get your attention earlier so I thought this was just the next best way to get you to stop." Danny said as he unfreezes the speedster.
"Uh, okay." Flash said as Danny gives him an envelope.
On the envelope there are drawing in crayon and stickers and in marker it says: to Flash.
"It's from Susie, she'd said you'd remember her."
He remembered a Susie, a little girl that he used to see in the children's hospital. She had leukemia. He spent any minute he could making sure the kid was smiling when he was there. He was heartbroken when the nurses told him that she had passed away before he could give her her birthday present. Flash examined the crayon written words, it was just like Susie's writing.
"How did you?"
"Just read it."
The letter reads:
Dear Flash,
I'm sorry, I wasn't there when you showed up for my birthday. I never got to tell you, but thank you for being at the hospital with me when I was scared of going to treatment or when I had to take my medicine. Thank you for making me smile even when I didn't feel well. Thank you for playing games with me when I couldn't go outside. Thank you for talking to my mom and dad at my funeral. That was really nice. I drew some pictures for you but I never got to finish them when I was in the hospital so I drew you some new ones. Danny says that he'll give them to you.
In the envelope was a series of different colored papers all with different crayon and marker drawings of Susie and him playing in different scenarios. One where she was a doctor and he played the injured patient. One where they were both superheroes. Another one where they were playing shadow puppets when she wasn't feeling well. Page after page were different drawings of them playing with the last one was covered in glitter with a big heart with a crayon drawing of him and Susie.
"Susie said that her biggest regret was that she couldn't say thank you to her hero before she passed. So I bumped her up on my delivery list."
"What?"
"Oh yeah, I never fully introduced myself. I'm Danny Phantom, you can call me Danny. I'm the designated delivery person for the afterlife to the living realm. Any messages or special requests from the dead are delivered by me!" Danny hands him a business card all official.
And it does say: Danny Phantom special delivery service for those of the non-living variety!
"She also said she wanted to give you one last hug before moving on."
"What do you?" Flash is halted from saying anything else as he feels a pressure against his legs. He looks down to see a translucent small figure. She was a picture of what she looked like before the chemo. Susie gives him a smile and a hug before fading before his eyes.
Before Danny officially takes up the mantle of Ghost King he's trying to do a job that would have him interact with all of his citizens first so he could get a feel of it. Hence him making connections with both the living and non-living people (he went big-brain for this idea)
Extra scene:
"Oh that reminds me, I have a card for you from someone else."
"A card?" Flash opens the card only to get sucker-punched in the face. (like one of those cartoon boxing glove punches)
"A punch card." Danny said
Flash groans as he looks at the card that has the words: STOP MESSING WITH TIME! from CW
Obligatory Gotham Scene:
Danny standing in front of a beaten up Joker that has been tied to a chair.
"Just so you know I have a back order of a lot special requests for you. And since I can't exactly kill you, that would create so much political tape. I can let them make requests for certain actions. So right now I have over 50 requests for me to break your legs and over 30 to pull out your teeth and break your jaw. Some of them contradict each other because they want to make every word you say hurt you but others want me to curse you so you can't speak again. So I'll just have to get creative." Danny says winding his arm back and form.
He is for sure being completely professional about, he gets no personal gratification from beating up a crazy clown at all. (said nobody ever)
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utahimeow · 2 months
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“kenma?”
“hmm?”
he doesn’t take his eyes off the tv screen where he shoots at enemies left and right, but his ears are all yours.
“who was your first kiss?”
it’s become a habit of yours to watch his fingers move on the controller, long and thin and dexterous, wondering how he manages to move them in such a swift manner that to you seems impossible.
“didn’t have one,” he says, blunt.
“ever?”
“ever.”
“how?” you ask, both surprised and not—though now that you think about it, through all the years you’ve known him, he probably would have told you if he had.
“all i did in middle and high school was play volleyball and game. didn’t have time to kiss anyone. also didn’t care about it,” he admits.
you suppose if he wasn’t with you or kuroo, he was at home, playing video games. but there was that little obsession of his with shoyo hinata… so you guess it wasn’t a crush after all.
there’s only an ounce of hesitation behind what you say next, because yes, kenma’s your best friend and this could change the trajectory of your entire relationship with him, but also it’s kenma. kenma who you’ve shared a bed and clothes with, kenma who’s seen you at rock bottom and who’s wiped your snot and tears away when you were at your lowest, kenma who you’re attached at the hip with.
“what if i was your first kiss?”
kenma doesn’t falter at your words, not even for a second as he plays on expertly, nonchalant as always.
“uhh, why?” he asks, and you’re triumphant. if it was a ‘ew, no, what the fuck?’ then that’s how you’d know you fucked up. but it’s not.
“it kinda makes sense for me to be your first. also, i just wanna know what it’s like to kiss you,” you admit, shrugging your shoulders.
the next few moments are full of nothing but controller sounds and the music from the video game on the tv. in the faint glow that radiates from the screen, you make out a tiny dusting of pink on kenma’s pale cheeks.
eventually he gulps. then, “can we drink first?”
your mouth falls open with an insulted gasp and you have half a mind to smack him over the head.
“if you think i’m ugly you can say that, kozume,” you pout, crossing your arms.
“it’s not because i think you’re ugly, dumbass.”
“then why do you need to be drunk to kiss me?!”
kenma is silent again. he doesn’t have to look at you to know you’re staring at him utterly indignantly.
“because i’m too scared to look you in the eyes right now.”
oh.
now you get it.
kenma kozume is such a virgin. and you want him so incredibly badly. in fact you have to restrain yourself from jumping into his lap and kissing him until he can’t think straight.
instead you slide off the couch and head towards his fridge, grab two bottles of asahi and the bottle opener from the utensil drawer before padding back over to the couch, sitting an inch or two closer to kenma than you were before.
you click one bottle open for him, then one for yourself, then without a hint of hesitation you take a confident swig until you’re near chugging the drink.
“chill,” kenma says, side-eyeing you after taking a swig from his own bottle. “don’t want you pulling a himeno on me.”
you let out a noise that’s half-scoff and half-laugh, smacking at his arm. “don’t joke about that. that scene was traumatic.”
two bottles of beer later, kenma’s in-game reflexes start to waver. he’s no longer as sharp as usual, though his tipsy state still trumps the skills of an average player. meanwhile, your head floats with the buzz of alcohol—well, it hovers.
“kenmaaa,” you whine, shaking his arm, when all of a sudden his character is shot to death and the screen pauses as if to deliberately rub his defeat in his face. you stifle a giggle while he runs his hands over his face, though you’re pretty sure it’s not because he lost.
“what?” he asks, but he fails at conveying any real irritation towards you. his voice is small, frail almost.
“i wanna kiss you,” you say. your fingers still cling to the fabric of his hoodie sleeve. kenma’s entire body burns from it. he’s so fucked.
“okay, fine,” he says, turning his body to finally face you and criss-crossing his legs on the couch. “this feels awkward though, how are we-”
and you’ve waited long enough for this, and the alcohol that buzzes through your system makes you throw all your morals out the window, and you’re grabbing him by fistfuls of his hoodie and dragging him towards you until your lips smash—literally—together, and finally he shuts up.
you’re not sure what overcomes you, but you’re kissing him like you’re hungry, not quite ravaging him, but years of yearning deep inside of you bubbles to the surface and fills you with desperation.
also, you’re tipsy.
it’s not long before you come back to your senses a little and remind yourself that this is just his first kiss. go easy on him, maybe?
you move away, slowly, as though trying not to startle him, to find a pair of golden feline eyes blinking back at you. they’re swimming with something unintelligible, something akin to… need? you think you must be seeing things. you’re tipsy, after all.
the silence that hangs over the pair of you is heavy—too heavy. it hurts your shoulders. you laugh so that it goes away, covering your face as though kenma’s timidness was contagious and has now spread to you.
eventually, when you peer back up at him, he’s grinning almost… triumphantly. despite the blush that covers his entire face, he looks victorious. his face replaces any words he could say, and he turns back to his game without a word.
you, however, struggle to keep your thoughts to yourself.
“can we do that more often?” you ask, leaning your frame against his, nuzzling your face into his warmth.
“yeah, we can.”
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sundrop-writes · 3 months
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Meddle About
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Sub!Spencer Reid x Dom!Fem!Reader
‘Cause it's not just a figure of speech - you got me down on my knees.
It's gettin' harder to b r e a t h e .
Summary:
You hate it when Morgan teases Reid. So when Morgan says that you are Reid's 'Mommy' - you verbally fire back without even thinking about it.
Reid vastly overthinks it.
So much so that he ends up calling you Mommy by mistake. And you definitely don't hate the sound of that word coming off his lips.
Sub!Spencer Reid x Dom!Fem!Reader. Co-Workers to Lovers. Smut. Set during Season One.
Word Count: 6,300
Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link
Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.
Warnings: general smut fic - porn with some plot; dom/sub dynamics (but this isn't a pre-discussed dom/sub relationship, the characters just fall into these roles naturally), Spencer is submissive and the reader is dominant; the main theme is Mommy kink - Spencer discovers that he has a Mommy kink after a joke that Morgan makes, referring to the reader character as Spencer's Mommy; Spencer calls the reader 'Mommy' and the reader also refers to herself with that title; the reader uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina (and breasts); it could be interpreted that the reader has larger breasts/is plus sized (but I think anyone of any size could enjoy this fic); the reader is part of the BAU; this is meant to take place during season one (baby Spence my beloved) but there are no other major canon events mentioned and the case being discussed is one that I have made up; some very background typical elements of Criminal Minds - murder, killing, systemic vicimization of women/violence from men towards women (passing mention of bodies being consumed by wild animals); the reader and Spencer fuck while on a case (but they aren't endangering anyone's lives from lack of their attention, so it's fine); mentions of potential injuries from a car accident (theoretical - doesn't actually happen during the fic); very slight threads of Morgan x Reader (mentions of Morgan being attracted to the reader - it could be one-sided); very passing mention of Reid having breeding kink (doesn't take place during the fic, just one of his thoughts); for the actual smut section: this could be interpreted as virgin!Spencer but that's not explicitly stated here (at most, this is just inexperienced!Spencer) (the reader is definitely way more sexually experienced than him); praise kink (we all known Spencer is so eager to be praised); mentions of breastfeeding - Morgan makes a joke about the reader breastfeeding Reid, which later turns into faux breastfeeding kink (the reader doesn't actually lactate, but she lets Spencer suck on her tits and calls it breastfeeding); the reader calls Spencer: 'baby', 'good boy',; descriptions of subspace - but it's not specifically called 'subspace' in the text; thigh humping - Spencer humps the reader's thigh; cumming in pants (Spencer); multiple orgasms/overstimulation (Spencer receiving); handjob - the reader jacks Spencer off while he is sensitive after his first orgasm; using lube as cum; dumbification kink - the reader calls Spencer 'dumb baby' and generally enjoys seeing his intellect drop the more turned on he becomes (Spencer also likes being called this); technically the reader doesn't get to cum, but she gets turned on from treating Spencer like the good boy that he is (and this is more about him). I think that's everything.
A/N: This was directly inspired by the scene from Reid's birthday party, where Morgan says 'Mommy to the rescue!' (talking about JJ) and then Spencer says '...Mommy?' and it seems like he is discovering his Mommy kink in real time. Especially because he is then trapped between Elle and JJ and he makes direct eye contact with their boobs, and he just has such a look of scared kink realization in his eyes. I considered copying that moment exactly and just replacing JJ with the reader character, but this seemed like more fun lmao. I had so much fun writing this and I think this is one of my best fics in a while. I hope you guys enjoy it!!
...
Generally, you hated being stuck with grunt work. 
You knew that it was all part of the job - an important part of it. Paperwork, side interviews, background checks. Sifting through someone’s apartment looking for aspects of what kind of person they were based on their everyday life. 
But you thrived more on being right in the middle of things. You preferred interacting with suspects, chasing people down, harsh confrontation. 
Gideon said that you were overly controlling, impatient, brutally honest - that you had an ‘abrasive personality’ that put most men off. But that was why he often brought you into interrogations with male suspects. Many of the people you caught - men with superiority complexes who targeted the weak to make themselves feel powerful - they hated that you weren’t intimidated by them. That aspect of abrasion between you and the suspects often brought out a lot of information - things they spewed out trying to intimidate you. 
But you weren’t needed on that front today. 
No - instead, you were doing grunt work. The kind of work that made you impatient and generally aggravated. 
The only upside was that you got to do it with Spencer. 
He was one of the only men that voluntarily worked so closely with you so often, because he wasn’t intimidated by you. He took orders from you very well and naturally fell under your authority, bringing a natural chemistry to your partnership when you worked with him. Plus - his seemingly endless stream of ‘fun facts’ was like listening to the radio, which did help to soothe your boredom during these kinds of mindless tasks. 
You were on a case in Texas. Five women raped and tortured before having their bodies hung from a tree and consumed by cotoyes that the UnSub knew lived in the area. Since police had closed in on him, he had gone on the run. He had killed three more women since fleeing, while leaving no clues as to what his ultimate endgame would be or where he would be going next. 
Hotch sent you and Reid to find that out while the rest of the team worked victimology and profiled the scenes of the most recent murders, following the trail he was leaving. 
After spending hours sifting through the suspect’s house, looking for any small clue about where he might be going - you came up empty. When you touched base with Hotch, he told you that you and Reid would be going to visit the suspect’s ex-wife - who lived four hours away. You needed to interview her to see if she could give you any further insight to the man, and perhaps - beat him to the house if she was the ultimate target. 
(A lot of the victims looked like her, and it couldn’t really be a coincidence.) 
You knew that lives were at risk, and it was juvenile of you, but all you heard was: long, boring drive. Boring day. You hoped that Reid would be good company through it. 
Now, you were waiting outside of the police station in the bureau-issued SUV, waiting for Morgan to come and give you the file with the ex-wife’s address and contact information. 
“Did you know that over forty-six percent of Texans own a gun? Texas is second only to Montana in registered gun ownership, where over sixty-six percent of citizens proudly tote their right to bear arms.” Reid told you, continuing to look over the case files that were sitting in his lap. 
When you looked over toward him to reply to this odd factoid, your mind got caught up on something else. 
“Reid, come on, take your feet off the dashboard!” You told him, reaching over to gently smack his knee, trying to encourage his legs down from the awkward position. 
It bothered you for several reasons - the idea that he would leave shoe prints on the dashboard, which was minor and cosmetic, but still annoying. And the fact that if the car did happen to get hit head-on, the air-bag would explode out and push his knees into his chest, causing his shattered leg bones to pierce his organs and possibly kill him. (At the very least, he would never walk again.) 
Speaking of which: 
“And put your seatbelt on!” You barked, now noticing that he wasn’t wearing it past all of the files he had piled into his lap. “You of all people should know how many deaths are caused by not wearing a seatbelt.” 
Spencer opened his mouth to spout out this exact statistic, but before he could get the words out, another voice entered the conversation. 
“Aw, Reid, listen to your Mommy.” 
You were almost startled by Morgan’s voice coming from the open driver’s side window so suddenly. His appearance there as if out of nowhere was so jarring that you couldn’t get caught up on the way he had called you Reid’s Mommy. Your head whipped toward Morgan so quickly that you didn’t notice the flash across Spencer’s features - worry, dawning. You didn’t take note of the way he rushed to comply with putting on his seatbelt. As if he was rushing to please you, even unconsciously. 
“I bet if you’re a good boy, she might even breastfeed you when you get there.” 
Morgan then pursed his lips and made loudly suckling noises, clearly imitating breastfeeding in what he thought was a comedic way. 
Again - glaring at the muscled man through the open window, you didn’t see Spencer’s reaction. You didn’t see the way his large, glassy eyes flickered to your breasts (only emphasized by your own seatbelt crossed over the center of your chest) before he forced himself to focus on the files in front of him so that he wouldn’t feel so caught.
“Shut up.” You told Morgan, your voice so commanding and firm that his simple order was enough to get him to stop his antics. 
“And give me the address already.” You held out your hand expectantly, and Morgan handed you the file, which you placed onto the center console. 
Then, you turned back to him for one last point, determined to have the final word in the conversation. 
“Besides, we both know that you’re the one who’s got an obsession with my breasts, anyway. Just because you stare while wearing sunglasses, doesn’t mean I don’t notice. My eyes are up here, pal.” You told him sharply. 
He let out a scoff at this, and rolled his eyes behind his dark frames - but he made no clever comeback. 
You had successfully bested him. And with that knowledge, you rolled up the window and left him standing dumbly in the parking lot as you sped off. 
… 
You pulled over later to put the address into the GPS system, and you let out a long-winded groan when you found that it was more than four hours away. Four hours and twenty five minutes. 
So you pulled over again to get gas and stocked up on snacks, and you were surprised that Reid wasn’t giving you some lesson about the colloquial use of ‘soda’ and ‘pop’ (thinking that you hadn’t listened the other ten times when he had gone on the same rambling point about linguistics and how language evolves). 
He was being far too quiet for your liking. 
But he was keeping his eyes glued to the files, and you guessed that he was churning over something in that big brain of his, like he usually was. 
You were entirely surprised when the next time he spoke - it wasn’t about the case at all. 
“How - how do you know that Morgan likes your breasts?” He asked, his voice low and mousy, looking straight ahead as he fidgeted with his hands in his lap. 
“What?” You gaped, the word flying out of your mouth as your brain was utterly slow to process what he had just said. 
Hearing Spencer use the word ‘breasts’ was jarring, but somehow utterly adorable. You found it stirring a slight heat within you. Especially because he was still so shy. The whole thing made you want to pin him down and force the shyness out of him. 
Spencer felt the need to further explain himself. 
“When - when you were talking to him, you said: ‘we both know that you’re the one who’s got an obsession with my breasts.’” He said, repeating back what you had said, word for word, using that perfect memory of his. 
You wondered if that’s what he had been doing, sitting there in his seat so silently for the past hour of the car ride - going over the conversation again and again in his head, trying to make sense of it. And because he couldn’t make any sense of it by himself, now he was consulting you. 
Again, you found it so utterly adorable. 
“Morgan didn’t deny it. So - was it a hypothesis based on something, or did you just call him out hoping that you weren’t wrong?” Reid continued, sparing only a singular glance in your direction, a look that you caught out of the corner of your eye with your gaze still mostly focused ahead on the road. 
You found it intensely cute that he was using the word ‘hypothesis’ in this situation. You wondered if he ever turned it off - the textbook big words and the intellect that he always carried himself with. You wondered if you could make him turn it off. You wondered if there was any situation where Spencer Reid could be as stupid as any other man - chasing a bone, desperate to get his nut off. 
For the first time ever - you imagined Spencer Reid underneath you, blabbering nonsense, begging for release with your hand around his cock as you pumped him, red and aching, so slick in your palm. Desperate, empty-headed, beautifully stupid. 
(See, this was what happened when you were forced to do grunt work. You got bored. And when you got bored - you had to entertain yourself somehow.) 
“It was a pretty well-informed hypothesis.” You replied. Now that Spencer had brought the topic up, you certainly weren’t going to shy away from the discussion. “Morgan often brings up my sex life, and wants to engage in detailed discussions about my sexual encounters with me. So I assume that he spends a fair amount of time thinking about me in a sexual way.” 
Reid let out a choked-off noise at this. 
You continued. 
“Plus, he’s always staring down my top. He’s not exactly subtle.” 
“You - you actually notice that kind of thing?” He chirped, his voice becoming a few octaves higher as worry flooded him. 
You bit your lip, suppressing a grin. 
Of course, you had noticed the times that Spencer stared at your breasts as well. He was even less subtle about it than Morgan was. You didn’t mind it when he did it, because you knew that Spencer wasn’t exactly casanova. He didn’t have a different girl every other week like Morgan did, so taking a glance down your shirt when he passed you a morning coffee was probably about as much action as he got. 
Secretly, letting him get away with it was your gift to him. 
“Don’t worry about it, baby.” You told him, the pet name slipping out mindlessly as you reached over and gently patted his knee as a form of reassurance. 
This movement unintentionally drew his eyes toward your chest, especially in his desperation to look anywhere but your face, not wanting to make eye contact with you. But he found his eyes glued to the swell of your breasts once again - hating how perfect they looked, even through the simple cotton shirt and plain bra that you wore. 
“Sorry, Mommy.” The word slipped out before he could even consciously process it. “Sorry!” 
Spencer raised a hand to smack his own face at lightning speed, and slumped down into his seat in embarrassment. 
You bit your lip to suppress a grin. It stirred a filthy heat in your belly. But you knew that Spencer likely needed a while to sit with this and wouldn’t want to talk about it - not yet. So you reached over and turned on the radio, letting the music fill the space so that the silence wasn’t so awkward and gutting. 
Spencer didn’t talk for the entirety of the rest of the car ride, which didn’t surprise you. 
When you finally arrived at the ex-wife’s house, his hands were shaking with nerves as he tried to unlatch his seatbelt. You probably should have just left him alone to struggle, but an evil spark, likely fueled by the boredom of the day, flared up inside of you. You couldn’t resist the urge to lean over the console, very purposefully showing off your breasts as you gently pushed his hands away and undid the belt for him. 
“Here, let Mommy get that for you.” You said, distinct teasing on your breath as you mumbled the words into his ear. 
Spencer huffed out a deep sigh and collapsed back into his seat, and pushed his hair out of his face in frustration. But he didn’t say anything more as you gathered the files in preparation for the interview. 
He only spoke when you moved to get out of the car. 
“Look, I-” He began a half assed explanation, and you easily cut him off. 
“You let Morgan get in your head too much.” You told him with a chuckle, opening your door and getting out. 
But as he forced himself to follow you with numb limbs - he knew that this definitely wasn’t all Morgan’s fault. 
… 
The ex-wife didn’t know much. 
She described the marriage as hell - the suspect exhibited all the typical behaviors as a husband that they would have expected. He hated women, and he wanted full control over his wife at the time, which eventually led down the path of divorce. They had to sell the house they had bought together, but neither of them had moved out of Texas since. But he hadn’t contacted her in years. 
She had two young kids from a new relationship, and when the woman stepped out to take a call, you picked one of them up to soothe his cries, hushing him gently while you rubbed his back. 
Because of this, Spencer found himself even more dizzy and confused. 
He knew that it was Frueadian - some deep, misguided part of his psychology - something broken and missing inside of him because of his own fractured childhood. 
But seeing you being so sweet with a kid, especially after the day he’d had - he wasn’t sure if he wanted to be your baby, or if he wanted to shoot his cum so deep inside you that it would ensure he could give you one. 
(Ultimately, he knew that it was likely both - and that didn’t answer any questions for him. It just gave him far more questions.) 
… 
Even though the ex-wife couldn’t give you guys much more than you already knew, Hotch wanted you and Spencer to stay close by in case the suspect decided to make his ex-wife the end game. The two of you would be able to make it to her first if she called for help. 
So you and Spencer had dinner at a random local barbeque place off the highway and Spencer still didn’t talk much through it, other than posing some theories about the case. Even though he was a bit more talkative, he still refused to look at you - he stared down at his plate the whole time. Though whenever he did look up, you noticed that his eyes lingered on your chest - and he still wouldn’t look you in the eye. 
By the time the bill came around and the two of you were ready to leave, you knew exactly what you had to do. 
… 
Spencer waited by the car with his bag while you checked in and got a motel room (needing to stay in town, you got a room for the night). When you came back, you handed him the room key and then moved to get your bag out of the car. 
“Do… you already have yours?” He asked quietly. 
“Hmm?” You hummed in reply, slinging the strap of your go-bag over your shoulder before you closed the back door and used the remote to lock up the car. 
“Your room key?” 
You suppressed another grin. 
“I only got one room.” You told him. “You don’t mind sharing with me, right?” 
You gave him a purposeful look - looked at him through your lashes, bit your lip slightly, and subtly squeezed your breasts together with your upper arms, emphasizing them. You knew exactly what you were doing to him, but hopefully it seemed subtle. 
“I - uh - no.” Spencer stuttered. “It’s fine. We can share.” He gave a grin, not wanting to appear upset, even though his entire body was racked with nerves. 
Spencer followed you to the room and he fumbled with the key with shaking hands for a moment before he sighed and then handed it to you. 
His insides quaked when he saw that there was only one bed. 
He wasn’t sure if he should say anything about it. The two of you had slept in the same room before, but you had never shared a bed before. Sure, you had slept near each other before. He had accidentally fallen asleep on your shoulder on the plane or vice versa. But you had never crawled into bed together with the intention of sleeping together. 
And yes, just the entendre behind it made Reid’s head spin. 
He had a heavy knot in his gut, and hatefully - a distinct stirring in his crotch. He could only imagine how embarrassing it would be for you to wake up and see him compromised in some way. Or god forbid, if you caught him moaning in his sleep because of unconscious dreams that he couldn’t stop - for you to think that he was some kind of dirty sex pervert because of it. 
He felt an overwhelming need to clear the air overtake him. He had no clue how to broach the subject, but he knew that he wouldn’t be able to spend the night like this. He wouldn’t be able to sleep with this anxiety hanging over his head. 
He studied you carefully as you sat down on the edge of the bed, ditching your bag off to the side and heaving out a tired sigh as you began taking off your shoes. 
Spencer put down his own bag and then stood there, fidgeting nervously as he searched for words. 
“I - uh - I am sorry about earlier.” He mumbled out the beginnings of an apology. “What Morgan said was stupid, and I-” 
“I don’t think it was stupid.” 
You let out a chuckle, and reached up the back of your shirt. Spencer found himself frozen, his eyes tracing your every moment as you unhooked your bra underneath your shirt and then moved to maneuver the straps out from your short sleeves while you kept talking. 
“I think he had a point.” You added on. “Good boys should get a reward. And I think you were fairly good today. You didn’t eat all your veggies at dinner, but you kept your feet off the dashboard and you were quiet during the car ride. You definitely get points for being patient during such a long trip, baby.” 
Your voice smoothed into a soothing tone, that word - baby - melting like butter over your tongue in a way that made Spencer’s knees wobble. He hadn’t known it until right now, but you calling him a ‘good boy’ and listing off such mundane things he had done that made him worthy of a reward fired off sparks inside of his brain. 
A breath choked off inside of his throat as you stood up off the bed and peeled your bra completely out from under your shirt. Somehow it was one of the sexiest things he had ever seen, revealing the hard peaks of your nipples and the beautiful natural teardrop shape of your breasts to him through the cotton fabric. 
Spencer wanted to speak, but his tongue felt so heavy and dry inside of his mouth. He knew that he was staring at your chest so blatantly now, but he couldn’t peel his eyes away. He couldn’t even feel ashamed anymore. 
That dull tingle in his crotch had turned into a full on stinging interest, and he unconsciously pulled at the fabric of his pants, trying to loosen some of the tension that was growing, not even considering how it might look to you - him dumbly reaching for his crotch to make it look looser when his hardening bulge was becoming more obvious by the second. 
It was one of the most ‘caveman’ things he had ever done in front of you - standing there with his mouth hanging slightly agape, pulling at his crotch without caring how it looked. You definitely wanted more, wanted to see how dumb he could get. How far you could make him devolve. 
“So what do you say, baby boy?” You hummed, stepping close into his personal space now, causing him to get a whiff of your perfume - something that was only a dull trace after such a long day, but still smelled so good. “Do you want Mommy to breastfeed you? Do you wanna suck on my tits as your reward?” 
You gently ran a thumb across his cheek, and paired with the words, Spencer’s brain short-circuited. 
He knew realistically that you weren’t actually offering to breastfeed him. There was no evidence in your life to say that your body could actually support the production of milk currently - but you were offering to let him play pretend. To suck on your tits with a very sexual air, to call you Mommy without the teasing humiliation behind it that Morgan had hinted at (or maybe Spencer liked that humiliation, he wasn’t even sure). (He hadn’t even known before this morning that he liked the idea of calling you Mommy, but here he was). 
All he could conjure in response was the dumbest, non-human sound. 
“Nngh.” 
It was a grunt from the back of his throat - too much blood swelling to his cock all at once and too much direct attention from you making him dizzy. 
You giggled quietly. 
“Come on, baby. Just say the word. And Mommy will give you everything you need.” 
Spencer inhaled sharply. At this point, he was desperate to get some oxygen to his brain. 
His mind was racing, chanting out: 
‘Yes! God, yes! I want it so badly, Mommy! I want anything you’ll give me. I need you. I need you so badly.’ 
But all his lips could form in the wake of such dizzying lust was: 
“Please.” 
“Good boy.” You sighed. 
You used a hand on his chin to tilt his face up to meet yours, and you consumed him in a kiss - he was hungry and eager to meet your touch, moaning loudly into your mouth, his hands racing to touch you now, rushing up to grip on your hips in the most utterly needy way. He balled the fabric of your shirt in his fists, like he couldn’t get enough of you - like he was afraid you would dissolve away if he let go of you for even a second. 
It was cute, to say the least. 
You only let the kiss last for a moment, though. You pulled away to a disappointed whine from Spencer, which you quietly hushed. 
“Hey, it’s okay baby.” You soothed him. “Come here. Mommy’s gonna take good care of you.” 
You lead him toward the bed, getting rid of his tie in the process, and Spencer stepped out of his shoes along the way. You slid onto the bed and laid up on the pillows on your back, Spencer clumsily following you, crawling on all fours. The two of you had barely started, but he was full-on panting now, racing to catch his breath while his blood hammered through his veins. 
He watched on with eager curiosity while you got comfortable, fluffing the pillow under your head before you then reached down and pulled up your shirt. You pulled the fabric to sit up under your chin, finally revealing your gorgeous breasts to him. 
If he was lost for words before, then he had receded back to a total neanderthal now. 
His mouth fell open and his salivary glands started working overtime as his eyes raked hungrily over your chest - enjoying the pure beauty of the fatty mounds, striped with zig-zagging stretch marks and completed by your hard peaked nipples. 
“Here, come on, baby.” 
You had to remind Spencer what the goal was, guiding him into place with a hand on the back of his head. You helped ease his body to lay on top of yours as he relaxed into you - and his mouth finally found its rightful place on your breast. He became greedy, suctioning hard on your nipple as though he might actually get something out of it. 
Truthfully, he did get something out of this. 
It definitely wasn’t any form of nutrition, but it was something that drove him lustfully insane and made his head fuzzy and warm in the best way. This was the only time in his entire life that he didn’t have ten thousand thoughts running through his mind like the news blasting on television in the background. This was the only time since his first conscious memory that he had actually known his mind to be quiet. 
He felt intensely thankful for it. Intensely thankful toward you for giving him this feeling. 
In that moment, without all the noise, all he knew was the comforting feeling of your fat tit under his mouth, the heat of your body under his own as you cradled him. The soothing firmness of your hands through his hair and down his back - and the distant, sweet purring of your voice in his ears. 
“Good boy.” You hummed, loving the feeling of him moaning around your nipple - so constant and so greedy now that you were sure he didn’t even know that he was doing it. “Such a good boy for me. Such a good boy for Mommy.” 
Your cunt was humming between your thighs, aching so hard at seeing Spencer like this. The usually composed, intelligent, practically robotic Doctor Reid reduced down to a blubbering, moaning, needy mess just because he wanted to suck on your tits. 
Just because you had called yourself Mommy a few times in his presence. 
It was so utterly beautiful, and you wanted more. 
(You didn’t think that you could ever let him go after this. You probably wouldn’t be able to stand the idea of another woman touching him after this. But you would have to think on that more later.) 
You noticed Spencer canting his hips, unconsciously seeking friction against his hard cock while he continued to suck on your breast. With his eyes closed blissfully, drool gathering around his lips where they met your skin in the most utterly adorable way. You couldn’t help yourself - you scooted your knee between his thighs. You then used a hand to help his hips into place, adjusting him so that he was getting good friction against your denim-clad thigh. 
“There you go. There you go, sweet boy.” You hummed, feeling another jolt through your body when he let out a sharper moan against your tit, and began humping your leg in earnest. 
You were quick to encourage him, putting both hands on his hips and helping him along while he greedily hung onto you. He had on your hip, the other hand slipping up to cup fingers around the bottom of your breast, making sure you didn’t escape him while he moved his body against you so frantically. 
“That’s just what you needed, isn’t it, baby?” You moaned out, your voice wavering slightly as the pleasure of it all thrummed through you. “Just a dumb little baby who needed Mommy’s tit.” 
The term ‘dumb little baby’ came flying out of your mouth before you could stop it. Though you knew exactly why it happened. Seeing such a brilliant genius reduced down to this truly did something to your ego. And apparently hearing those words from you did something to him, too. 
He whined sharply against your skin and his hips stuttered abruptly. You knew it wouldn’t be long before he came in his pants, his cock throbbing against the friction of your thigh. And this thought alone caused your mouth to run off without restraint. 
“Such a needy little thing.” You sighed. “You love being Mommy’s dumb baby, don’t you? Not a single fucking thought between your ears, just sucking on Mommy’s tit without a care in the world.” 
Spencer moaned and it sent another jolt through your body - another harsh pang through your cunt. You loved how much he needed you. You loved how much he was clearly eating this up. 
You didn’t even care if you got to cum tonight; you just wanted to exhaust him for all he was worth. Because he was so fucking pretty like this. 
“You gonna cum for me, baby boy? You gonna cum for Mommy? Come on, baby. Cum for me.” 
These words were what ultimately sent him over the edge. Well that along with your strong hands on his hips, encouraging him along while he was mindless and busy mouthing on your breast.
His jaw dropped open, finally loosening that desperate suction on your now slightly sore nipple as he began to pant frantically over your now spit-soaked skin. He moaned hotly while he humped you in an entirely adorable, almost distraught manner - absolutely desperate to have the most friction on his cock while his orgasm overtook him. 
You could feel his needy cock throbbing against you, trapped inside of his pants, shooting off hot ropes of cum that quickly soaked into his underwear and even then, seeped into the fabric of his slacks. You grinned and bit your lip as you felt that wetness even beginning to soak into your jeans, knowing he must have set off quite a big load. 
Spencer soon collapsed on top of you, gulping in air as he tried to catch his breath. 
Any normal person would have taken pity on him (seeing as he was clearly nervous and inexperienced) and wound things down to end the night here. Anyone else would have likely let him rest. 
But again, you felt devilish temptation overtake you. (It was a feeling that seemed to be much more ripe around Spencer Reid.) 
You just felt thankful that your temptation and inclination toward chaos came in the form of lust, rather than something more violent, like the people you studied every single day. Everyone around you should be thankful for that. 
You used your leverage (and the fact that you weren’t nearly as exhausted from the experience) to flip him over onto his back. He let out a surprised sound as his back made contact with the mattress - blinking up at you with shocked, glassy eyes as you moved down his body slightly. 
“Wha-?” He mumbled out the question, only getting out part of the word before you reached for the zipper on the front of his now wet pants. 
“Hey, shh, baby. I just wanna see you.” You told him quietly, causing him to stare down the length of his own body at your hands as you worked. 
You got the button and zipper undone quickly and you let out a quiet ‘fuck’ as you peeled back the wet fabric of his grey slacks to reveal the sight of his simplistic (very Reid) white cotton underwear slightly transparent and stuck tight to his cock, coated in wet, sticky cum. 
“So pretty baby.” 
He only whined in response. 
You couldn’t help yourself - you reached up and pulled down the waistband of his underwear, feeling more lust pricking through you as he was truly revealed to your eyes. He was perfect. Glossy and wet with his own release, his cock pinky red from the exertion and friction, still half hard. You pulled the clothes down over his hips and he lifted his body to help you, clearly glad to be rid of the mess, and the second you untangled the fabric from his ankles and ditched everything aside, you were back on him. 
You skimmed the tips of your fingers oh-so-lightly up his shaft where it was sprawled across his pelvis, and his hips jolted. He let out a bitter gasp - as though cold water had been splashed across him. 
“You said-” He choked on the words as you ran your thumb right underneath the crown, gently pressing into the head, causing him to choke on a moan while his knees quaked. 
You sat on his knees to keep him still and his head became so fuzzy once again. 
‘You said that you only wanted to look.’ 
The sentence died off in his lungs somewhere, and truthfully - he didn’t want to protest. He didn’t want you to stop. 
“Sens-sensitive.” He whined. “Too much.” 
“But you’re so pretty, baby.” You replied, your voice turning smooth and warm like butter again, melting over his whole body, causing all of his muscles to go soft and pliant for you. “Your cock is so pretty. I need to touch you.” 
He let out another strangled noise when you cupped your hand and took him fully in your grip this time, giving one good tug across his cock from root to tip. When you did this again, faster this time, his lungs seized inside his chest - trying to take in oxygen so quickly, as though he were drowning on dry land. 
“You gonna be good for me, baby?” 
“Yes.” He gargled back in response. “Yes, Mommy.” 
He was already so wet from cumming in his pants, and he let out a pathetic dribble of precum as you continued to move your hand - so it was an easy, slick slide. One that sent harsh shockwaves through him from overstimulation. Against his own will, he soon ballooned back to full hardness - becoming painfully swollen in your hand while you sped up your touch and closed your fist tighter around him. It caused the most wonderful hurt between his legs, and made a downright filthy wet sound as you pumped your grip faster along his needy cock. 
Spencer heard wailing and felt the soreness against his throat before he realized that he was the one making those desperate sounds. He distantly wondered what it might sound like to someone else, if the rooms on either side were occupied, if the motel would receive a noise complaint about some frail woman getting fucked to death by her husband next door - because that’s what he sounded like in his own ears. 
But any of those half-thoughts were chased out of his brain the second you flicked your thumb up over the head of his cock and your dirty mouth filled his ears once again. 
“Gonna milk this pretty cock, baby.” You told him, your voice firm. “You gonna show Mommy how much you can cum for me? Gonna show me what a good boy you are?” 
Spencer let out another pathetic sound, his body singing with pleasure at his pure need to prove to you that - yes, he was a good boy. 
He felt tears wet on the side of his face before he realized that he was crying, but it was all too good to ask you to stop. 
You used your other hand to cradle his balls and you swooped down to capture his gasping mouth in another kiss (a very messy, open mouthed kiss that Spencer could barely pay attention to). Spencer screamed into your mouth while he painted his stomach with cum once again.
You only stopped jerking his cock once you had truly milked every last drop from him, his hips seizing up off the bed and your hand almost slipping off him completely from how sloppily wet it was with more of his cum added to the mix. 
He was purely exhausted then. His eyes blinked heavily, struggling to stay open. He vaguely remembered you cleaning him off and tucking him into bed - but he definitely enjoyed falling asleep curled up next to your warmth. 
The next morning, Spencer felt hungover. 
He wondered if that’s what good sex always felt like - the combination of endorphins rushing through your body and physical exertion tackling you over. His legs were sore, as though he had run several miles. (Which wasn’t even something he could make a bold comparison to anyway, because he didn’t exercise nearly as much as he should for someone with this job). He woke up starving, grateful when you drove to a diner down the road after checking out of the motel and planted him in one of the booths before going outside to call Hotch in order to touch base with the rest of the team. 
You came back with a small grin on your face. 
“Turns out that tip the ex-wife gave us about their first house in Arlington was pretty solid.” You told Reid. “They caught the guy on his way there. He had another girl in the trunk. They got her back mostly unarmed, and took him into custody.” 
Spencer nodded. “That’s good.” 
When he moved to grab another sugar packet out of the caddy on the side of the table, three of them already open and empty beside his cup of coffee, you grabbed him by the wrist. 
“That’s enough, baby.” You told him. 
His stomach curled, that distinct feeling running through him again. And against his will, that word slipped out - again. 
“Yes, Mommy.”
...
A/N: This is a standalone oneshot. There won't be a sequel or a continuation, so please do not ask for one. If you liked the fic, please comment about the body of work that has been written, or consider reblogging to show your appreciation. If you want to see more Spencer Reid fics that I have written, you can check out my Criminal Minds Masterlist, or you can check out my Masterlists for other fandoms to see if anything catches your eye. Thank you for reading!
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alexlwrites · 3 months
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𝑭𝒐𝒓𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒎𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒕
✿𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: Jungkook x Reader
✿ 𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚:  The one where everytime you get dumped you pretend that you never met the guy before to mess with their heads. To the point that if you run into them somewhere you reintroduce yourself and act like you’ve never seen each other before.
Enters fuckboy Jungkook who disappears after your night together, not knowing how much he was about to regret that choice.
✿ 𝑻𝒂𝒈𝒔:  Romance, Humor, Fluff, Angst, College AU
✿ 𝑨/𝑵: I’m truly sorry for this sad excuse of an update.
(Fanfic masterlist)
(support me on my ko-fi)
°•. ✿ .•°
𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨 - 𝐎𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐲, 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬
(<<< part one)
“I can’t believe you’re doing this again” Jane’s voice rang through the phone as you walked down the streets towards your desired coffee spot.
You also couldn’t believe you were doing that again. You tried your best to live your life with no regrets, but men made it very hard.
“Have you seen him since he fled the crime scene?”
“Stop calling it a crime scene” you snapped.
“Well, have you?”
Your silence was enough of an answer. No, you had not seen or heard from Jungkook since he ran away from your bedroom in the dead of night, leaving behind only the smell of cologne and, funnily enough, a single sock. When you woke up that day to an empty bed, sheets crumbled and a mattress indented on the side where he had slept, all you could muster was a tired sigh of disappointment. 
And to be completely honest, you were disappointed with yourself, not Jungkook. You expected nothing less than a quick escape of him. But you should’ve known better than to hope for anything. Despite everything, you were still an idealist at heart and you thought that maybe just this once…
You shook your head obstinately. You had learned early on that no good would come from moping around for men who would never once feel any regret for their thoughtless actions and if your pain were to be always one sided, then it was better not to feel any at all. Not to dwell on it, move on, learn from it and be better. Or be worse, sometimes, as self-improvement was not always your goal.
Sometimes, you chose to listen to the tiny revengeful angel on your shoulder - who kind of sounded like Taylor Swift - that screamed for violence and vindication.
As your failed relationships started to pile up, you did reach a point where you had to wonder if you were the problem, as it was the canonical event of all 20 something women. But observation, therapy, critical thinking and hereditary pettiness brought you to the decision that it was not, in fact, your fault. At least not all of it. 
With that in mind, you left only the smallest of time slots in your booked and busy schedule to ponder and grieve over the fickle nature of boys’ interests. You had better, more important things to do, such as mindlessly scroll through Minecraft/AITA videos and save pilates routines that you were never gonna do. 
Still, in an experience intrinsically feminine, you allowed yourself a little treat to cope with the slight burn of despondency in the back of your mind. 
And so you directed yourself to the bougie coffee house near campus, hoping to drown your sorrows with an aggressively sweet and overly caffeinated drink. 
“You should slash his tires”
“Jane, please, we have talked about this.”
“You should totally slash his fucking tires!"
"Saying it louder is not gonna make me agree with you! Jane…"
Suddenly your eyes found Jungkook's across the room filled to the brim with depressed, financially irresponsible students, making you pause and hold back the urge to curl your lips in distaste. It bothered you that even with scared eyes as big as saucers and hunched shoulders to appear smaller, Jungkook still managed to look good. 
But you knew better than to let him know how much his presence and pretty face annoyed you. Boys like Jungkook only cared about having an impact on people’s life, very rarely caring if it was good or bad. He wanted a reaction out of you and you learned better than to give those away so carelessly.
So you frowned and looked away, the words practiced on your lips as you said “Some guy is staring at me.”
Jane laughed loudly on the phone “You’re a psycho, you know that?”
“I don’t know who it is, Jane, some dude” you stole a quick glance at him, finding vengeful glee at his shocked expression.
“Send me a pic of his reaction, I’m posting it on TikTok.”
You continued playing your part, ignoring your sister’s interruptions as you usually did “Of course I’m carrying a taser, Jane, I’m not an animal…”
“I’ll give you 5 bucks to tase him.”
“You know what, this coffee is not even worth the visual harassment, God I hate men…”
You walked out of the coffee house, hand empty but with a fulfilled sick sense of accomplishment as you stepped out into the street with a shit-eating grin.
“I hope you know what you’re doing” Jane said and you could hear the smile in her voice. Out of your two sisters, Jane was never the one to tell you to not do something, preferring to let you make your own mistakes.
And boy, did you. 
You left your big, beautiful, tattooed mistake behind you, ready to move on to something less prone to disappointment, such as fictional men and your Stardew Valley husband “Dont worry” you told your sister “I don’t.”.
“What are you doing?” Jungkook asked, left eye twitching slightly at your unbothered expression.
After your confusing exit from the coffee shop and a good amount of jabs from his friends, Jungkook had to hunt you down across campus, finding you sitting under a tree with a book in your hands, looking way too peaceful for someone who just had humiliated him.
You looked down at your book with an arched eyebrow “Kegels, clearly. Why?”
“No, I mean…” Jungkook’s frustration was rising by the second, the vein on his neck jumping out “Why are you acting like you don’t know me?”
You frowned.
 “Do I know you?” you asked, face doubtful.
“We have classes together?”
You blinked, impassive.
“We went on a date?”
A head shake.
“We slept together!”
“Nope, can’t say it rings any bells.”
That’s it. Jungkook was actually convinced you were clinically insane. 
“How can you not remember?”
“How can I remember something that never happened?”
“But it did! You’re crazy! I chased you for weeks!”
You smiled, a trap.
“So, you're, like, in love with me?” you ask, tone condescending. 
Jungkook scoffed and you weren’t sure if it was at the idea of love or loving you. “No, of course not.”
“So in this dream scenario of yours, we had sex but we weren’t together?”
“Trust me, this” he gestured between the two of you “is no dream scenario.”
“Well, aren’t you a charmer” you crossed your arms in front you, defensive “Let me get this straight. You, allegedly, chased me for weeks, but don’t really like me. Then, we had casual, out-of-relationship sex and then what? You banged my head against the headboard so hard I completely forgot about it? Your story is full of holes, my dude.”
You had to fight back the urge to smirk, energy spiking from feeding off of Jungkook’s stupefied confusion.
Nail in the coffin, you shrugged, turning your eyes back to your book “Maybe you weren’t that memorable and my mind deleted you like a childhood trauma.”
A slight left eye spasm was all the reaction you got at first, evolving to the pursing of pouty lips and the clenching of fists.
“You are insane” he said at last after seconds of turning clogs in his barely filled mind.
“Finally you said something true.”
Jungkook was equally bewildered and furious. He didn’t know what your deal was or what you were getting out of this, but your refusal to admit you had sex pissed him off deeply considering how much time and effort he put into getting you together.
“Also, I have to ask” you continued, clearly not done with your pursuit of driving him up the wall “what was your goal with this conversation? Chasing me for weeks to then sleep with me and then come here and tell me you’re not actually interested in me, but being upset when I don’t remember something that didn’t happen… What’s the point?”
Jungkook paused. Truly, he didn’t have much of an end goal in mind, actions fueled only by a bruised ego and a childish, borderline pathological need to prove himself.
When he didn’t answer, you stood up and gathered your things, keeping your head down to hide your poorly concealed satisfaction “I’ll let you ponder on that” you said “Don’t worry about reaching out with an answer, though.”
Finally, you looked up at him, face masked with faux awkwardness. “Anyway. Nice to meet you, I guess? No, actually, not really, this was weird as shit. You seem to have some things to figure out. Get help and take care, my dude.”
And so you left, leaving behind only a cloud of your bergamot perfume and a perplexed Jungkook blinking owlishly. 
There was a sudden influx of thoughts rushing through his usually much less busy mind, the general tone of confusion ringing amongst humiliation and frustration.
When Jungkook first set his greedy eyes on you, he had an inkling that you’d be a handful and in the beginning, you truly were. You took pleasure in making everything much more difficult for him, running from his presence like the plague and approaching the whole subject of him like one would the subject of warts - reluctantly and with caution.
And if he were honest, he wasn’t too sure on why he insisted, but one would be surprised at how far Jungkook would escalate things out of spite and resentment.
It was that same sick combination of flavors that drove him insane for weeks, moving him to pester you until you gave him a chance. And he took it, lord, did he take it.
That night, he made every possible effort to please you, cloaked in his best, non-ranch stained clothes and best non-arrogant behavior.
And when morning came and he opened up his eyes before you did, tired out from the epitome of his bestest behavior, there was a moment of quiet as he watched you eyelids flutter delicately, soft arm draped lightly over his waist.
The night before had been… Fun, he thought, even before you had reached your bedroom. You were weird and used a bunch of words he didn’t know, but you also made him laugh and listened to him babbling about his interest without once looking bored, even going as far as asking questions about his farfetched MCU theories.
And despite your many (too many to count, insurmountable really) differences, you had… Chemistry, one could call it. Thick chemistry, palpable tension, pushing you towards each other despite your previous attempts to go the other way.
But no amount of chemistry could break Jungkook’s routine as inertia pushed him out of your bed, practiced steps light as feathers as he escaped your apartment with one last look to your sleeping form and somehow one less sock on his feet.
And as he left, there was an undiagnosed pounding in his heart he tried to chalk off as the result of his Dorito and monster drink based diet, but his eyes kept flashing back to where you rested even when he was miles away.
He tried to make sense of your persistent presence in the back of his mind. You were cool, he’d give you that. Hot too. But it didn’t matter how your body fit his like they were manufactured together or how your passive aggressive way of flirting (or insulting, he had a hard time telling them apart with you) never failed to steal a snort from his lips. And yeah, it was kind of nice when you called him cute everytime he didn’t understand something you said. It brought a blush to his cheeks and wild butterflies to his stomach, because… Well, no one had ever called him cute after middle school. Hot? Yes. Sexy? Once a week. Biggest dick ever? Yes, both meanings.
But not cute. And deep down, under layers of aggressively oversized shirts and muscles… Jungkook kind of liked being cute.
Jungkook shook that thought away. Despite all that, you were a point he had to make.
And he did! Point proven and undisputed, up until you looked at him like he was a silly little kid throwing a tantrum (which he kind of was) and questioned him and his sanity,
But Jungkook was obstinate and, even more, the sorest of losers. He had proven himself once and would again! He was a man on a mission, he decided, watching you walk away from him while mouthing the words “I’ll pray for you!”. And the mission was to either send you into a psychiatric hospital or get you back into his bed.
And if the butterflies in his stomach fluttered excitedly at that second prospect, he didn’t allow himself to ponder on it for a single second.
°•. ✿ .•°
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theoldsports · 5 months
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married.
Coriolanus Snow x reader | 5.5k words
alcohol makes consent messy, substance abuse, manipulation, arranged marriage, public humiliation, two-way abusive relationship <3
Coriolanus may well replace Lupin as my favorite guy to write for. he’s fucked up. i can’t fix him, but i could certainly make him worse.
As quietly as possible, [Y/N] closed the door to Coriolanus’s lavish new apartment behind her. She didn’t particularly want him to know that she had left the apartment in the first place. There were always too many questions.
[Y/N] had recently moved in with Coriolanus since their engagement. Her parents had arranged their marriage with his grandmother, affectionately called the Grandma’am not long before she passed. Coriolanus was about the most desirable bachelor in the Capitol. Not only was he an excessively handsome twenty-three year old, but he was also growing increasingly wealthy and had recently received his first assignment as a Gamemaker working on creating a new arena structure for the Hunger Games. Everyone who was anyone in polite society knew of Coriolanus Snow.
And [Y/N] hated him with everything she had. She had to see his defiant smirk in school every day for years since they were twelve or so. She hid from him every chance she got at home. [Y/N] slept in another room away from him. The only advantage of their marriage were the politics and name recognition for the both of them.
“I didn’t realize you were going out.” Coriolanus said flatly, snapping [Y/N] from her thoughts. She hadn’t even realized he had been in the apartment’s common area. He was sitting calmly in an putrid-looking armchair, alarmingly still.
[Y/N] gasped and clutched her chest in surprise. “Is there a problem with my leaving?” She said quickly.
“No problem.”
[Y/N] looked at him curiously. “Okay.” She said and moved passed him to her bedroom.
After a moment of pause, Coriolanus appeared in her doorway. He leaned against her doorframe with a hand in his pocket. “Where were you, by the way?” He asked plainly.
“I don’t see how that’s your business.”
“It was beginning to get late. Our engagement party’s in two hours. I cannot very well attend an engagement event without my fiancée. So. Where were you?”
“Dry cleaner’s.”
Coriolanus let out a scoff. [Y/N] could see him get hot under the collar. “You expect me to believe you were—Where’s the laundry?” Coriolanus questioned.
[Y/N] reached into her coat pocket for the stub of her laundry receipt. “Dropping off, not picking up. You’re on Lucky Flickerman’s next week. Dropping off my dress ahead of time. Anything left you would like to accuse me of?” [Y/N] sighed, leaned against her desk chair.
“Do not speak to me like that,” Coriolanus begun, sighing. It was obvious that he felt undue humiliation from her response. “It’s childish and unbecoming.”
“So is your being a hypocrite.” [Y/N] snapped back instantly.
The pair fought daily. Never had Snow laid a hand on her, but it wouldn’t be surprising if he did one day. [Y/N] didn’t recall any particular fights he had been involved in at the Academy, but it doesn’t mean they didn’t happen.
“Stop acting like a child!” Coriolanus repeated. “Are we not allowed one remotely pleasant moment together? You know I don’t want this just as much as you, but here we are. Can’t we be civil?”
“I am capable of civility, yes. You, on the other hand…”
“You’re disgusting. You don’t know how to listen. It blows me away. I asked you a simple question that a married couple should ask the other when one is gone. Now you’re screaming at me like a little girl. Grow up.”
“Grow up? You wanna talk about childish; you’re selfish, demanding, and cold. I’m scared to death of you. You make me feel like a toy, not a person, Coriolanus. I was always pretty fucking certain children had toys, not grownups.”
“Good gracious… Fine! Be that way. Cause a fucking scene!” Coriolanus screamed. His temper flared. He got that look in his eye that only men can get when they lose something they wanted. “My coat and tie are black. I’m assuming you’re not intending to clash or something, so just letting you know. Y’know. Communication. The polite thing to do.” He reported and stormed out of her room to his own. Her door slammed so hard behind him that she feared in may splinter off its hinges. What must the neighbors think of them?
[Y/N] resisted the urge to shout for Coriolanus to drop dead.
She was left to ready herself alone. As she pulled out her dress (that wouldn’t look foul against Coriolanus’s coat and tie) from the closet, she caught a glimpse of the engagement ring on her finger. White gold with a moderately sized ruby set in the middle. She was told both the gold and the stone were real, but she had her doubts to some extent. She found it was difficult to believe anything Coriolanus said. The ring made it clear that Coriolanus didn’t truly know [Y/N] because she had always worn silver jewelry. She felt isolated from all her prior jewelry pieces as now, none of them matched.
Then, [Y/N] stepped into her dress. A flowing black ballgown with a full petticoat and a glittery exterior over the fine satin it was made from. She couldn’t quite complete the buttons running up the dress’s back. She sat down at a small vanity Coriolanus had purchased her to do her hair and makeup. She assumed he would be hard pressed by the fact she couldn’t button the back of her own ballgown; that she was incapable or needy.
After dragging kohl and shadows over her eyelids, among other things, she set out to find the correct pair of shoes to match the dress.
The problem with dressing to match Coriolanus is that he was excessively tall. This meant every dress had to be accompanied by the tallest heels one could find. [Y/N]’s ankles ached just thinking about a night in shoes like that again. With her makeup done and her dress unbuttoned down the back, [Y/N] set out to find the red heels Coriolanus had purchased for her. She sat unceremoniously on the floor with her large skirt fluffed out around her to dig in her closet for the shoes.
Coriolanus was fastening his white gold and ruby cufflinks that matched [Y/N]’s engagement ring when he knocked at her door.
“Yes, what?” She shouted from the floor.
Coriolanus pulled the door open without asking if she was decent. “I was going to ask if you were ready, but I can see that you aren’t.” He sighed. Coriolanus never apologized after a fight, instead he tried to placate in whatever way possible. He was incapable of an apology, [Y/N] thought. Whether it was buying her something, taking her out, helping her find something she had lost, that’s what he would do to ease his own guilt. If he could feel guilt.
[Y/N] sighed as well. She was unwilling to engage in verbal sparring with him now. She lowered her head in a visual show of defeat. “I can’t find my other shoe,” She said weakly. “The red ones you got me.”
“The red heels?” He asked quietly. Coriolanus perceived she was not much in the mood for his attitude, and felt his residual anger cool off several degrees.
[Y/N] nodded hopelessly. She didn’t want to go to the engagement party. She didn’t want to be marrying Coriolanus under terms such as these. [Y/N] felt like property and everything hurt.
“Let me look,” Coriolanus said. What he meant to say was ‘I’m sorry for everything,’ but what he said was: “I’ll help you look. Don’t wrinkle your dress, alright?”
[Y/N] stood up awkwardly, holding the falling bodice of her dress up. She felt uncomfortable being so vulnerable in front of him like this. “Sorry, I couldn’t button the back.” She said. With her free hand, she reached around the back of the dress in an attempt to close it.
“Don’t apologize. I’ll get it. Turn,” Coriolanus commanded plainly. [Y/N] did as he said. He notched the buttons down her back with ease. “You should’ve called for help. I didn’t realize you were struggling.” He said. He patted her shoulder to signify he was done with the back of her dress. Coriolanus moved in front of her closet and bent down to find the missing left red shoe.
It was silent for a moment. “Of course you weren’t aware I was struggling.”
Coriolanus offered no reply. He understood what she meant.
“Aha!” He said after a few moments, holding up a matching set of shoes. Coriolanus placed them on the floor in front of her so she could step into them. He offered [Y/N] a hand for stability as she did so.
“Thank you,” she said. “Hey, Coriolanus?”
“Hm?”
“Are you nervous?”
“No,” he replied, standing up from the carpeted floor. “Are you?” Coriolanus’s blue eyes were piercingly inquisitive. Eyes that didn’t want to know you, but to consume you.
“Yes.”
“Really? Why?” Coriolanus asked. It didn’t feel rude or hot-tempered. It was merely a plain question. It made [Y/N] feel safe to answer, even though she remained guarded.
“I’m presenting myself as the soon-to-be wife of the most important thirty-under-thirty in the Capitol in an arranged marriage. And you hate me. You have hated me since we were children. My life is over, Coriolanus. This is for you and for my family’s honor, evidently. What do I have left?”
“You think I hate you?” Coriolanus asked, bending his neck to look at [Y/N]. “I don’t hate you.” [Y/N] wasn’t sure how truthful the statement was.
“Well, at least, you don’t like me.”
Curiously, Coriolanus placed a hand on her neck and dragged his thumb across [Y/N]’s jawline. “That’s such shit, [Y/N]. I didn’t realize you thought that of me. That you… Felt that way at all,” he started carefully. “Rather, and this sounds silly, I enjoy arguing with you. I sort of thought you did as well. You’re ruthless, I admire that,” He smirked and paused for a breath. “I do like you. Believe it, or not. I’ll just have to figure out a way to show you better,” Coriolanus’ hand slid from [Y/N]’s throat, down her side and back to eventually rest at her waist. She blinked up at him, surprised at the luxury of such unexpected contact from him. “Your life is not over. You wanna work, work. You want to not work, stay home. Please, allow me to do what I can for you. I can open doors. Whatever you want, name it. Things, opportunity,” [Y/N] nodded at the word ‘opportunity.’ “You’re meant to be my wife and I’m… really, I’m one of the best resources there is around here. Let me use that advantage. Had I known sooner, I wouldn’t have wasted all that time and money buying you things you hate.” He attempted a casual joke, holding her too close to him.
They were closer physically than they had ever been. Due to their proximity, [Y/N] had to rest her hands on Coriolanus’ chest as she stared up at him. She didn’t know what to say, so she nodded and straightened the red rose at his lapel. “You just might get yourself that unified front with me if you bring home your work…”
“You’re interested in Gamemaking? Since when?”
[Y/N] rolled her eyes. “We’re going to be late. We can speak about this later.”
“By all means.” Coriolanus leaned down awkwardly and kissed her. Maybe it was out of duty, maybe out of desire. Neither of them knew. They had shared the occasional peck on the lips for social reasons before, but this felt a bit different. It was charged somehow. A promise.
When they separated, [Y/N] stared at Coriolanus. He was all eyes - blue, blue, blue. He blinked at her. She blinked back. “Come on, we’ll be late to our own party.”
The whole ride to the event venue, Coriolanus had kept his hand on [Y/N]’s thigh. This was an unusual gesture. Normally, he didn’t chance touching her, even by accident. It was an unspoken agreement to keep their distance.
“I’m gonna be sick.” [Y/N] groaned into her palm as she exited the vehicle, led by Coriolanus toward the door of the event hall. The building had been destroyed when they were children in the war and had been recently restored to its former glory.
“Same thing as earlier, or did you decide I’m the worst person on earth?”
“Same as before. Haven’t decided about the second thing. My parents are going to be here too. You remember them?”
“Yes. I’ve met them… Twice, I believe—”
“Tread carefully.” [Y/N] said, offering no additional support.
Coriolanus nodded in solemn understanding. His eyebrows knitted together, knowing one more nasty, exhausting troublespot would be in his way tonight. He hated social gatherings as much as [Y/N]. With all the gentleness he could muster, Coriolanus took her hand. “Heading inside… Unified front?”
“If I must.” [Y/N] said.
With that, the night took off. Bright flashing cameras reflected off the black and white marble of the building, and applause rang off the large, cavernous walls. Everyone was shaking their hands, greeting and congratulating them, and stopping them for overly pictures at every turn. For a moment, [Y/N] truly believed that everything in her life was perfect, because everyone around her seemed to assume that it was. It made the pill of her future easier to swallow.
Coriolanus led her around the room with ease. He introduced her to many individuals whose names she would not remember tomorrow. She was beginning to develop a stunning routine of artifice with him as Coriolanus puppeted her around the room. Each interaction functioned with a greeting from Coriolanus to the stranger, he would remove his arm from [Y/N]’s waist and drag it down her arm into her hand in order for her to showcase her striking gown. Then he would say “isn’t my fiancée beautiful?” or “isn’t she just divine?” or “what a lucky man am I?” [Y/N] would chuckle and compliment him back with “my Coriolanus, ever the charmer!” or “isn’t he just divine?” or “what a lucky woman am I?” accordingly. They would smile sickeningly and pretend they were in love, he would lean in and kiss [Y/N] on the cheek, and she laugh warmly at his ‘spontaneity’ and place a hand on his chest, or straighten his tie.
After that, they would move on to greet the next poor sucker and repeat the process.
Eventually, [Y/N] dragged Coriolanus off to the side so she could relax her artificial grin. “Sorry, I need a moment. My face hurts. And that last man and his wife, was that his wife? They stunk. They smelled so foul it is unreal.”
Coriolanus smirked. “Those were my next door neighbors growing up. Vile. They’re very heavy morphling users, if you couldn’t tell with the glazed over look and twitchy eyebrow.” Coriolanus mocked.
[Y/N] laughed, hard. “Oh, you’re terrible!” She jeered. “Damn, what I wouldn’t give for morphling tonight…”
“Don’t tell me you’re a junkie, now.” Coriolanus pressed.
“Junkie is such a strong word…”
“Well, since I can’t get you high out of your mind at the moment, best I can offer is posca. I can grab you a glass and you can hide from the onslaught for a moment.” Coriolanus offered.
“Please. A particularly stiff glass if you can swing it. Or whiskey!” [Y/N] said. She watched Coriolanus turn to leave for the bar. [Y/N] tucked herself in a corner behind a noble Corinthian column for a moment of peace. A few people came and went that she greeted with that 1000-watt fake smile of hers, but she was mostly left unbothered. [Y/N] caught sight of a clock and realized Coriolanus had been gone for several minutes longer than he should have. She excused herself from talking to some old woman that claimed to be some distant great aunt or something of Coriolanus’ and set off to locate him and her posca.
Cutting through the crowd, [Y/N] spotted tall Coriolanus over most everyone’s heads, holding two glasses of posca, and speaking to her parents.
Fuck.
Her parents.
[Y/N] rushed sharply towards Coriolanus. She stopped short of approaching. She wanted to listen in for a moment to what they might be saying. [Y/N] knew her parents were of the socially treacherous sort. She turned her back to them and stood, pretending she didn’t know they were there.
“…Hasn’t given you too much trouble.” She heard her mother laugh.
Coriolanus laughed uncomfortably back. “Ha, not too much, no,” He said. “She’s quite fiery, for lack of a better word, though. Tough. She’s a tough woman.”
“You’re a strong young man, Coriolanus. I’m sure you’ll find a way to put her in her place. You can’t have her compromise your image and all that, you know. She can just be so destructive.” Her father said.
[Y/N] felt her heart sink. The positive interactions she had with Coriolanus were slipping out of her mind by the second in overhearing the conversation.
“Ah, yes sir,” Coriolanus said. “We’ve got a whole lifetime for—“
[Y/N] turned around and stomped over to Coriolanus. “There you are!” She said, returning that winning smile to her lips. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you, dear,” [Y/N] the pet name coming from her mouth made her nauseous. She grasped Coriolanus’ arm firmly. “And you got me a drink? You really are a dear, aren’t you?” She smiled and turned to her parents. Coriolanus felt tense beside her; she could feel it in the muscles in his arm.
Both her mother and father embraced her lovingly. “Oh, [Y/N], you look beautiful as ever.” Her mother said.
“Thank you,” [Y/N] said flatly, not returning the compliment. “If you’ll excuse us, there was someone else I wanted Coriolanus to meet. We’ll be back around soon. Love you!” She muttered, pulling Coriolanus away from her parents.
“Give me that.” She said, as soon as they were out of earshot, taking the glass of posca from Coriolanus.
“They’re…” he started in reference to her parents.
“Dreadful. I know,” [Y/N] heart felt broken. She didn’t even have a chance with Coriolanus without their humiliating influence. She didn’t want to dive into rationalizing his overheard conversation. So she just morosely stared down at the floor.
“They’re cruel to you,” he remarked as [Y/N] drank. “They told me I should work on breaking your spirit.”
[Y/N] took a long drink from her glass. “Are you going to? Break my spirit, I mean.”
“Haven’t decided,” Coriolanus replied. “Is tonight terrible so far for you?”
“Absolutely and unendingly.”
“Shame, since it’s supposed to be for us,” Coriolanus frowned. “Here’s what we’ll do. Drink up and we’ll dance. You told me you liked to dance once. Still true?”
“Uh, yes. You remember that?” The truth was that Coriolanus forgot very little.
“Too much talking, not enough drinking.” He replied, reaching out to tip the stem of her posca glass up, forcing the drink towards her lips.
“You’re a dick.” [Y/N] snapped. Her voice echoed from the round glass at her mouth.
“Never heard that one before.” Coriolanus said sarcastically.
A total of five empty posca glasses were settled on a cocktail table between them after about forty-five minutes of chatter and drinking. Coriolanus seemed looser than before, but focused as ever. The third glass, and the last half of Coriolanus’ second, had sent [Y/N] over the edge into drunkness, however.
“Dance with me now?” [Y/N] slurred slightly.
Coriolanus held his hand out as an affirmative response. She took it and he led her towards the dance floor. “FYI, I’m going to lead. You’re falling apart.” He leaned in to whisper teasingly as they approached the shiny wooden floor.
“If you’re shit at this, I reserve the right to take over as lead.”
“You have zero faith in me,” Coriolanus said, grabbing her too firmly in a waltz hold. She placed her hand on his broad shoulder. “Don’t think, just follow. I’ve got you.” He said, staring at her. Blue, blue, blue eyes, completely unreadable. Coriolanus sloppily led her around the dance floor, keeping the spins to a minimum. Sober, he was probably a fairly decent dancer. [Y/N] was reflexively a fine dancer as well, but a bit sloppier than normal. The thing that was actually holding back her dancing abilities, were the damn red heels. Her feet ached and she didn’t think she would be able to keep up with much more than a waltz in them.
The next song began after only half the length she had expected from a waltz, [Y/N]. It was a brisk foxtrot; all reliant on footwork. As Coriolanus led her into the first sidestep, [Y/N] kicked off her heels without missing a step. She harshly kicked them aside, sliding them to the edge of the dance floor. [Y/N] found she felt tiny now in front of Coriolanus. His smirk doubled at the sight as well. “Better?”
“Much. How about you shrink six inches next time so I don’t have to grow six inches. Seems fair to me.”
Coriolanus laughed cordially. His laugh turned into a sigh when he noticed [Y/N]’s lack of reply. “Are you angry with me?” He was aware that she usually was angry with him, he was asking specifically she to the conversation with her parents.
“Yes, why?”
“Because you’re being extremely rude.” Coriolanus said sharply.
“And?”
“No reason, just making conversation.”
Coriolanus couldn’t figure out what [Y/N] was looking at over his shoulder, but he didn’t care enough to ask. “Wanna make it up to me?” [Y/N] asked. “Posca wasn’t enough.”
“I’ll consider it. The terms?” He replied, spinning her through a tempo change.
“I want to make my parents hurt. I don’t live under their roof anymore. She’s been staring at me since I took my shoes off. See? I’m embarrassing her. And you know how big you owe me.”
This gave Coriolanus pause. Really, he didn’t owe her anything worth a damn. She was as bad to him as he was to her. “Why?”
“You said you could grant me opportunity. Grant me the opportunity of making her feel a fool for making me marry you, Coriolanus. I’m drunk. This offer is only going to work right now.”
“What’s in it for me?”
“Blowjob.”
“I have an idea,” Coriolanus said immediately. [Y/N] grinned. His job was having wicked, awful ideas, so it was nice when he delivered. “Do you trust me?”
“No.”
“By the end of tonight, you will,” Coriolanus grimaced. He rotated the pair of them on the dance floor so [Y/N]’s back was to them and he could keep eyes on her parents. “I’m going to touch you.” He whispered in her ear when the music shifted to something more akin to a rumba.
“What?”
In seconds, [Y/N] felt Coriolanus’ nose slide from where he had whispered in her ear and down her neck to above her pulse point. He planted one kiss to her throat. Coriolanus waited before kissing her again to make sure she didn’t throw him halfway across the event hall in rage first. After that, he felt he had the go-ahead to work more forcefully. Coriolanus sensually kissed hard up and down the right side of [Y/N]’s throat, while both of them tried to keep their fuzzy brains clear enough to keep dancing. He kept kissing and sucking at her neck until she let out a nice loud sound of pleasure. That was when he pulled away. He was happy to see a nice purple bruise starting to form on her exposed neck.
“How was that?” He asked dryly, trying to hold off a pending erection.
“You’re out of your mind. Do it again.”
“I’m pretty sure my boss is here, [Y/N]. That was… great, but unless there’s—“
“We got lectured our entire growing up at the Academy to make sure we were to be winners by any means necessary, Coriolanus. Push the envelope. It’s our night. We can do whatever we want. Let’s make it count, at least. With all these cameras here? You keep this up, and your face will be on every periodical in Panem.”
“Yeah, for terrible reasons!”
“Any press is good press and you know that. ‘TROUBLE IN THE ARENA?: GAMEMAKER’S FIANCÉE BREAKS DOWN AT PARTY,’” she said, showing a fictional headline example. “Below it, a nice picture of me crying and you dusting me off like a dutiful husband. Have your way with me and eventually I’ll snap and cry and accuse you of something you didn’t do, then you can ‘put me in place,’ so to speak. Control the fucking news cycle til everyone knows your name.”
[Y/N] could tell that Coriolanus had in fact agreed to gamble with his image when his hand slid down her back and grabbed her ass. His mouth ducked back into her neck as well, biting harder than [Y/N] expected. [Y/N] let out a painfully loud moan without meaning to.
“You want a show, let’s give ‘em a show.” He muttered against her skin. Coriolanus pulled his hips flush against his. The fabric of her ballgown being the only meaningful barrier between them. After a few moments, they had given up any chance at a rumba. Coriolanus stood over her, kissing her bruisingly hard anywhere we could reach.
“Coriolanus,” [Y/N] muttered. She gripped his shoulder tightly to steady herself. “Fuck, that feels good.”
Coriolanus took his hand out of the one that was clutching hers and slid it up to grab her face harshly between thumb and forefinger. “Can you shut up for a minute? I’ve let you run your mouth all day. It’s getting annoying,” He said, the mask of kindness slipping from his eyes. “You have had a complaint about everything. I put up with it, too. It’s getting… really,” Coriolanus’ hand gripped her ass harder over the ballgown. “Fucking annoying. You’re already making me do all this because I’m a dick. Stop being a brat. Please keep your mouth closed until I want it open, okay?”
He was holding her face so tightly that she couldn’t even nod. That’s when she saw the cameras start flashing, as Coriolanus gripped her by the face like a spoiled child and rubbed her ass in front of everyone she knew. “Yes.” She tried to mumble, but it came out squished.
“Great, then, we’re clear. Don’t think, just follow.” Coriolanus leaned forward and kissed her blazingly. That’s around the time [Y/N] could hear her mother in hysterics stomping to the bathroom. She sighed with relief, but also burned with humiliation. It felt like Coriolanus was practically trying to fuck her with her clothes on.
[Y/N] couldn’t believe this. This wasn’t brutally argumentative Snow, this wasn’t pseudo-gentle Snow. Who was this? What the fuck was he doing? Why did it feel good? [Y/N] felt a shiver tingle down her spine as he kissed her. Aggressively, she kissed back in an attempt at delivering that ruthlessness Coriolanus said he prized. He squashed that quickly and leaned her back, almost knocking her off her feet. She pulled back breathlessly.
[Y/N]’s eyes were darting around the room, watching everyone watching her. She was the show tonight. For the first time in her life, someone had made her the real center of attention that she always craved to me. Coriolanus granted her opportunity. It fucking worked. Her gaze shot back to Coriolanus, looking down at her possessively. He was mouthing something to her, but her intoxicated brain couldn’t signal her eyes to focus enough to piece together his words.
“What?” She whispered, leaning away from him.
More clearly this time, Coriolanus mouthed. “Hit. Me,” He leaned in close to her ear and whispered. “I told you. I’m leading; I have an idea.”
[Y/N] started to shake her head ‘no’ at her insane exhibitionist fiancé, but she remembered she was the one that had asked for a show. Without asking why, [Y/N] feigned disgust and stepped away from Coriolanus. She raised her hand and sharply slapped him across the face. This elicited gasps of shock from their guests. She could see a red mark beginning to develop on Coriolanus’ fair cheek.
Violence like this is what people in the Districts did. This was not what well-bred, promising youth from the Capitol did. The chatter in the room grew in the form of prying hushed whispers. The band stopped playing. This was not how beautiful young girls behaved at their engagement parties. [Y/N]’s stomach dropped. She looked angrily between her vile hand and the mark on Coriolanus’ face. Both of their expressions showed that she had hit him harder than they expected.
“How many men, [Y/N]?” Coriolanus asked, forcefully.
“What?” [Y/N] asked, shocked. She had no idea what he was talking about.
“How many men have had you behind my back?”
It was a fucking act. No truth to it at all. He wanted a rise out of her and so did the cameras. This was exactly what she had asked him, she didn’t realize how seriously he would take her.
[Y/N] sighed. She understood her role and she was going to play it perfectly. “One. Only one, I swear. None since you caught us in bed.” Lie. “Stop. We’re…” she glanced around, playing ashamed of the cameras. “We’re in public, Coriolanus. Please. Don’t cause a scene.” She said, parroting what he had said to her that morning.
That line did the trick. She saw the vein in his forehead pop out. “Don’t cause a scene? You struck me!” Coriolanus roared. “That’s unfair, and you know it.” The ghost of a smirk played on his lips while he clutched his face.
“You wouldn’t hear reason! The accusations you made of me, Coriolanus. You—You—“
Coriolanus surged forward and grabbed her by her forearms. “Accusations that are warranted. I don’t know how you expect me to trust you after something like that! Do you think I’m made of stone?”
“Yes!” [Y/N] yelled truthfully.
Coriolanus paused. “[Y/N], I hurt just as much as you do. You’re drunk. You’re not thinking straight,” He placated. “I just can’t stand to see how these men look at you like that, knowing you would trade me for them in a heartbeat.” He brought the tempo of their fight down with his false melancholy.
“Coriolanus…” [Y/N] said tentatively. “I wouldn’t… Not now. We’ve put that behind us. I-I’m yours and—“
“I made this whole night about you. I…” Coriolanus swallowed dramatically. “I love you.” Lie? “I love you, I spend all night trying to show you that I don’t want anyone but you. I try to make you feel special so you won’t stray again. And you, you hit me… I can’t do anything right enough for you.” He turned his face away, feigning hiding tears and released her arms.
Without the stabilizing touch of Coriolanus, [Y/N] was starting to feel uncertain on her feet from the alcohol. Far from gracefully, [Y/N] sank to the floor, her skirt fanning out around her as it had when she was searching for her shoe earlier that evening. From the drink, the tension and the state of her shambling life, [Y/N] let out an unexpected sob. Coriolanus turned his head in genuine surprise at the sound. “I’m sorry, my love,” she started through sniffles. “I’m sorry. Forgive me,” She looked up at him as her mascara began to drip down her cheeks. “Please forgive me. You have every right to leave, but please, Coriolanus, you’re all I have left.” That part was true. It was all gone. Her childhood home, the security of her parents, university and the Academy were behind her, taxing relationships with friends she had outgrown. Coriolanus was all that remained. [Y/N] cried harder. “I made a mistake.” She howled.
Coriolanus was impressed, to say the least. Cautiously, he knelt down in front of [Y/N]. He would remember this image of her for his whole life. With her mascara running, her stockings ripped, her shoes long missing, the top of her extravagant dress sliding too low for public consumption, she was divine, truthfully. That was her. That was how he would always want to remember her. “Darling?” He said quietly.
Now, the bastard was left open to play the dutiful savior, just as she had teased earlier.
[Y/N] started to twist the engagement ring off of her finger, theatrically. Coriolanus took her obvious bait and took her hand to stop her. He slid the ruby ring back down her finger calmly. “Darling, I’m not going anywhere. You’re drunk. You just need a little help, right? You mustn’t drink so much. It breaks my heart to see you like this,” Coriolanus squeezed her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing it softly. “You need me. I’m not going anywhere. What kind of husband would that make me if I did?”
She nodded. “Thank you,” she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “You’re a good man, Coriolanus,” LIE. “You’re too good to me.”
“Come on,” Coriolanus rose from the floor and extended a hand to her. “Let’s get you home, huh?” He said condescendingly.
[Y/N] took his hand carefully. He pulled her up and she stumbled to her feet. Coriolanus wrapped an arm tightly around her waist and pulled her closer. He glanced around in surprise to address the crowd that had gathered in front of them. “I’m sorry for everything you just had to see. Please be kind to my fiancée; she’s had a lot to drink. Posca, right?” Coriolanus darkly attempted a somber joke. “I should’ve kept a closer eye on her. We’ll be getting home. Thank you all for coming out to celebrate us tonight.” Sorry to call it a night with so much night left.” He said softly.
Coriolanus led her to the edge of the dance floor where he had spotted her shoes. He grabbed the red shoes from the floor and carried them dangling from his free hand as he walked her to the door and down the stairs to the sidewalk. [Y/N] had a vague memory of Coriolanus summoning their driver via the valet at the door. She was too busy noticing how her stockings caught on the sidewalk with every step.
“Darling?” Coriolanus whispered, leaning down to whisper to her. “You were brilliant.”
“Really?” She sniffled hesitantly. “Because I’m fairly certain that everyone in that room hates me.”
“Any press is good press.” Coriolanus reminded her with a gentle kiss to the forehead.
“For you, maybe. I made a mistake asking for that…” she kicked at a stray stone on the sidewalk. “I am probably the biggest villain in Panem right now.” [Y/N] said, shaking her head a little with a sad laugh.
“Not a villain,” Coriolanus scoffed. “A star.”
PART II HERE
TAGLIST:
@badwicht @stelleduarte @cinnamongirl127 @prettyppetty @soulessien @bejeweledreverie @jjstyles @ndycrls @arminsarlerts @catlover420sstuff @chmpgneprblem @co1dmountains @watermelonharry @ohantonia @miscellaneousmoonchild @lille999 @pumkinnxsmut @nananarwhal @taykorsyogurt
sorry - some of them would not process and actually tag! i tried!!!!! non functional tags indicated with strikethru
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janaispunk · 4 months
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28 "No one ever cared about me like you." for Joel or Marcus Pike, please?? Thank you for writing all this amazing stuff for us <3
no one can hurt you now
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pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
word count: ~1.2k
summary: You’ve been traveling through the country with Joel and Ellie. After finally arriving in the safety of Jackson, you realize how much Joel means to you.
tags/warnings: post outbreak, mentions of infected, fighting and blood, reader doesn’t value her life that much tbh, angst, anxiety, comfort, able-bodied reader, no use of y/n (please let me know if i missed something <3)
a/n: dearest anon, thank you so much for your kind words and for sending this prompt in! this started out as a drabble but got out of control, so i hope you enjoy this little fic 🫶🏻
dividers by @saradika-graphics who is amazing <3
full masterlist here / follow @janaispunknotifs and turn on notifications for fic updates!
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The clicker’s teeth snap at you inches away from your face, your arms straining desperately to hold the creature off. A shot rings through the air and the clicker stills as blood splatters across your face.
You push the now lifeless weight off of you and try to stand back up, your shaky legs underneath you barely cooperating.
“Thanks,” you mutter, gasping for breath.
“The fuck was that?” Joel barks, the gun still grasped so tightly in his hand that his knuckles are turning white.
“It was- running at Ellie, I just-“
You’ll admit that you hadn’t really thought it through when you lunged at the clicker that had charged in the girl’s direction without any weapons in your hands. Not her, had been the only clear thought in your head. She wasn’t replaceable.
You were.
“You just what? Thought you’d get yourself killed?”
“No! I don’t know, okay? I still bought us time, and you got it, so-”
You don’t like the way he’s glaring at you, like you did something fundamentally wrong. You took a risk, yes, but his main objective is taking the girl across the country. You’re just… there.
“So?! Fuckin’ stupid, is what it was,” he snaps before he turns around abruptly and stomps further into the abandoned house that you’re hoping to spend the night in. You wait until your legs finally stop trembling before you follow him.
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It’s the middle of the night when Joel finally speaks to you again. You had settled down in one of the bedrooms on the upper floor, not before searching the house extra thoroughly after the clicker incident earlier.
You can hear Ellie’s soft snores from across the room and you would have sworn that Joel was asleep too. Your mind didn’t rest, replaying the scene over and over, the way Joel snapped at you making your chest hurt each time.
“You don’t get to not make yourself a priority, you hear me? I won’t let you.”
You flinch at the unexpected sound from his corner of the room, but his voice is gentle, like he’s approaching a scared animal.
“But Ellie-” you still try to protest.
“I care about Ellie just as much as you do.” He hesitates for a second. “But I also care about you.”
You feel heat flushing your cheeks and you avert your gaze, even though it’s too dark for him to see your face anyway.
“You shouldn’t,” you mutter, “she’s the one that matters.”
“So do you,” he grumbles.
“Not like her.”
He heaves a sigh and you hear him moving closer to you in the darkness.
“Listen to me.” His tone is gruff, but you can feel the intensity behind his words. “I couldn’t- shit, I couldn’t do this alone. Just take care of yourself. Don’t be stupid. Okay?”
“Okay,” you agree in a hushed voice.
You know that this is the closest that Joel Miller will ever get to admitting that he doesn’t hate you. You try to fight the feeling, but warmth is spreading through your chest at the thought that he actually wants you around, that he’s not just letting you tag along because he doesn’t know what else to do with you.
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It’s your first real night in Jackson, the first time that you’ve arrived at a place and didn’t immediately make plans on where to go next. The first night that you’re spending in a real bed in god knows how long. The first night that you don’t have to sleep with one eye open, always waiting for the next danger to find you.
And the first night in a bed with Joel. Neither of you had protested when you were assigned to one house with him and Ellie. You know what Joel and you look like, from the outside. You don’t think that you care, not really.
The house has three bedrooms anyway, so it didn’t matter. At least that’s what you thought, until you had all said good night to each other and you were lying alone in the darkness, wide eyes staring up at the dark ceiling, as you were trying to stop the anxious shivers running through your body.
It was too quiet, the mattress too soft, the room too… empty. You had gotten used to the steady breathing of two other people around you, and now that they weren’t in the room with you, everything felt wrong. What if you woke up tomorrow to find them both dead, to find yourself alone in the world once more? How were you supposed to make sure they were safe when you weren’t with them?
Before you could overthink it, you got up, checked on Ellie who was sleeping soundly and padded over to the room Joel was in.
“Can’t sleep?” his low drawl had greeted you as soon as you cracked the door open.
You wordlessly shook your head and he sighed.
“Me neither. Doesn’t feel right like this, does it?”
That’s how you ended up under the covers next to him. No touching of course, both of you keeping a firm distance. This was just so you could both catch some sleep. Just for tonight.
Except that you’re still not able to let sleep drag you under. Your body is tense, acutely aware of his presence next to you, his body heat easily traveling the short distance between you. You could bridge it just as easily, just reach your hand out to - do what, exactly?
You huff out a breath and turn onto your side, shuffling the sheets with your movement.
“What’s wrong?”
His voice is barely above a whisper and before you can open your mouth to respond, his fingers find your face and graze over your cheek in a barely there contact.
He had touched you before, of course, checking you for injuries, soothing you with a hand on your arm or a brush over your hair, but never like this. Never in the darkness of the night and never when you could sense the tension in the air between you, could almost feel his breath on your face. You have never been so acutely aware of the warmth of his fingers that’s seeping into your skin right now.
“I just- I never thanked you for taking me here, for taking care of me.”
It’s not what’s on the forefront of your mind, not the thing that’s plaguing you in this moment, but it’s still true, and much easier than admitting to him that feeling his body so close right next to yours has you practically burning up, has your fingers itching to touch him, to breathe him in.
Joel hums.
“You don’t have to. Of course I did that.”
You try swallowing the lump that suddenly builds in your throat.
“No one ever cared about me like you,” you admit in a whisper.
“Hey,” Joel mumbles, alarmed at the thickness of unshed tears in your voice, “come here, sweetheart.”
Both of his arms reach towards you and his hands splay over your shoulders to pull you into his chest. His warmth engulfs you and you feel the tension in your body subsiding as you’re resting your head over his steady heartbeat.
“We’re safe now,” he whispers into your hair. “I’ll always keep you safe.”
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if you liked this, please consider leaving a comment or reblogging - nothing would make me happier 🤍
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kissohee · 5 months
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virgin!anton x virgin!fem!reader ☆ nsfw ; wc : 2k+ ☆ one-shot mdni! synopsis; after being together for so long, you would think you've already done everything in the books, but there's only one you haven't done yet. and that's sex. warnings; anton is bigger than reader, extremely lighthearted, mentions of masturbation, anton is big, dry humping, protected sex, they cum quickly
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"You've got to see this video," Anton barges into your room, throwing his bag on your floor, "It's seriously the cutest thing ever." You look up at him from where you were sitting on your bed, moving your laptop off your lap and onto your desk next to you. "What is it?" "Cats. Two of them." He hands you his phone, kicking off his shoes to get comfortable, "I won't spoil it."
When you started dating Anton around a year ago, you knew his love and affection also came with cute animal videos. He sees a cute animal, he sends it right to you. Might even add a text saying "Us" or "You" but he's never saved them to show you in person. You watch the video nonetheless, it being a video about a cat who fell in love with another cat, even having kittens, and the rest of the video is just cute clips of them two. "It's us." Anton looks at you with a cheesy smile when you hand him his phone back. "It's very cute but, 'Ton..." You tilt your head, "You came here to show me a video of cats?" Anton didn't exactly live close by to where you did, so it was very rare when he came over. "Well," His head sinks into his shoulders, "I wanted an excuse to see you." You pull the blanket off of you and open your arms for him to accept your hug. Despite his big figure, he wraps his arms around your waist and lays on top of you. "You never need an excuse to see me, you know that.." He digs his head into your chest, and you bring a hand up to run fingers through his hair. "You missed me?" "Mmhmm.." He nods gently to not disturb your hand and he looks up at you. "I missed you too." Is all you're able to say before Anton lifts himself up to kiss you. You instantly reciprocate the kiss and hold his face in your hands.
Despite being together for so long, all you and Anton have ever done was make out. And even though each make out gets progressively more and more desperate and needy, you guys never put too much thought into having sex. It came up only a few times, and one was because because you guys were watching a movie that had a sex scene. You were holding Anton in your arms and he quietly mentioned it. "Do you think we'll ever have sex?" Anton was never the type to openly talk about things he wanted, so the fact that he said even something as simple as that shocked you. "Do you want to?" You always believed that it would happen when it happens, and you knew he felt the same way. "Not right now.." His eyes glued on the movie, "But eventually." The second time it came up was when he got his first boner with you. It happened during your first heated make out session. It was the first time he ever made you moan, and that was when he was leaving hickeys all around your neck and chest. You had felt him grow under you, nervous that if you brought it up you'd scare him. "Anton..?" He paused his actions and when he finally caught up with his dick he lightly pushed you off of him, covering it with his hands. "Oh my god," You heard panic in his voice, "I'm so sorry." His reaction made you hold back a laugh, "Why are you sorry?" His cheeks flushed "I don't know... It's.." He found himself having trouble forming sentences, "That's so gross of me, I don't know why it.." "You're a male human," You rest your head on his shoulder, "I don't think it's gross... It happens." You both sat there in silence, and when Anton realized it wasn't going down any time soon, he excused himself to go to your bathroom and jack off. He felt so embarrassed by it that he refused to see you for an entire week. And it wasn't until you promised him that you weren't repulsed by him, that he started to see you again. That day never came up again, and Anton was very cautious about making out ever since.
But right now he was too busy focusing on the way your mouth feels on his, his mind full of just you. He sits up to be more comfortable and stops kissing you when he can't, "Can we switch places.? I don't want to sit on you and crush you." He lightly jokes, making you giggle. "I don't mind if you crush me, goliath." He rolls his eyes at the teasing nickname and moves hair on your face behind your ear. "I like it better when you're sitting on me though," He says through a pout, and you find it too cute to say no to. It's your turn to roll your eyes and he wipes a little bit of saliva off your bottom lip before getting off of you. He hooks your legs around his waist, allowing your chest to press against his as you kiss him again. "Better?" You run your fingers through his hair while going back to kissing him. "Mmm.. Much better." He replies, softly moaning when you bite his lip, allowing you to slip your tongue into his mouth. When you tug on the bottom of his shirt, he immedeatly takes it off. Sure, you've seen Anton without his shirt before, he is a swimmer after all. But it has never been in the contents of the bedroom, which made even something as small as that make your stomach turn. You decide to lift your shirt off of you, making Anton stare at the way your breasts sit in your bra. He grabs the back of them, about to unclasp them before looking at you, "Can I take this off?" You nod and watch as your bra falls on the bed, finally feeling the cold air. Anton's eyes study every part of your breasts, "Can I touch them?" "Please.." This was your first time ever being exposed like this in front of someone, but you trusted Anton a lot so slowly the nervousness left your body. His fingers make contact with your skin, softly squeezing them, looking up at you with a small smile. When he drags his fingers along your sensitive nipple, you let out a soft moan, making him do it again. The sounds you were making going straight to his cock, causing him to rub upwards. The feeling of his clothed cock against your clothed pussy making you both moan. You continue to grind down on him, matching the speed of his hands working your breasts until he stops, "I-.. I'm gon' cum in my pants if we continue.." Neither of you want to stop, and the air in the room is noticeably different. "What do you want to do?" "I want," He pauses, thinking about what to say, "I need to be inside of you."
You know you're ready, you know you both are. You just wished you guys talked it out beforehand, cause you sadly don't have condoms just laying around. " 'Ton.. I don't have any.. you know." "Hold on," He softly lifted you off of him and grabbed his bag on the floor. After rummaging around it for a minute, he pulled out a box of condoms. He took one out and when went back to you, he realized you were looking at him suspiciously. "What?" "You just... carry condoms around?" You try to hold back a laugh at the thought of Anton casually walking around like that. "Just in case," He says shyly, "For moments like these." He takes the condom out and when he hooks his finger under the waiste band of his pants, he hesitates, "Look away." "Look away?" You raise an eyebrow at him, "No, I am absolutely looking." "Fine." He sighs defeatedly, "But don't say anything." When he removes his pants, his bulge looks bigger under his boxers. You watch as he removes the last piece of clothing, his cock hitting his stomach and your heart sinks. He's big. Like really big. Bigger than you thought, and this was a problem considering you're a virgin too. There was no way he was fitting. There's pre cum leaking from his tip, and your first instinct is to use your finger to wipe it off. He reacts almost immedeatly, squeezing his eyes at the feeling. You remove your pajama pants, showing the cute lace panties you had on. It just so happened to be a coincidence that you were wearing one of your nice panties, taking that as the final sign that this was supposed to happen. "Can I-?" Is all he says before you grab his hands and lead them to you. He hooks a finger around your panties before slowly pulling them down, revealing your dripping pussy. Anton moves his finger through your folds, playing with your arousal on his fingers, "You're so wet.." "Anton.... please." Beg filling your eyes and he softly kisses you before he moves his attention back on the condom he didn't put on, taking it and placing it on his cock. He lifts himself over you, one hand on your waist, the other busy aligning himself with your cunt. You feel his tip enter you slowly, "Is that okay?" You nod, grabbing his hand when you feel him push in just a little more. His fingers interlock with yours, squeezing them when he enters you fully. A whimper escaping his lips from how tight you feel around him. "Fuck..'Ton... You're huge.." You moan from the feeling of you being full, you were surprised he fit, though you give all props to your wetness. Your comment making his face flush full red, he honestly never put much thought into his size. He rests his head on your shoulder, afraid to move in case it hurts you. When you've gotten used to the feeling of him inside you, you caress his hand with your thumb, "You can move." "Fuck," Is all he can muster out when he thrusts into you. The way you feel around him makes him feel like he's on cloud 9. His cock reaching places inside of you that you didn't even know could be reached. Biting your lip, you squeeze his hand the same way he did earlier when he thrusts in a slightly faster pace. Anton's eyes were glued to the way your breasts bounced with each time he entered inside of you, "Y-you're so beautiful.. all of you.."
You wrap your arms around him so he's close enough for you to be able to kiss him. His soft voice louder now that he was closer, making you able to hear him clearly. From the way Anton's moans were coming out, you could tell he was getting closer and closer to release. So you let go of his hand to bring it between you guys, rubbing your clit to the pace of Anton's thrusts. When sees, he replaces your hand with his. His thumb moving in circles with applied pressure. You felt a knot grow in your stomach, moving your hips up to match his causing him to even deeper. "I-I'm gon- cum.." "We'll cu-cum together, o-okay?" He suggests and you nod. You feel Anton's thrusts become sporadic, and you can tell he's struggling to keep up with the pace. "Cum." You feel intense pleasure grow before you reach your orgasm, moaning out his name as loud as you can. He cums too, and you can tell by the way his hips twitch against you, small "I love you, I love you so much," coming from his lips. You both lay there, catching your breaths as you give him a hug with as much energy that is left in your body. He finally pulls out, removing the condom and he looks it before looking at you and softly laughs. "Can't believe we just did that." "It hurt like a bitch at first," You reciprocate the laugh and you see concern enter his face. "Oh it does, right.." He kisses your forehead, "I'm sorry princess. We will have to work on the size difference, huh?" "I think we already did," You caress his cheek softly before patting him on the back, "Buckle up baby, we are doing that again."
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antons been on my mind recently.. did NOT mean to make this as long as it ended up being.. - 🐠
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byuntrash101 · 2 months
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behind the mask
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f!reader x yunho smut | mdni 2.7k it's halloween night and your sweet golden retriever boyfriend wants to have a little harmless fun link + nsfw tags under the cut
#17: mask kink + outdoor + primal play (twt p☆rnlink) sweet bf!yunho, also ghostface!yunho, also big cock!yunho, knife play (not cutting skin only clothes, no blood), fear play (chasing through the woods + threats), degradation (slut, whore), outdoor/semi public setting (a deserted park at night), nipple play, spanking, backshots, unprotected sex ("im not angry, im disappointed"), creampie, implied aftercare (because when the mask's off he's your sweet lovey dovey bf ♡)
a/n: im back again on my bs. did you miss me? enjoy <3
3k celebration masterlist | ateez masterlist | navigation
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Halloween was your favorite holiday. There was something so fun in everyone dressing up and acting silly for a night. Every year you volunteered to take the kids of your small town trick or treating. You always liked bringing them fun memories. And halloween was just that much more fun when you looked at it through the eyes of a kid. 
This year wasn’t any different. Only this time your boyfriend tagged along with you. Which was a blessing in itself because the group of children was going to be more manageable with another set of hands on deck and another pair of vigilant eyes.
You adjusted the red hood over your head and pulled on the thigh high tights to bring them as high as possible, concealing the lace under your knee length skirt. It wasn’t freezing cold outside but still pretty chilly as the night was falling over the small town.
“Thank you for helping me,” you said to your boyfriend as you hoped in his car and headed to the local school where the parents had gathered the small group of children to take out trick or treating. 
“No worries;” Yunho said, smiling in your direction as he pulled into the parking lot. “Sorry for the costume. I only had time to pick up that mask” He pulled out the ghost face mask from the backseat. And pointed at the rest of the ensemble that consisted of a black hoodie with a black leather jacket thrown over it and a pair of ripped jeans. “That’s all I got” he said scratching the back of his neck, his lips pulling into an adorable, reserved smile.
“Oh no problem!” you said hurriedly, throwing your back pack on your shoulder, the modern item contrasted greatly with the medieval red riding hood costume. “Sorry it was on such short notice” And Yunho took your hand before you had the chance to open the car door.
“I’m just glad to spend time with you, really” he smiled at you adorably, his eyes turning into crescents. Even though you’d only been dating for a few months you felt very comfortable with him. Mainly because he was very sweet and gentle. So much so that initially you thought it was all an act to get into your pants, given how good looking Yunho was you knew he surely didn't have to do all of this “white knight in shining armor act” to get sexual attention. Unfortunately you fell for the lies and deceptions of others before and ended up getting ghosted after a night of at best mediocre sex. But Yunho was different. He never pressured you into anything and then when you finally caved into your desire for him… well it was gentle. He paid attention to your cues, made sure you enjoyed yourself and he made you feel safe, loved and good, very good.
“Don’t you think it’ll scare the kids though?” he said, placing the mask over his handsome face. 
“Scare them?” you laughed out loud as Yunho’s features dropped in confusion. “You’re so not ready for the little monsters” you laughed. “Let’s go” you said before opening the door.
You smiled and slipped the mask off before stepping out of the car. Yunho watched you being greeted by the kids. They were all jumping around in excitement, gathering around you like evil little minions of the night. The scene warmed Yunho’s heart as he smiled behind the mask.
“Mister! Mister! Your mask is very cool” a little boy with green face paint and stuffed leaves cosplaying as Hulk pointed at Yunho.
“Wooow scary~” a small girl with a peppa pig dress stomped her little feet and laughed, barely able to contain her excitement.
“Yes kids, that’s Yunho. He will come with us this year” Yunho took the mask off, ruffling his dark hair before smiling widely at the children.
“Hi kids” he waved.
“Oh” the small peppa pig girl let her words trail off. “Are you y/n’s boyfriend?” she asked very directly. Which made Yunho chuckle and her blush looking in awe at him.
“Yes. I’m the boyfriend” he said, half laughing. The girl then turned to you. “Does he have a little brother?” she asked as quietly as possible and you also laughed. “How about we ask him later, huh?” you whispered to her and she nodded timidly, throwing another curious glance at the handsome stranger. 
The parents waved goodbye to the children and left. Probably excited to spend a night in peace.
As the round of houses went by, the children’s bags became filled with candies and chocolate bars and of course the occasional apple from the more concerned parents. 
Yunho was a great helper. He settled arguments when kids thought the distribution of candies was unfair, he encouraged the ones that were scared to walk past a particularly convincing automated witch stirring her cauldron and he was just a joy to have a round. Even under the mask you could hear the smile that was spreading on his angelic face from ear to ear, contrasting greatly with the spooky mask.
As the night progressed you dropped off the kids one by one to their house and soon enough the last kid left and you and Yunho walked back to the car.
“Thank you for tonight, it was great” you said as you walked past the deserted park. You turned to him and smiled. “I really owe you one”.
Yunho pressed your body against yours, startling you a little. He slipped the mask off, he was slightly disheveled after wearing it all night. 
“Maybe there’s something you could do” he said, smirking, and you tilted your head in interest. “What about we play a little?” 
His demeanor had suddenly changed. But his dark serious eyes stirred something within you. You would lie if you said you hadn’t been fighting a kind of dark desire that sparked within you when Yunho first slipped on the mask but you kept the curious feeling at bay for the whole evening only to let it resurface now.
“You know,” he started his eyes falling from your eyes to your lips. “I've noticed the way you look at me when I wear the thing.” He dangled the mask next to your face. And you pinched your lips between your teeth to hold a gasp. Were you this obvious?
“Wouldn’t it be fun to play a little game? How about a little chase through the park?” he chuckled when he saw your eyes grow twice as big. “If you escape me you win. But if I catch you… well it’s not fun if there’s no surprise” the ominous statement made you whimper quietly as instinctively pressed your thighs together. “I’ll even give you a headstart” he smirked as he slipped the mask back on. 
He let go of your waist so abruptly that you almost stumbled back but found your balance in time. 
“Go ahead, little one.” Yunho said as he grabbed a kitchen knife from the backpack. “Start running” the laugh that escaped his lips was the furthest thing away from the usual warm laughter you were used to. It was cold and threatening. It made your stomach churn and not only in fear.
Without thinking you ran into the park and engulfed yourself in the dark woods, adrenaline coursed through your veins and you left the path to venture deeper into the woods. As you were running and jumping over the branches and roots of the trees that were sticking out of the dirt you heard the maniacal laugh come closer. 
Out of breath and panicked you decided to hide behind the thick trunk of an old oak to catch a small break and hopefully to escape the bloodthirsty man on your track.
“Where are you?~” Yunho singsang. You laid a hand over your mouth to hopefully steady your breathing. He was close. “You know there’s no point in hiding, little one,” Yunho said, his breath itching in his throat. “You know… I will… find you!” he said, suddenly circling the tree trunk, the big terrifying mask shoved in your face. You couldn’t even scream, you only started to run full speed, Yunho following you closely, knife in hand. 
But your skirt got caught on a thorn and slowed you down before you could accelerate again, completely ripping the piece of fabric, leaving you in a torn miniskirt barely concealing your ass. 
But that misadventure was your doom. Yunho was able to catch up to you. He caught your arm with his big and cold hand, gripping so tight it was bruising your delicate skin and pushed your back against a tree.
“Gotcha~” he said, even if you couldn’t see you could distinctly hear the predatory grin behind the disfigured mask. “I win”
“Please” you whimpered, your heart thumping in your ears. You didn’t really know what you were pleading for but when you felt your boyfriend’s hard on pressed onto your hip, you realized you were begging for him to take you. To claim you right here in the cold winter night in the middle of the woods. Like a wolf finally sinking his teeth into the delicious and tender flesh on a fawn. 
“Look at you little one” Yunho was growling, his threatening tone was stirring more arousal in the pit of your guts. “All nice and ripe for me to pluck,” he said, bringing the cold blade of the knife to your cheek, pressing the flat surface onto your hot skin, making you shiver. 
With his other hand he ripped the red hood off you and harshly pulled on your buttoned blouse popping just enough buttons to see your black lace bra. 
“Little one wore lace for me tonight” he slipped the tip of the blade between your breast and under the article of clothing and cut it clean off, earning a frightened gasp from you. The cold air blew on your bare skin making your nipples harden into tight buds. “Much better” Yunho sighed, groping your chest with his cold hand and pinching your pebbled nipples between his long fingers, you moaned from the stimulation, more arousal pulling in your underwear. He flicked and pinched and circled the hard nubs until you were a whimpering mess, each moan you let out becoming visible fog in the chilly open air. 
Yunho kept on rubbing his hard cock onto your hip, humping you slowly but purposefully grinding onto your soft side, groaning with each movement until he’s had enough of those games.
He pushed you to a boulder covered in moss and bent you down until both your hands laid flat on the cold stone and your ass was sticking up in the air. Yunho landed a sharp slap before putting the knife to good use again. He slipped it under your underwear, you felt the cold metal of the flat of the blade run against your throbbing hot and drooling little pussy, making you moan at the contact, fighting the urge to grind your greedily little cunt against it.
With a precise movement Yunho cut the undergarment letting your glistening cunt shine under the moonlight, the article was now only pathetic hanging by your waist. 
“Fuck you’re already so wet, bunny” he breathed out, swiping one finger along your drenched folds. 
“Please fuck me Yun-” you cut yourself. “Please ghostface fuck me”
You felt Yunho’s cock throb against your ass at your words.
“What an eager little slut” he said before bending down next to you and stabbing the knife in a tree stump next to you. “I’ll give you what you want”
A second later you felt his two big hands slap against your bare ass before his hot tip glided against your folds. Responding on instinct your back arched deeper and you pressed your ass against him, urging him to fill you up.
Without more prepping he slid his thick cock into you to the last inch in one swift move making you moan loudly, your eyes shutting tightly. 
“Oh ffuckkk” you moaned in the cold night.
“Fuck. So wet and tight for me, bunny.” Yunho said, taking a bruising grip around your waist. “Your slutty cunt is already throbbing around me. You liked it that much when I chased you around?” 
“Please” is the only word you could process through your foggy thoughts. You only wanted more of him.
“Who knew the cute little one liked to be preyed on?” He drew out of you only the slam back right in.
“God fuck- yes” you screamed at the sudden surge of pleasure.
Yunho settled a deadly rhythm, smashing himself between your hips, your wall gripping his fat cock tearing you apart every time it pulled out and welcoming it back in everytime he pushed in. Making your mind fuzzy, your ears seemed stuffed with cotton as you could no longer concentrate on the animalistic grunts Yunho was letting loose into the night and only on the way his enormous cock felt inside you.
He continued to screw his cock deep into you on this unbelievable rhythm. His hand left your waist to toy with your nipples again, cupping your breast and teasing your hard nipples, rolling them in his fingers until you couldn’t stand anymore, your legs threatening to give out at any point under the crushing weight of your oncoming orgasm.
“Fuck m’ gonna” you started.
“Not yet, whore” Yunho said, slapping your ass once more and abruptly pulling his cock out. You whined, your high was fading away as it was within grasp a second ago.
Yunho grabbed the knife again and put the sharp side on the skin of your neck, not pressing enough to breach the skin but enough to be threatening to do so. He shoved his cock back in.
“You better work for it. Wanna cum? Help yourself.” He laughed again. “Bounce on my cock like a good little slut”.
Your cunt clenched at his word, making him gasp sharply. You  don't need to be told twice. Without thinking, your mind completely drunk on the idea of chasing your high you started to back up against his cock and grind his cock into you. Smashing your ass back and filling the night with the sound of his grunts and skin clashing. 
“Fuckkkk. That's my good little whore. Keep going… m’close” Yunho praised. 
“Yes please cum.” You pleaded out of breath. “Please fill my tight little whore cunt with your cum”
Such foul words dripping from your innocent lips had Yunho crossing the edge right that second. Thick white ropes of cum spurted out his huge cock that was throbbing inside you. The warmth pooling inside you took right along with him, your walls gripping around him and fluttering as you arched your back to somehow push him even deeper inside you, his hand digging into your skin while the other one gripped the handle of the knife still pressed to your skin.
You both stayed right there for a hot minute, his cock deeply sheathed inside you while you caught your breath before he finally slipped out letting the unbelievable amount of cum run down your weakened and shaking thighs.
Yunho slipped off the mask and helped you stand up, interlacing his arms around your waist and surrounding you in his warmth. He was back to his usual self. 
“Happy Halloween baby” he said, smiling fondly at you. You chuckled.
“I didn’t know you were into such things” you said, hitting his chest playfully. He gasped with exaggerated shock.
“I didn’t know you were into such things!” he said, hugging you tightly, trying to shield you from the cold winter breeze. 
He drew back a little to look at you, your hair was ruined, your mascara was smudged, your ripped skirt was barely covering you and cum was coating your inner thighs. You were so beautifully ruined for him. You looked perfect. He couldn't help his heart swelling with unconditional love for you. 
“Here” he took off his leather jacket and tied it around your hips. “Let’s head back”
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bucks-babe · 5 months
Text
Virgin Bucky Gets His First Blowjob
Paring: Virgin!Bucky x f!reader
Summary: You give your boyfriend his first blowjob
Word Count: 2,148
Warnings: Established relationship, smut (Oral m!receiving), kind of sub!Bucky, Bucky is a nervous boy and gets a hard on during a movie, Bucky has a praise kink, Virgin!Bucky, No use of Y/N
A/N: Should I make a part 2 where Bucky loses his virginity to reader?
“Okay, doll, I’ve got everything set up. You pick a movie yet?” Bucky settles down next to you in his bed, making sure that there is no space separating the two of you. He wraps his right arm around your shoulder and you snuggle up into his side.
Your laptop is resting on both of your laps, your left thigh and his right thigh hold it in place. “Yes, and it’s one of my favorites!” You bounce in place just a little. “You’re gonna love it, Buck! It’s When Harry Met Sally.” Bucky chuckles at your excitement. Steve has his book of things to catch up with in the 21st century, and Bucky has you. 
“We’ll see, doll. You haven’t let me down yet.” In all honesty, Bucky was thoroughly enjoying the movie, Harry wasn’t the type of guy Bucky thought girls would go for, but most of his enjoyment came from how happy the movie seemed to be making you.
A few times you would catch Bucky staring at you instead of the movie; each time you would look back up at him he would pretend that he was immersed in the movie the whole time and you would nudge his side. It just made him so happy to see how much you were enjoying the movie, going so far as to mouth the lines alone with the actors.
“Yes it is! You are a human affront to all women, and I am a woman.” 
“Hey, I don’t feel great about this, but I don’t hear anyone complaining.”
Unbeknownst to you, Bucky is having the time of his life watching you act out the conversations, his heart never feeling so full in all his life. He truly doesn’t know what he did to deserve you, after all the horrible things he’s done in his life, he gets blessed with the most wonderful and understanding woman to call his.
His doll, his girl, who hasn’t even pressured him into anything. He felt bad at first, when he told you that he wanted to take things slow, thinking that you wouldn’t want to have a boyfriend who had no experience in the sexual realm. Of course, he’s kissed women, having his fair share of dames back in the 40’s, but he was a gentleman. He would take them out dancing, maybe make out in his car a little bit, but he never went farther than that. 
Now, after waking up after 80 some years, the last thing on his mind was having sex. That was until he met you, the minx who has awoken something inside of him, but he’s never acted on any of these feelings, too scared that he would disappoint you.
Ashamed that he was still a virgin, Bucky always stopped you before anything would get too heated, and you respected that. It didn’t make Bucky feel any better when he had to go to the ‘bathroom’ after a make-out session, but you never teased him about it, the both of you pretending that he really did need to go to the bathroom.
What the fuck?! Bucky’s attention is back on the movie when Sally has an ‘orgasm’ in the restaurant. Next to him, you’re giggling while watching her fake an orgasm, but Bucky, he’s not laughing. 
Bucky’s never seen a woman have an orgasm. Back in his day, the most accessible type of porn were dirty magazines that he used to hide under his bed so his ma wouldn’t find them. He tried to watch modern day porn after his not so mini sexual re-awakening, but after seeing some of the video titles, decided that porn was a no go for him, so this was sending all of the blood in his head straight to his dick. If it was over dramatized, he couldn’t tell, but his cock didn’t care. 
He felt it twitching in his sweats and he tried to subtly shift so you wouldn’t be able to see the bulge under the covers. Closing his eyes, Bucky tried to will his erection away; however, the scene seemed to never end and his cock got even harder at the thought of what you would look like when you came, how you would moan his name, how you would feel around him. 
He bets that you would look fucking spectacular spread out on this very bed with his cock burried deep inside of you. How your pussy would look swallowing him as he–
“Bucky, are you okay? You’re moving around a lot.” Shit! Bucky knows that he’s been caught. There is nothing he can do to hide the tent in his sweatpants; he curses himself for even wearing pants with so much give to them. 
“Uh…yeah, I’m good. My back’s a little stiff from the bed is all.” With how red his face and chest are, it’s a surprise that there is enough blood going to his dick to have it be as hard as it is.
“Your back? Are you sure? Cause I think I see the problem.” Double Shit!
“Doll, I’m sorry. It’s just that…” Your giggle cuts him off.
“Bucky, it’s okay. If you want I can give you a minute to sort,” you glance at his crotch, making it twitch in need, “that out.”
Bucky wishes that the bed could swallow him up whole so he wouldn’t have to deal with this. He’s a grown man for God’s sake and he’s popping wood at the first sign of something sexual!
“Or…” You drag on, “I could help you with that.” Bucky gulps, finding his throat to be drier than a desert.
“Doll, y-you don’t have to.” There’s a spark in your eye that you only have when you’re up to no good, like when you set Steve and Sharron up on a blind date after being sick of the pining between the two of them.
“But I want to, Bucky. Only if you’re okay with it.” His heart feels like it’s about to beat out of his chest, but he is so hard, and he trusts you with his body and soul.You know that he’s never done anything; you would be the last person on the planet to make fun of him. 
“O-okay. What do you want me to do, doll?” You close the laptop, effectively ending the movie; Bucky couldn’t give less of a shit what happens to Harry or Sally right now, not when you’re looking at him like he is a full course meal and you're starving.
“Absolutely nothing. I want you to lay right there and let me make you feel good. Can you do that for me, hmm?” Pulling the covers back, you settle between his thick thighs, resting your head on one and looking up at him.
“I-I can do that. Yeah.” He shifts so that his back is against the headboard. Bucky isn’t used to just laying back while someone else does the work, has never been like that, but for you he would do just about anything if you asked.
Your hands go to the waistband of his sweats and boxers while you give small kisses to the outline of his cock through both layers. “Good boy,” you whisper on his cock, chuckling when it jerks under your mouth and he whines. Ooh, he’s a vocal one, you think as you look up at his flush face.
Bucky lifts his hips off the bed when you tug at his waistband, and his cock smacks against his clothed stomach, precum leaking onto his shirt. With his cock and balls on display, Bucky fights the urge to close his legs and cover himself up; no woman, or man, had ever seen him like this, but he wants this so bad. He trusts you; if he wants to stop, you’ll stop, but heaven forbid if you stop now.
He’s fucking big, too. You don’t know if you’re going to be able to fit his entire length in your mouth, but you’re sure as hell gonna try! Starting at his thighs, you give wet, open mouth kisses, leaving beautiful bruises on his skin. Whimpering, Bucky tries to get your mouth on his cock; all of your teasing is only making his balls fuller than he thought was possible and more precum ruin his shirt.
“Please, doll. Suck it.” His toned hips leave the bed in chase of your mouth. He can’t count how many times he’s fucked his fist thinking about how the tight heat of your mouth would feel wrapped around his cock. Even now, with you kissing up and down his length, tracing his most prominent vein, it’s not enough.
“Shh, big boy, I’m getting there. You’re just so pretty I have to paint you.” His cock bounces from the force of its throbbing and another whine leaves his plump lips.
Eventually, you take pity on him and his begging, and you take the tip in your mouth and give it a harsh suck. “Oh Fuck! Do that again, doll!” He throws his head back, making contact with the headboard with a loud thunk. Hands flying to the sheets, and hips chasing your mouth, Bucky damn near chokes on his own spit.Christ, you’ve barely touched him and he’s about to burst.
Loving his reaction, you grab the base of him and spit on his tip, watching it roll down to where your hand rests, only to use your spit as lube to drag your hand up and down, feeling him pulse and throb in your hand. “Come on, doll. Please! I need more.” 
He was fisting the sheets, not wanting to force your head down, but wanting you to take him down your throat at the same time. Deciding not to torture him anymore, you licked your lips before taking as much length in you mouth as possible.
“GOD, FUCK!” His hips flew up to meet your mouth, making you gag. He was trying his hardest to stay in control and not force your pace, but fuck, he wasn’t expecting it to feel this good. You quickly found a steady pace, hollowing your cheeks and using your tongue to lap at his dick. Salavia coated his entire dick and was leaking down to his balls, making your movements that much easier.“What the fuck! Doll, that feels fucking incredible. More, please. Give me more! Shit! That feels so good!” Such a needy little thing.
There were still a few inches of his dick that you couldn’t fit in your mouth, so you used one hand to work the remaining length and the other hand to massage his balls. His cock was leaking precum and you could feel his heavy sack tense up in your hand; you knew he was about to cum, even before he did.
Bucky pulled you off his cock. “Doll! I’m gonna cum!” It took you a second to register why he pulled you off when he was about to cum, but you then realized, he didn’t think you wanted to swallow - How wrong he was.
“If you’re gonna cum, baby, I want you to cum in my mouth.” Not waiting for a response, you took his cock back into your mouth, taking him all the way to the base, letting him fuck your mouth with the little jerks of his hips. The sounds leaving his mouth were almost akin to sobs, making you clench your thighs together to quell the ache between your legs.
“Fuck, I’m cumming!”  His cum shot out in thick streams and you tried to swallow around his cock, but more and more cum would shoot out. You lapped up every single drop of his cum that you could, some of it dripping down to his balls. When his hips tried to jerk away, you pulled off his cock to lick his balls clean and tuck his softening cock back into his pants.
With a dopey look on his face, Bucky gave you the prettiest smile, having experienced the best orgasm of his overextended life. “I really liked the movie, doll.” He laughed after you giggled. After coming back down to reality, Bucky frowned, “doll, I wanna make you cum, too.”
“Oh, Buck, I didn’t do that because I wanted anything in return,” you repositioned yourself next to him in bed, ignoring the throbbing of your pussy, “I did it because I wanted to make you feel good.”
There’s still a pout on his lips, wanting you to feel good as well. “Another day, Bucky. I don’t want to overwhelm you with too much in one day, okay?” Eventually, he agrees, becoming compliant after getting his soul sucked out of his body.
“Next time, doll, you’re gonna teach me how to make you cum.” God, you love this man.
“Oh, I look forward to it.” This man is going to wreck you and you can’t wait.
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rileyslibrary · 1 year
Text
“So, let me get this straight,” he says, rubbing his temples, “You set fire to your tent while trying to make what?”
Heat rises to your face as you avoid meeting his eyes. You fidget with your fingers, feeling exposed and vulnerable in front of your superior. Your breathing is so loud and ragged in the silence of his tent, and you try to steady yourself before speaking.
You murmur an inaudible answer while shifting your weight from foot to foot.
“Louder, soldier,” he commands, “and look at me when I address you.”
You take a deep breath and hold it in. You lift your head and meet his eyes. His balaclava is crooked and messy as if he put it on in a hurry when the entire camp went into chaos. You can see a few stray hairs poking out from underneath it. His eyes are bloodshot, and his voice is hoarse; the poor guy has had enough.
“Popcorn, sir.” You whisper and instinctively kick a rock on the ground, wishing it was you.
“Popcorn.” He repeats, amazed.
You nod and divert your gaze to your left, where his bed is. You blush and immediately swing your head in the other direction.
“What were you thinking?” He asks, leaning on his field desk with his arms crossed in front of his chest.
“I guess I, um, I guess I was hungry, sir.” You stammer. You shift your weight to the balls of your feet, then place them back on the ground.
“You guess you were hungry?” He asks dumbfounded, “And you decided that popcorn was the right snacking choice?”
You shrug, and he shakes his head.
“Tell me, soldier,” he says, “do you know what popcorn does?”
“What does it do?” You ask naively.
“Come on, work with me,” he says, gesticulating with his hands, “it’s a compound word; corn that...”
“… pops?”
“Repeatedly”, he nods, “and do you know what repeated ‘pops’ might be interpreted with? In a field exercise? With a bunch of soldiers on high alert?”
“Gunshots?”
“Repeated gunshots,” he corrects you.
You shut your eyes and hunch over. “I’m really sorry, sir,” you finally mutter, “it was an accident.”
“Oh!” He exclaims and throws his hands up, “Thank you for clearing that out, soldier; see, I was worried you were intentionally committing arson!”
“No, sir, I promise you that wasn’t my intention,” you cry, “I didn’t want to upset you.”
“Upsetting me is not the problem here, Y/N, and if you can’t see that, we have a bigger issue to deal with.”
You furrow your eyebrows and look at him, confused. He takes a while to assess your expression and widens his eyes, ready to lecture you for good now.
“You could have gotten hurt, you idiot!” He shouts, hitting his palm with the outer edge of his hand. “You could have burned yourself, or someone could have shot straight in your direction with all these...” he gestures with his hands, imitating fireworks, “...pops that you were making!”
You raise your eyebrows as you connect the dots. “You’re right, sir,” you nod, “I will try to be wiser and not make any stupid mistakes in the future.”
“Mistakes happen daily, and you are wise, soldier.” He reassures you, “If you weren’t, you wouldn’t be on my team.” He walks behind his desk to sit on the folding chair. “It’s your inability to assess the danger that scares me.”
“I don’t understand, sir.”
“I don’t want you to get hurt,” he says gently, “and I worry that there might not always be someone there to help you.”
“I can assure you that the team is always-”
“I know the team is great and always has your back, but I mean me; I won’t always be there to save you from harm,” he says and shoos you away. “You’re dismissed,” he orders, and starts filling paperwork.
“Aren’t you going to sleep?” You ask.
He shuts his eyes and rubs his forehead. “I just extinguished one hell of a fire,” he replies. “Unless what I just experienced was a scene from a movie, I highly doubt I’d be able to sleep in peace.”
“I’m really sorry.” You apologise, and he waves his hand again for you to leave.
“Soldier?” He asks, and you turn to look at him one last time.
“I hope you didn’t bring any movies to accompany you with that popcorn.” He states in a stern voice.
You vigorously shake your head. “No, sir,” you reply, “no movies, just popcorn.”
He lets out a relieved exhale. “Just remember; next time you get hungry, it’s better to stick to the rations.”
You shrug and look at the ground. “I’ve run out of my allocated rations, sir.”
He lets out another exhale, this time deeper, and tilts his head to the side.
“Is that the reason you decided to cook for yourself?” He asks, “Because you ate all your meals?”
You slowly nod. His eyes have softened, and he looks more compassionate than before. Almost forgiving; human.
He opens the drawer of his field desk and grabs an energy bar and a pack of dried figs. He pushes them towards you.
“Please, come see me next time,” he advises you. “I much rather wake up to you asking for food than to a blitzkrieg of kernels popping.”
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