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#which is the condition I had on MY left leg
inkskinned · 1 year
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i love my therapist but i hate being in therapy. 10 minutes before my appointment, i'm in a meeting with my boss - we discuss my artistic choices; my boss recommends i artistically choose less. 10 minutes after therapy, i wash my hair and think about everything that was said, and then i have to switch it off, like a lamp, and go back to work again.
i was on a walk the other day and someone had the perfect combination of his cologne and whatever-else. it was almost exactly his scent. i fucking hate that. after all these years, i remember that? i tell my therapist - i feel like a fucking wolf. try telling a middle-aged blonde lady. oh i scented him on the air. i'm 30, and i'm having a panic attack over something that would be a plotline in the omegaverse.
what they don't tell you about mental illness is that if you are lucky enough to survive it into adulthood; it becomes a weird slice of your life. because you do, eventually, have to build a life. i realized in a panic somewhere around 22 - oh. i don't know what i'm fucking doing, because i always assumed i'd just go ahead and die. i didn't die, and i'm grateful for that, and i'm very happy about that choice. but it does mean that i am an adult in an apartment, living with my conditions side-by-side like. oh, that's my roommate, adhd. ignore the glass, bytheway, that's ocd.
so you pick your stupid life up by the scruff of the neck and you're, like glad for it (so much laughter and light and friends you would have never thought possible, when you were in the worst of it). but it feels so strange to be dancing around these odd little microcosms, these patchwork moments of your symptoms. if you have a panic attack at night, you still need to wake up and walk the dog in the morning. if your depression is making everything boring, well, you don't have any sick days left, and a job's not really supposed to be that exciting anyway. your ocd tears out each individual leg hair, and then, an hour later, you sigh, patch up the bloody bits, and go get dinner with friends. and the life is kitten-quiet, mewling and pathetic, but it's also like - it's yours, so you're fond of it.
and it's like - you're real. so you still enjoy pushing the shopping cart really fast and then riding on the back of it down an empty aisle. and you're not, like, so sick anymore that when you accidentally drop a mug you burst into tears (except for the days you do that. which are bad). and no, you're not allowed around certain items anymore. oops! but you've learned to be good about brushing your teeth most days of the week. and yeah sometimes in the middle of the day you have a little freak-out about how fucking unfair it all is, how fucking hard, how other people can just do this without having to fucking hurt the whole time. and then you sigh and force yourself to sit down and fucking journal about it so you can tell the nice middle-aged blonde woman yeah i had a hard day but i practiced grounding. you still sometimes want to burst out of your own skin, but you force yourself to eat kind-of healthy and to take your vitamins. you let yourself chop off all your hair in the sink in a dramatic poetry of control and relief - and you also have developed good hobbies that help you move your body more frequently. you feel helplessly behind, lost in the shuffle - but you also practice gratitude, taking stock of what you have garnered. because you're trying. even if you're never gonna be normal, you have something... close enough.
and the little kitten of your life, this mangy, starlit tigercub, this thing you expected to rot so young: in your arms, it turns itself over, belly-up. exposing this new soft part, all the organs and guts. like it's saying i trust you now. you won't give me up.
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miracleon63rdstreet · 2 months
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I was just beaten, stabbed, and shot all in just the matter of a few days, each day a different incident or attack by an individual in my family and outside of my family by ppl around me, I had to get several stitches in my legs, arms, hands and even some in my face after being jumped and beaten and stabbed, I had a bullet pulled out my leg and my side, I was shot 8 times, 4 times in the legs and 2 times in my right lower abdomen and another 2 times in my left lower abdomen, I been in and out of the hospital including the mental hospital for suicide attempts as well as being harmed by transphobic ppl, I've been struggling paying for costs of a vet visit after my kitten was killed by my moms dog after she had her dog kill her, I've been raped, molested and abused by my family and ppl in my schools and neighborhood and I just get tired of being in this same situation surrounded by poverty, I live in a neighborhood where I'm constantly threatened for being a black trans woman and I have NO ONE TO TURN TO, I've tried getting help finding a new job but it's harder after constantly being fired for molestation at work and sexual harassment and constant work abuse I've been thru whether it was employees or managers targeting me with harassment and bullying within the workplace and it's been hard in general trying to get help with financial situations, paying for medical bills and get med assistance from the government and the city as well as mental health help for therapists, psychiatric help, and safe space havens or shelters, I've also been from mental health facility shelter to homeless shelters and been harassed, abused, raped and molested in EVERY SINGLE ONE, i am currently living in a rundown home surrounded by poverty and bad conditions, rusted bursted pipes, i have no plumbing, no water, no way to get anything to drink, to clean stuff with, i dont have water for dishes to be cleaned, laundry to be washed, or to bathe or shower in or to take a piss or shit in either and there are several dead cats in my basement as well as raccoons from all the holes in the walls, I had to freeze in the winter and was trying to get help from the city with some government assistance and I'VE YET TO GET ANY HELP, ANY THERAPISTS FOR MY MENTAL HEALTH I'M STILL ON A QUEUE, I HAVE NO HELP FOR MENTAL HEALTH MEDS, OR PSYCHIATRIC HELP, I can't seem to afford to get help with much even after succeeding my Gofundme goal because I had to use most of that money for food for me and my cats and keep cleaning products to get my home clean WHICH IS STILL A MESS. so what i need anyone to do for me if yall POSSIBLY CAN, is reblog this as much as you can and please share my links to donation help with pet food, water, meds, med help, mental health help, finding an apartment, getting a bed or mattress, and any daily needs and necessities IF YALL CAN.
My goal is to get at least $2500 to $3000, I know it's alot but rn I need as much as I can possibly get, yall can send anything, nothing is too small it's ALL APPRECIATED. IF PPL CAN SEND AT LEAST 25 OR 30$ EACH IT WOULD HELP OUT SO MUCH, BUT AGAIN ANY AMOUNT IS APPRECIATED. THIS is REALLY IMPORTANT!!....I'M TRYING MY BEST TO SURVIVE RIGHT NOW!
Cashapp: $Slasherstan91
Venmo: Negrophiliac (I know the name's wild 😭)
Chime: $MarsRayL
Paypal: paypal.me/MarsRayL
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ohbo-ohno · 5 months
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Okay but *gulp* soap with his dick slipping out and accidentally pressing into the wrong hole. Doesn’t stop him from continuing tho
listen LISTEN listen - yeah!! soap is 100% the kind of asshole to do this!!
1.7k soap x f!reader "wrong hole" drabble 🫶 (cw: pwp smut, noncon anal sex between partners (also unrealistic anal sex), pussy drunk johnny)
You arch further into Johnny, slick skin sliding along slick skin as your mouth drops open on a moan.
“Jo-Johnny,” you pant, gripping tightly to his broad shoulders. “Feels ssooo- so good.”
“Yeah?” He grunts from above you, mohawk messy and dripping sweat. “Bet it- bet it feels big, huh?”
You whine, pushing your hips closer to him as he slams home inside of you. “So big,” you agree, your mind draining from you slowly as he pulls nearly the entire way out on every thrust, leaving you almost empty before filling you to the brim. “God, you’re so good, Johnny.”
“Fuck, yes,” he pants, arms wrapping around your back and squeezing you tight to him. Your hips are pushed a little further up, a little closer to him. You wrap both your legs around his waist, hold him as tight as he does you. He only manages to keep up his rhythm through pure strength, easily able to overpower your grip.
“So good,” he mimics, eyes squeezed shut. You can’t look away from him - the sweat dripping down the side of his tanned face, the wrinkles and scars decorating his skin, the way he looks like he’s either in agony or euphoria. “Feel so perfect, so tight. Fuck, missed you so much, lass, missed your perfect cunt.”
Your eyes nearly roll back in your head when he hits the perfect spot inside of you, body limp in his arms. You feel almost like a doll, like a toy for him to fuck, but he’s so good at it that you can’t even begin to care.
The both of you devolve into moans, occasionally trying to speak and choking on your words. You might feel embarrassed of what a mess Johnny’s made of you, if he weren’t in the same condition.
He pulls out completely on several thrusts in a row, both of you gasping at the sensation - you, because it’s a shock to go from nothing to everything completely and him, because every thrust inside of you when he’s pulled all the way out feels like the first. You dig your nails into his muscles, pushing your chest against his for all the physical contact you can manage.
It happens too quickly for you to even really notice. One second Johnny is rearranging your guts, giving you the best dick of your life, and the next you feel like you’re being torn in two.
You nearly scream, eyes flying open and nails dragging down his back, peeling skin off. Johnny’s loud groan drowns you out almost entirely, and he doesn’t seem to notice what he’s done.
You notice. Your unstretched ass feels like it’s on fire, and after your first sound of shock you can’t get enough breath in to try and say it hurts. 
Johnny can’t thrust the whole way in, like he had in your pussy. Your body gives him too much resistance, which is what finally makes him realize.
You’re nearly blinded by the tears filling your eyes when he finally blinks open, staring down at you.
“Holy shit,” he breathes, and you can feel his heart racing against your chest. “Did I-? Am I in your-?”
“Pull out,” you gasp, tapping at his back desperately. “Oh my god, Johnny, pull out, I can’t- fuck, you’re too big.”
That’s the wrong thing to say - instead of pulling out, he groans, dropping his forehead to yours and letting his eyes fall shut again. You let out a long, high whine when his hips push forward, slowly spearing you further and further on his cock.
You’re made mute by the pain, left only with your nails as defense as you try and tear his back to shreds. You should know better, though - Johnny’s a masochist, and pain you inflict only drives him more insane.
“God, you’re fuckin’ stranglin’ me,” he pants, pulling out just enough to force himself a few inches deeper. “Thought your cunt was tight, but it’s nothin’ compared to this.”
“Johnny- please.”
“So fucking warm.” He looks nearly delirious above you, pupils blown so wide you can barely see his iris even as close as you are. “Tight.”
“Johnny,” you whine, even as the slide becomes a little bit easier from all the slick dripping from your cunt. “Hurts, please, you gotta… gotta stop.”
He makes a sound that’s somewhere between soothing and a snarl, a low sound that makes you instinctually arch further towards him and then yelp when that gives him more leverage.
“You’re fine,” he comforts - well, the words should be a comfort but his tone is almost dismissive. “You’re wet, I can feel it.”
“Not enough,” you cry, half choking on a sob when you feel him finally bottom out inside of you. “Ok, ok, please pull- pull out, Johnny.”
“But you feel so good,” he purrs, butting his nose against your temple. “Fuckin’ hot little ass, huh lass? You’re squeezin’ me so good, you sure you want me to pull out?”
“Yes!”
You feel the sharp smile pressed against your temple and hiccup a sob, shifting your legs so that instead of wrapping around him you’re trying to push him away. But he’s too strong for you to make him move, and he only shoves himself even further inside of you by leaning his weight forward.
“I think you’re lying,” he almost sings, grinding his hips deep inside of you. He shifts briefly, holding himself above you on one arm and sneaking the other between your bodies and down to your pussy.
You cry out when his fingers work quickly at your clit, tight fast circle that have you shaking and moaning. It’s almost enough to drown out the pain of having your back hole stretched so ruthlessly - almost.
“Here,” he says, dipping his hand down a little further to almost scoop the slick dripping from you, smearing it around your plugged hole like he’s trying to make up for the lack of lube in the first place. He pulls out about halfway, thrusting back in and moaning when you cry out. “Th-there, how’s that feel?”
“Still hurts,” you manage to get out through your sobs, eyes squeezed shut against the pain.
Johnny’s panting like a dog above you as he starts to fuck you again, his pace sharper and uncaring about your sensitivity. You can’t help but clench down, your inner muscles squeezing tight in an attempt to push him out that only drags him further in. 
You can’t do anything but lay there and take it - as he moans repeatedly into your ear - while he fucks you. The pain eases after a bit, your own wetness making the path at least slightly easier, but the sharp sting never fully dissipates. Your tears don’t dry up, and you’re nowhere close to the orgasm that had been building before.
Johnny’s your complete opposite - he’s lost in his own pleasure, and your desperate scratches down his back only make things better for him. If you’d thought he was euphoric before, he looks like he’s found Nirvana now. You’re not sure if he’s so wrapped up in his own pleasure that he can’t hear your pain, or if your pain is what’s driving him more and more insane with pleasure.
For your own sake, you pray it’s the first.
He doesn’t last long - thank God - and only a few minutes later his thrusts get choppier and choppier, jerking in and out of you without any rhythm at all.
“Gonna make me come, bonnie, fuck.”
You can only stare wide-eyed at the ceiling as Johnny buries his face in the crook of your neck and comes deep inside of your ass, the hot spurt of his come a distant sensation with the stretch of his cock still at the front of your mind.
“Alright, alright, pull… pull out now, Johnny, please,” you beg again, too shell-shocked to even flinch at the embarrassing crack in your voice.
He obeys wordlessly, pulling his limp cock out slowly enough to make you whine when he finally leaves you empty.
“Hush, hush,” he quiets you, pressing a kiss to your cheekbone and brushing over your spread hole with his fingers. You jolt and whine, turning to press your face into his sweat-soaked mohawk. “You’re alright, didn’t even tear.”
“You-you sure?” You sniffle.
He chuckles a little, the sound vibrating through your chests. “Yeah, you’re alright, lass. Didn’t think I would really hurt you, did’ya?”
You can only whine.
His fingers dip inside your back hole just long enough to drag out some of his come, moving up to shove it inside of your pussy.
“There ya go,” he soothes, repeating the process again and again. “Still got a nice load in your guts, you're alright." His fingers lift to your clit, rubbing in perfect circles to make you arch and gasp, squirming for more pleasure despite the growing ache in your other hole.
He brings you to a slow orgasm, one that has the last of your tears dripping down your cheeks and clinging to his shoulders like a life raft. Your breaths are uneven, heartbeat quick in your chest, and you feel fuzzy around the edges.
Unlike usual, Johnny stops at one orgasm. You almost expect him to keep going like he always does, never satisfied with less than three for you and two for him, but he pulls his hand away after your first pained whines start again.
He doesn’t get off of you, letting his weight push you deeper and deeper into the couch cushions. You wrap your arms around his neck, holding him close to you and breathing in his musk. It takes a while to get your breathing even again, though Johnny’s levels out in moments.
You only let your eyes close once his snores start up, loud in your ear. The rumbling of his chest is a comfort, and you float into sleep with Johnny’s sweaty body pressed firmly against every part of yours, and the ache in your ass only growing more noticeable with every breath.
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incognit0slut · 6 months
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BATTLE SCARS
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Part 2 of kinktober | main masterlist
What started out as innocently counting body scars with your coworker, who you were stuck in the same bed with, ended far from being innocent.
sub!spencer x fem!reader; Face sitting, male and female oral, body worship, cockwarming
words: 6,300 (I couldn’t help it the buildup was fun to write)
a/n: I hope this shows up on your page because apparently this app hates me
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"THERE’S ONLY ONE ROOM LEFT."
Of course, there is, you thought, eyes glancing over to your partner of the day. Spencer was the one you were partnered with when Hotch had sent you to check on the victim's childhood home. He's good at deducing clues, was what your unit chief had said, and although those words were well-intentioned, you couldn't help but feel slightly dejected.
One month of working in the BAU meant that everyone would scrutinize you, even when you knew you were more than capable of doing the job. It wasn't like you were randomly picked for this position. You went through the same process as everyone else did. You were as smart as everyone was but it seemed that your boss still thought you needed a babysitter to do this simple task.
One month of working as the latest addition to the team also meant you didn't know your colleagues that well, which was why you wondered what was going through Spencer's mind in this current predicament. What did he think of the sudden thunderstorm hitting this remote town just as you were about to leave? What did he feel about having to seek shelter because driving in this terrible condition wasn't a choice anymore?
And what ran through his mind when the guy behind the counter, who looked like he didn't even want to be here in the first place, said there was only one room left?
"Are you sure?" Your coworker pressed on, eyes darting across the computer screen sitting on the desk. "Did you check every room? All of them?"
The man in front of him quirked an eyebrow. "Are you saying I'm not doing my job right?"
"No, he's not," you cut in. You glanced at Spencer, noticing he was constantly fidgeting on his feet. You might not know him well enough, but you were a profiler, and with the way he kept shifting his weight from one leg to another, you could tell he was uncomfortable with the situation. You wondered what had him so worked up like this. Was it the idea of having to spend the night with a woman? 
Well, he did seem like the type of guy who didn't have his fair share of nights with the opposite sex, but then again, you weren't going to start guessing his personal life. Although you did once see him act all bashful in front of a witness who, you had to admit, was the epitome of sweet and innocent. Her traits were probably on the top list of his preferred type, exactly the opposite of yours.
Huh.
So was it just the idea of spending the night with you that ticked him off?
"It's fine," you said, looking back at—you narrowed your eyes at the name tag clipped on his shirt—Kevin. His name was Kevin. "We'll take it."
Spencer's eyes fell on you. "But—"
"But it's pouring outside and neither of us should be driving in this horrible weather," you added. "End of discussion."
He looked like he was about to retort a reply when a sudden string of light cackled through the night sky, followed by another heavy downpour. He winced as his shoulders slumped, another posture of discomfort but one with a hint of defeat. You saw him reluctantly nod from the corner of your eyes.
"Alright," he finally said. "We'll take it."
Kevin slid a key across the wooden desk. "Room 306."
You thanked him and grabbed onto the key before turning on your heels. The walk to the room was extremely quiet except for the constant sound of the rain pouring outside. Spencer shuffled his feet beside you, and even though you wanted to fill in the silence, the thought of him not wanting to room with you annoyed you more than you wanted to admit.
Were you really that bad? Was the idea of sharing a room with you repulsive for him to act this way?
When you finally reached your shared room, an immediate sense of awkwardness washed over you like an unexpected wave. The room, though not large, was well-furnished and neat. But what caught your attention was the sight that greeted you in the dimly lit space. In the center of the room was a bed—not large enough to be luxurious, yet not small enough to be cozy.
Your eyes met briefly with his and a moment of unease passed between you two. Finally, he broke the silence with a hesitant voice. "I can sleep in the car."
You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his suggestion. "It's pouring outside."
"Right." He sighed, realizing the impracticality of his proposal. "Well, then I'll, uh, sleep on the floor."
"Reid." Your narrowed eyes fixed on him, your patience wearing thin. "The bed is big enough for the both of us. I don't mind sharing."
He paused, clearly taken aback by your straightforward response. "A-Are you sure?"
"I wouldn't have suggested it if I wasn't," you replied, showing your back to him. "I'm going to use the bathroom first."
"U-uh, yes. Sure. Of course," he stammered, his voice trailing off as he watched you leave the room.
You retreated to the bathroom, closing the door behind you with a soft click. As you washed your hands and splashed some cool water on your face, you couldn't help but wonder what had led to his initial hesitance. The storm outside was fierce, and the idea of venturing into it to sleep in the car or on the floor seemed impractical, to say the least. You knew that sharing the bed was the most sensible option, but there was an unspoken tension in the room, and you couldn't quite put your finger on why he had been so reluctant.
Turning off the tap, you took a deep breath. Whatever. He could act all uncomfortable as much as he wanted and you could pretend he wasn't even there. So you decided to shed your jeans, leaving yourself in the oversized button-up shirt that served as your makeshift nightwear.
The shirt fell gracefully to the middle of your thighs, offering a sense of ease you couldn't find in your uncomfortable jeans. With them neatly folded and placed on the bathroom counter, you looked back into the mirror one last time, straightening your wrinkled shirt, and ran a hand through your hair before stepping back into the room.
You found him seated on the edge of the bed, his posture awkward and uncertain. You watched as he shifted uncomfortably, his gaze darting toward the single window in the shared space, his eyes narrowing each time a particularly strong gust of wind rattled the pane.
You decided to break the silence. "You know, it's just a little rain. We'll be out of here as soon as the weather clears up tomorrow."
His gaze finally met yours, and you saw a mixture of frustration and something else, something deeper, in his eyes. "It's not about the rain," he replied, his voice laced with a hint of exasperation.
So it really was about you.
His gaze then traveled over your exposed skin, and you could see his eyes growing wide, clearly taken aback by your choice of attire. "W- What are you wearing?"
Unable to suppress a chuckle at his sudden shift in demeanor, you decided to play along. "Do you mean what I'm not wearing?"
He blinked, his response caught in his throat, leaving him momentarily speechless. His gaping mouth and wide-eyed expression only fueled your amusement. You shrugged in response, trying to play off his intense gaze, but you felt his eyes linger on your thigh, fixated on the long scar mapping along your skin.
"Reid," you called out, and he looked up at you, his expression wry as if he had been caught doing something he shouldn't have been.
"Y-yes?" he stammered, clearly flustered by being caught in the act.
You pointed toward the bathroom. "You can use it now," you suggested.
His face lit up with realization. "Oh! Right," he exclaimed, his flustered state evident as he stumbled on his way to the bathroom.
The awkwardness seemed to follow him as he disappeared into the other room. After turning off the main lights, you left only the soft glow of the bed lamp, which cast a warm ambiance in the room. The covers provided a sense of security and comfort as you finally settled beneath them.
A few minutes later, he emerged from the bathroom, dressed in a white shirt he seemed to wear under his button-down shirt. However, unlike you, he still had his pants on, although he did discard his belt.
Seeing him in this stripped-down, casual state was a bizarre sight. You had grown accustomed to his poised and professional demeanor, and the sight of him dressed in ordinary clothes seemed oddly intimate as if you were witnessing a side of him that few others had seen. It was as if you were seeing him naked even when he was still covered in most of his clothes.
He then settled onto the bed with a noticeable awkwardness, causing the mattress to sink down slightly under his weight. He lay far away from you, in a stiff and distant manner, clearly still grappling with the awkwardness of the situation.
"Reid, relax, I'm not going to bite you," you said reassuringly, trying to dispel some of the tension in the room. A small, playful smile danced on your lips. "Unless that's what you want me to do," you added, your voice taking on a teasing note.
A brief moment of silence followed, and it almost seemed as if he was contemplating your playful offer. You felt the tension shift into something else, but before it could further linger, you decided to break the silence with a forced laugh, shaking off the tension. You then rolled over to your side, closing your eyes shut, ignoring the sound of heavy rain hitting the window and the bolt of lightning occasionally flashing through the sky. You just wanted to rest. You just wanted peace. You wanted to sleep.
But sleep didn't want you.
About ten minutes later, you groaned softly and rolled over onto your back. "Reid," you said, breaking the silence.
He hummed in response.
"I can't sleep," you confessed, your voice carrying a hint of restlessness. Turning to face him, you propped yourself up on your elbow. "Tell me something about yourself," you suddenly requested, your curiosity cutting through the awkwardness.
He hesitated for a moment as if considering whether he should respond to you or not, but then he eventually asked, "Anything?" 
"Anything."
"Well, I—uh," he cut off, and with a faint hint of modesty, he began again. "I'm extremely smart."
From all the information he could share, he decided to share that. But it was still something, at least you could get your coworker to talk instead of fidgeting in discomfort. "Yeah? How smart?"
"Well, I have an IQ of 187 and three PhDs."
Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. "That's impressive," you responded, but then you let out a scoff. "And extremely conceited. Someone asks you to share a fact about yourself and you decide to brag about your brain."
Your remark earned you a small, amused smile from him. "You told me to share anything."
With a mischievous glint in your eye, you leaned in a little closer. "Alright, your turn."
He gulped at your sudden movement but kept his attention on your eyes. "My turn for what?"
You laid on your back again. "Ask me something," you suggested.
There was a moment of hesitation as if he had been contemplating whether to ask the question and then his voice filled the air. "What happened to you?"
"What do you mean?" You asked, your brows furrowed slightly.
"Y-Your scar."
You couldn't resist a teasing tone as you turned your head toward him. "Spencer Reid," you taunted, a playful glint in your eye. "Were you checking me out?"
His response was quick and slightly flustered. "What? No!" He cleared his throat awkwardly. "It was a mere observation," he clarified, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush.
Your laughter filled the room, a light, and genuine sound that seemed to dissolve some of the remaining tension in the air. "Alright, alright," you conceded, still amused by the exchange. "Observation duly noted."
Without warning, you kicked off the covers, a spontaneous decision driven by a mix of curiosity and the playful atmosphere that had developed between you. Your actions were unanticipated, even to yourself, but perhaps it was his flustered self that had spurred you on.
As the covers fell to the side, you extended your leg, showing him the white scar dancing along the inner part of your thigh. His eyes widened in surprise, his gaze drawn to your exposed skin. For a moment, there was silence, as if the room held its breath, and then he met your eyes.
"Fell off a cliff from a hiking trip," you explained, your voice softening with the memory. "I was exploring a trail and had a bit of a mishap. It left me with this scar as a souvenir."
His eyes flickered over the scar. "Did it hurt?"
You shrugged. "It did, but I guess I got through it."
Then, to his surprise, you began to unbutton your shirt. His eyes widened in disbelief at your actions. "W-what are you doing?"
You merely grinned in response, your confidence unwavering. You pushed the material of your shirt off your shoulder, revealing another scar, smaller and darker than the one on your thigh. "This is the most painful one," you explained. "A bullet from a handgun."
He examined the scar intently. "What happened?"
"A chase with a suspect a few years ago," you recounted, recalling your life before you joined the BAU. "We cornered the suspect in an abandoned warehouse, it was a tense standoff. He was armed, and in the chaos of the moment, a shot was fired." You gave him a smile. "I was the unlucky one in the way."
Your eyes locked with one another in a moment of shared understanding, and then you asked, "What about you? Any battle scars?"
He paused for a moment, considering your question. He seemed hesitant at first as if debating whether to share, but then he slowly lifted his shirt, revealing a scar on his lower abdomen. "Flying bullet."
He turned slightly, revealing a slight scar on his lower back, the result of a sharp weapon grazing his skin. It was a subtle yet significant mark. "An Unsub armed with a knife." He then laid back on his back again and tapped his right leg. "There's another scar from a bullet on my knee."
You couldn't help but tease him lightly, your tone playful. "Well, aren't you a magnet for disaster?"
His expression softened at your teasing. You stared at each other silently, taking in each other's presence in the close proximity the bed offered. You weren't sure how, or when for the matter, but it seemed the distance you both created grew shorter in the span of time you were talking.
Your gaze drifted over his features, from his brown orbs to his pointed nose, then along his high cheekbones before settling on the small scar underneath his jawline. It was a subtle mark, but it caught your attention, and you couldn't resist reaching out to gently touch it.
"What about this?" you inquired, your finger tracing the scar. "How did you get it?"
His breath seemed to catch at your sudden touch, and he stammered slightly in response, "I-I cut myself with a razor this morning."
You couldn't help but chuckle at his explanation, and your finger continued to graze his skin, skimming along the faded scar in a circular motion. "And how bad did it hurt?" you asked.
"Not so much," he whispered, his breathing starting to become uneven and it was at that moment you realized how compromising of a position you were in. He was on his back, and somehow you managed to press yourself onto him with a leg resting on his, your hips flushed against his side.
Maybe the rain, the rhythmic pattern of the raindrops beating in synchronized with your heart pushed your actions. Or perhaps it was being in the same bed. Whatever it was, the undeniable proximity between you created a charged atmosphere in the room. Every breath felt heavy, and the air seemed to thicken with unspoken tension, drawing you even closer.
You wanted to kiss him. How could you not when he was looking at you with those eyes? It was hard to ignore this sudden pull of attraction, but Spencer seemed like the type of guy who rarely made the first move. Maybe you needed to initiate it first.
"You know..." you began, your eyes trailing across his tiny scar. "I was thinking of kissing it better?" Your words hung in the air, and you felt him stiffen beside you. "If it was painful, that is."
A charged silence enveloped the room after your suggestive offer. Your heart raced, taking a leap at the first step in crossing the line. He could either play along or push you away, it was a risk you were willing to take, and you prayed he was into it just as you were.
"A- Actually," he stuttered. "I think I'm starting to feel the pain now."
You bit your bottom lip to stop yourself from smiling. "Oh, you poor thing." And before he could respond, you bent over and pressed your soft lips against his scar. You felt him momentarily freeze. "Better?"
You thought he was about to back away when he didn't answer, but then his words had you grinning from ear to ear.
"...I'm not sure," he replied, his voice cutting through the silence. "I think it still hurts?"
Your smile grazed his scar again, softly, barely even touching it, before you trailed down his jawline, stopping on the crook of his neck.
"I.." He breathed out, his voice sounding strangled as you felt his grip on your hip. "I-I don't think that's where the scar is."
"I know." You opened your mouth, your tongue slightly tasting his skin. "I'm making a scar of my own."
Your parted lips were hot against his skin, his eyes fluttering close as you softly sucked on the spot below his ear. You always loved receiving neck kisses, but giving them? There was a certain sense of power to be able to make someone shiver under you, and it was what he was doing right now, breath hitching every time you sucked on a different spot.
You cupped his face as you continued to trail your lips along his neck, pressing your body closer to his. You moved your hand lower, fingers grazing his jawline before it rested around his throat, and as you put slight pressure on your hold, you heard him inhale sharply. You paused, not sure you were hearing right, but then you tightened your grip around his neck and a soft, strangled moan escaped his lips.
You smiled.
Spencer Reid, you naughty, kinky boy.
"We can stop if you want," you murmured against his skin because truthfully, you knew you couldn't restrain yourself after this.
"N- no," he sighed. "Don't stop."
It was enough for you to throw your leg over him. You lifted yourself up and straddled his lower half, stifling a moan as you felt the hard pressure between your thighs, and pressed your lips against his. You couldn't stop yourself from kissing him with so much fervor. Your lips collided with his as you pushed your tongue inside his opened mouth—tasting him, exploring him, devouring him. Who would've thought you would enjoy kissing your coworker this much?
You pulled away and studied him. Spencer was a blessing to witness. His eyes were heavy and hooded, his hair was disheveled with some strands stuck to his forehead and his lips were swollen and parted as he breathed slowly through them. His pale complexion bore the marks of a flush and you couldn't stop yourself from pushing away a strand of hair from his face.
"You're so pretty." Those words came out of your mouth without much thought in which you received a breathless sigh in return.
"You're.... you're more pretty."
You giggled and ran your fingers through his hair. "You understand I'm not going to stop now, right?" He faintly nodded. "And do you know what that means?"
He shook his head.
"It means I'm going to fuck you," you taunted, a wicked smile curling on your lips. "I'm going to fuck you so hard you won't be able to use that smart brain of yours.”
The whine flying out of his mouth was enough for you to lean in closer, your lips extremely close to his but not quite touching. "Can I be rough?" His strangled whimper had you wrapping your hand around his throat again. "Use your words, baby."
"Y-yes," he breathed out. "Please."
"Good."
You pulled your hand back and brought it down sharply on his cheek.  The sound startled you because it sounded harder than it felt, ringing out loud with only the faintest sting on your palm.
Spencer looked genuinely surprised. His head turned with the impact of the slap, jaw falling open.  He blinked himself back into focus and you were about to ask if you were being too much, but then he looked at you in a way he had never looked at you before. The dazed and desperation of his gaze moved right through you, flushing you with heat.
"Such a pretty boy for me," you said, gently rubbing his cheek. You watched him, a curious smile playing at the corners of your lips. In that moment, you felt a peculiar sense of power and intimacy that was unlike any other you had experienced. It was an odd but exhilarating sensation, feeling an almost illicit delight in the power you held over him.
You then slowly straightened yourself. Taking your time, you began to unbutton your shirt as his gaze burned into you. You popped each button open until it left the sight of your black, laced bra on display for his eyes to devour. Your bra showed a hint of skin over the top, bouncing a little as you pulled yourself out of your shirt.
You reached behind your back to unhook your bra before slipping it from your shoulders, allowing your breasts to bounce free. Spencer couldn't help but swipe his tongue across his lips at the sight. Your breasts were on display with hardened, aching nipples to taunt him. You brought them in your palms, playing and squeezing your flesh for a moment just to tease him.
"Do you want to taste me?"
He let out a desperate sigh. "Please."
You placed the palm of your hands on his chest before leaning in, dropping your breasts right in front of his face. It didn't take him long to know what you wanted, and he quickly wrapped your right nipple in his mouth, his tongue hot against your skin.
"Fuck, Spencer," you moaned. You shivered upon the contact. His mouth sucking on your nipple was making your head delirious. Warmth spiraled from your core to the rest of your body as he tasted you, and when you thought you couldn't feel more aroused than you already were, he let go of your swollen nipple just to give his attention to the other one, sucking even harder.
You couldn't handle it anymore. A moment later your fingers ran down his chest, brushing over his stomach to feel him tense beneath your touch until the second you grip the hem of his pants. "Take these off for me."
You had never seen someone move so fast before. The moment you climbed off the bed, he started peeling his clothes from his body piece by piece. He left no article on before throwing his clothes to the floor, eyes raking your body as you stood before him in nothing but your panties. Those were quick to go, however. You pushed them down your hips and flicked the thin fabric past your feet.
A strained groan filled his chest as he looked at you, marveling at your naked form with wonder. Thoughtlessly he wrapped a hand around the base of his hardened cock and your eyes instantly take in the sight. The way he was biting his bottom lip, fingers around his thick, hard length had your mouth watering, but you stopped yourself from giving in.
"Who said you could touch yourself?"
His body tensed. He quickly placed his hands on the bed as you climbed back on the bed, the mattress sinking in from your weight.
“I like to be warmed up a little first," you told him as you settled on top of him again, but this time, you scooted further, putting your knees on either side of his head. Spencer's eyes went wide as he looked up to see you wet and bare, hovering inches away from his face.
"I'm going to sit on your face, and if you can make me come on your tongue..." You started to lower yourself. "I'll give you your reward."
You felt his breath on your center, and the minute his tongue touched you, you let out a moan. He worked his tongue over your clit, swallowing every drop of arousal dripping down his mouth. You gripped the headboard and rocked yourself back and forth while he continued to lap on your pussy without any care for the mess you made. You were wet and sloppy as his tongue moved in and out of you, up and down your folds while also sucking on your swollen clit.
"Oh my god," you moaned, looking down at where you could see the top of his face, his eyes closed as he groaned on your flesh, wrapping his arm around your thighs while never stopping stroking your wetness with his tongue. He held you tight, keeping you in place, and there was nothing else you could do but buck your hips as you ran your hands through his hair and tugged on the strands, receiving a deep, rough yet excited groan from him.
You exhaled his name, not being able to find the words or the breath in you to speak as you felt the familiar coil in your stomach. He flicked his tongue over your clit a few times before gathering up your juices and circling back to the swollen bud, massaging your flesh with the flat of his tongue. You felt the bliss swelling inside your body. You knew you wouldn't last much longer.
"I'm getting close," you warned him, beginning to grind your pussy against his mouth. He groaned against your flesh, sending vibrations through your body in return, and with a few more laps around your clit, you finally reached your high.
You felt the warmth from between your legs surge through your whole body. Your pussy walls tightened as you kept rocking your hips against him, whimpering, moaning, crying out that you were coming. You shivered and trembled above him, tossing your head back, gripping his hair even tighter, and pressing your thighs together around his head.
It took a moment for you to come down from your orgasm, and as you did, his motions slowed down, licking you gently, his hands soothing down your thighs. You finally lift your hips off his face, hovering above him on shaky thighs.
"You did so well," you cooed. You slowly shifted down his body, and when he thought you were about to straddle him again, you surprised him by moving lower.
“Let me give you your reward." You sighed while wrapping your fingers around the base of his cock in a firm grip. "You deserve it."
He felt so hot in your hand, so thick, so big, and utterly beautiful. You slowly moved your hand along his length, stroking him gently as you watched his lips parting open from the pleasure. You continued to stroke him, motions slow and steady, and he eventually closed his eyes, head falling back against the bed. You swiped your thumb across the tip, his eyes shot open as he looked at you.
"Keep your eyes on me."
He carefully propped himself on his elbows to get a better view just as you gripped him tighter while leaning close. The droplet of wetness on the tip looked too nice to be ignored so you leaned in and licked it up, your eyes meeting his gaze, and his jaw slacked open in pure pleasure. A pause settled in the room before you finally took him fully in your mouth, giving him an exploratory suck.
You kept swallowing him down, your jaw stretching wide as you struggled to get every inch of him inside your mouth, wrapping your hand around what was left. You hollowed your cheeks and greedily inhaled him. His smooth, warm length slid across your tongue and his cock hit the back of your throat.
Without warning his hips jerked up, and you gagged, rearing back off with a cough, eyes watering. "I'm s-sorry," he apologized.
"It's okay, baby, I'm giving you your reward," you whispered before holding his throbbing cock in your grip again. "Hold my hair up for me?"
He did exactly as he was told, gathering your hair in his hands. Your mouth enclosed around him again and you repeated the movement, trailing down his cock with your tongue, hands twisting back and forth, lips sliding back down until you had every inch of him in your mouth.
You glanced up at him, brow-raising mischievously as you moved your head in a rapid motion. He panted out a whine, his chest heaving as he inhaled a lung full of desperately needed air.
"Please..." he whimpered, bucking up ever so slightly. His cheeks burned at the sound of his own desperation. You gazed up at him, entranced by his sweat-slicked, heaving body, so pretty and needy. He blinked down at you, your cheeks flushed and lips stretched wide, an utterly obscene sight as you kept swallowing the entire length of him.
And then you felt him starting to shake,  his body trembling while the grip on your hair tightened at every stroke of your tongue. You could tell he was on the brink of exploding, yet you didn't want him to finish inside your mouth, so you pulled away just as quickly as you began.
You could tell he was about to whine a protest, but he immediately stopped himself as you climbed on his lap, gripping his cock in your hand and guiding it towards your aching pussy. But then you stopped, eyes meeting with his, your voice softening. "Should I use a condom?"
"You can..." he mumbled as if it was hard to even articulate any words when his tip was already brushing against your wetness. "You can do whatever you want."
You lingered for a moment, grinding yourself against the tip of him, getting wetter as your arousal dripped out. "I want to feel you."
The whimper he let out was loud, almost pornographic. "I want to feel you too."
Then you began to slide his cock into you, slowly, taking your time to draw the moment out. Your body went tense in an instant, you could hardly handle the way his size was pushing into you.
"Fuck, you're stretching me," you moaned the words, tossing your head back while closing your eyes. The content sigh leaving your lips was loud when his tip finally hit that soft spot. You had never felt this full before and you wanted to soak in the way he was filling you so deep, so you buried your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent as you sit there with his cock stuffed inside of you.
For you, it felt nice, but for him, it was torture. As warm as you were, as tight as you clenched him, he still needed more. With urgency, he reached for your body before his eager hands landed on your hips, a groan of desperation built in his throat as you stayed there, not moving a muscle. "Can... can you move?"
You kissed a spot below his ear. "Why should I?"
"I-I..."
"Use your words, baby. Tell me what you want." Your tone was soft, but you didn't drop the entirety of your dominance. "Do you want me to ride you? Is that it? You want me to fuck you senseless?"
"Yes," he rasped out as if he had been holding his breath. "Please..." 
You gripped him by the throat. "Say it."
"Pl-please fuck me," he gasped, gulping for air.
You smiled.
"Good boy," you replied. You began moving against his cock, grinding yourself over his lap, feeling him fill you up and hit deep inside you. It was almost too much but you remained focused. Your palms pressed to his shoulders as you pushed yourself up, moving your hips against his body.
He could feel you squeezing him. Every roll of your hips, every flutter of your walls, and every moan that rumbled from your chest. His huge palms wandered over the small planes of your back, caressing every dip and roll of your body. His eyes glazed over to where you were connected, the sight of your pussy clenching around every inch of him lulled him into a bewitching trance.
Soon you found a somewhat steady rhythm, circling your hips and grinding down on him faster, picking up your pace. You felt your heart drumming against your ribcage and the concoction of arousal running down your thigh and dripping onto his legs.
"God, you're going to make me come so quick," you cried, your hand lowering between your thighs to reach your clit. With two fingers, you began to massage your flesh while bouncing down his cock, riding him, feeling the tip so deep within your walls. You let loose, moaning and whimpering. He couldn't help but groan, feeling your walls tighten around him, feeling your juices drip down his groin.
You felt him thrust upward towards you, following your pace, and a second orgasm started building low in your stomach. You felt it everywhere, from the tips of your fingers to the edge of your toes. It thrummed every nerve, vibrating you to the bone. "Fuck, I'm close."
His breath quickened as he felt your walls clenching him, his eyes brushing every inch of your body. You were such a sight to see. He was entranced by the way you were thrusting yourself on his cock, your breasts bouncing from the movement, your taut nipples begging for attention. He couldn't stop himself when he suddenly pulled you in, momentarily surprising you, and sucked onto your nipple hungrily.
You cried out when you felt his teeth softly tugging your nub. You were supposed to be in control, and you still wanted to keep your dominance, but it was hard to when he suddenly planted his feet on the bed and thrust his hips into you at a mind-numbing speed. Harshly. Roughly. Violently.
"Fucking hell, Spencer," you moaned, holding onto his shoulders. "I-I'm gonna—"
His fingers dug harshly into the tender skin of your sides, his hips were bucking up uncontrollably, desperate to reach the blissful relief. His tone became ragged as he groaned what sounded like your name entwined. He closed his eyes and threw his head back, suddenly overwhelmed by the feeling that began uncoiling in his entire body. You grabbed onto his unruly hair, tugging it back roughly before smearing open-mouthed kisses all over his throat and collarbones, voicing out your whimpers right into his ear.
That was enough for him—he came undone, allowing his muscles to contract one last time as he spilled into you, filling you completely with warmth with one last thrust. You followed him with a scream, wrenched from your throat so roughly it seared its way out of your lungs and into the air. Your movements became sloppy and uneven, clinging onto him as you chased your own high.
The room smelt of sex. It was your first thought when you finally felt your body relaxing, your mind coming back to its senses. Never, not even once in your life, have you ever considered kissing Spencer willingly.
Yes, he was handsome. Yes, he had the most amazing eyes, and yes, his soft demeanor did attract you the first time you met him, but that was it. He was simply your coworker, one you didn't know that well, one who seemed to make a big deal out of spending the night with you... and ironically, one who had you shaking in pleasure.
You weren't sure what would happen next. At first, you thought your presence ticked him off in the wrong way because you were the new, inexperienced member of the team... but now you couldn't help but speculate the way he acted differently towards you had something to do with what just happened.
Maybe he didn't think of you as a mere colleague... maybe he thought of you as someone potentially more? You could be right, or you could be wrong, and there was only one way to find out. You softly let your fingers brush his cheek.
"You need to take me out on a proper date," you suggested through the silence. Then a smile bloomed on your face when you felt him dip his head in your palm.
The nod he gave you couldn't be anymore faster.
3K notes · View notes
indulgentdaydream · 3 months
Text
Drawing Touches
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Jason Todd x gn!Reader
Fluff. || Word Count: 936
Summary: You wake up on a hot summer night, Jason sleeping beside you. It’s too hot to sleep right next to each other, so why not play a game?
there’s something about shirtless jason and a groggy sleepy voice to match. Also you can see a demonstration of my left handed!jason hc in this and I didn't realize until after.
Side note: i hate the winter and i just really want the warmth even if it’s overbearing so that’s why i made it summer in this fic
Warnings: scar mentions (specifically on back), broken wrist, use of pet names (darling, baby)
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Jason hadn’t gone on patrol. This time, you didn’t have to try as hard to convince him to stay while he was injured.
“I might as well,” he had sighed, sitting on the couch. His cast-ridden left hand (where your name was signed in big bold letters) rested beside him on the arm, “I can’t do much with only one hand.”
Now, the two of you were laying in bed. It was a hot summer night and your apartment had no air conditioning. Again.
You had fallen asleep in a tank top and shorts, the blankets thrown off of you early into the night. You were spread out on your back, trying to fall back asleep after waking up to the sound of a car honking in the street below. You let out a breath. It wasn’t hot enough to make you sweat through your clothes, but it was enough to be a tad uncomfortable. You turned onto your side to face Jason.
You assumed he was asleep. He was also on his side, facing away from you, shirtless. The expanse of his scarred, bare back on full display for you in the dark room. He had basketball shorts on “for decency”, and had kept the blankets covering his legs.
You watched his shoulders rise and fall with his breaths, convincing you that he was asleep. It put a smile on your face, seeing the usually stress-ridden man so calm, curled up on your bed.
Scooting closer, you reached out a hand. Ever so slightly, you began to brush your fingers along his back. Your fingers dipped and rose with the scars there, pondering them.
Some you knew, some you didn’t. Some you remembered him getting. One made you recall how he laid beneath you, coaching you through stitching him up as he tried to hide the pain in his voice.
The vibration of his grumble made its way through his skin and into your finger tips. “Thought you were asleep,” he mumbled out, voice groggy.
Feeling the guilt, you place your hand flat along his back, whispering, “Did I wake you?”
“No,” he flipped onto his back slowly, giving you enough time to move your hand, “Been awake since that car honked. Was watchin’ the window.”
Maybe he hadn’t been as stress free as you had believed, “It woke me up, too. It’s too hot to fall back asleep.”
He rubs at his eye with his right hand. His left one drapes over his stomach, the cast blending into the shadows, “Felt good.”
You looked up at him, “The heat?”
He chuckled tiredly, turning his head to look at you, his cheek squished against the pillow, “Your fingers on my back.”
You smiled at him. The two of you were still a few inches apart from each other, an unspoken agreement that it was too hot to cuddle.
“Wanna play a game?” You whispered.
He hummed, “What game?”
“Turn back around.”
Jason let out a low grumble, very close to a whine, “Wanna see you.”
You laugh again, “Turn!”
He grumbled again, turning back onto his side, facing away from you.
Your fingers returned to his back, “Try and guess what I draw.”
He stayed still as you moved your finger. You drew a big circle, which was a little shaky wherever your finger collided with a bumpy scar. After completing it, you made quick, straight lines shooting out from the circle all around it.He didn’t speak again until you were finished, “Mmmmh… lion.”
You giggled, “No.”
He let out a fake groan, “Flower?”
You shook your head, the fabric of the sheets and your pillow rustling underneath you, “Mm-mm.”
Jason thought for a moment, “Do an easier one.”
You clicked your tongue, but did so anyway. You swiped the flat of your hand across his back, pretending to erase the drawing, before beginning the new one.
You could hear the smile in his voice, “A heart.”
You couldn’t help but smile back, “Mm-hmm.”
He turned back around, “My turn.”
Now you flipped over, facing away from him as he faced your back. He pushed your shirt up to get to your bare back, his finger beginning to glide along your skin. You laughed as he drew a square, “It has to be more complicated than that, Jay!”
“As complicated as your first one?” He joked back.
“It was a sun. It wasn’t that complicated.”
He pauses for a moment, “It was a sun?”
You laugh, “Yes. Now make a drawing.”
He poked your side a little first before continuing. You almost chided him for drawing another square, but he built off of it. A sharp arch above it, with smaller, indistinct details below the arch, in the middle of where he drew the square.
His hand rested on your waist as he waited for you to think and guess, “A house?”
He leaned in and kissed your shoulder, “You got it, darling.”
You giggled and tried to flip back over again, but got blocked by his chest.
“No more,” he hummed. He nestled his head into your shoulder, pulling you back into his chest, spooning you despite the warmth in the room. “Sleep time.”
You huffed, though unbothered by his cuddles, “You didn’t like my game?”
You feel his smile against your neck, “Loved it. I’m just tired, baby.”
His right hand rests against your sternum. You pick it up, kissing his knuckles, before intertwining your fingers together and placing his hand back down, “Goodnight, again, Jay.”
He smiled, “G’night again.”
“Jay it’s too hot to cuddle.”
“Yeah, no, I’m remembering that now.”
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Side note: did any of you play this game as a kid? It never had a name, but my mom and i would do it all the time. It was just a question of “can i draw on your back?” Lemme know!
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svndaysaweek · 2 months
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You Don’t Even Know My Name, Do You? — {Feat. Minji}
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3.1k words
A/N: Hi! It’s me, back in 6 months! I had the idea for this one since last summer, but never really made it a fic. But now I post it…! It’s a rushed fic, no editing, I’m sorry for any grammatical errors or typos. Thank you @praeluxius for help and advice in making the conversation better and more natural! Thanks for 1.6k followers and most importantly 1k notes for ‘Niche’!!! Enjoy reading this and luv you all…!
******
Subways late at night are dangerous, and you can’t deny it’s because of you. Drunken bodies swaying along the rail, left and right, back and forth, grasping up on their wasted balance not to embarrass themselves by falling on the floor. Less than an hour left from waving away the day, you can tell where others in the train came from—bars, karaokes, or anywhere with entertainment and alcohol. Returning home after having some fun to wrap up the day and live the following day. Victims of society, some say, but that’s what all people are. We work, get paid. Victims don’t get to enjoy themselves, do they? But to be honest, you’re not the one to care for them, the victims, when you’re one of the victimizers.
You’re standing next to the door, the best position to scan the people in and out, empirically certified by yourself. There are quite a few people in the car—only a few seats available and half of the people chose to spare the seats empty. You’re holding onto a steel bar and slightly leaning your weight on it, eyeing thoroughly for your prey. But there’s no one yet to suit your taste, no one looking good and wealthy.
The mechanical female voice informs the next stop and a few dozens of seconds later the train halts for another group of people to be added to your menu.
“Alright, alright! I’m not that stupid to let someone just, like, snatch my purse away, huh?”
You hear a girl talking to her phone, laughing like she just heard the dumbest advice ever. A crop top for her defined belly to be open, relatively baggy jeans hinting the sculpted curve of her hips and full-blown outlines of legs. Within a second that girl has made everyone in the car latch their eyes on her doing nothing.
“What the fuck? I didn’t drink that much tonight I swear, and fuck, even an alcoholic won’t forget his own name,”
The girl, however, certainly looks drunk, sounds drunk, and acts drunk. Her eyes barely stay open, her tongue hardly makes her words clear. You can even smell how much she poured down her throat. It’s becoming more and more fit for your ideal condition.
Her talk goes on for a few more minutes then she puts her phone in her handbag and looks into the dark, mirror-like window. Her blinks become lazier and slower by the second, alcohol weighing her eyelids, but she does her best to stay up. She looks around to shake off the fatigue and meets your eyes, which have been on her since the moment she walked in. Three seconds is enough to make her look away in shyness, but it isn’t enough for her to examine you as her eyes lock with yours again.
She lets her eyes travel down your body to your toes slowly through(in) the window, alcohol erasing the fact that the subway is public. You pretend to neglect as she keeps eyeing you, head to toe several times, and the next stop the stumbly girl is forced to stand next to you by the crowd gushing in. Unavoidable contacts add leads to your eyes awkwardly meeting, which draws out mirrored smiles from each.
“Sorr-oh!”
A slight rattle of the train almost tackles her down but your arms are there to hold her from meeting the floor. 
"Careful, you almost hit your head, could have ended up like our friend over there." You nod and gesture at old man asleep at the other end of the carriage
"He looks peaceful though."
"You think you can stand up by yourself now?"
"Of Course! I'm not even that drunk."
"The last time my friend said that, he ended up face down in a bush." As soon as you’re done talking she stumbles again to her embarrassment. And of course you keep her standing.
"So you didn't catch him?"
"He's not as cute as you." She laughs and blushes, palm on her mouth and the tone a bit too high for a laughter in a subway. 
“Where do you live?” Change of topic, and you’re surprised that it’s her asking you, not the other way around as it used to be.
“Two stops before the terminus.” She checks where the train currently is, and stares at the map for a few dozen seconds as if her brain is still soaked with drinks, before looking back at you and pointing to the map.
“I’m getting off two stops later,” She blushes again, this time there’s even an awkward smile on her face. As if trying to say something shameful.
“And…” Her fidgety fingers dig into the arm of your shirt and her eyes are fixed on your shoes to never climb up. “And?” You repeat her, grin on your face because of her being so bashful and how overt her real intention is.
“And my name’s Minji by the way. Kim Minji.” It's trickery. A decoy. You almost burst into laughter but keep it down to a debonair ‘mhmm’ instead, hoping to bail Minji out of her own struggle to let the real words out.
And her phone rings. “No, not yet. Only two stops left. No, I don’t sound slurry at all, thanks. Oh my god, Hanni. I said I’m not that drunk! Yeah, I met a guy and maybe he’s taking me to my place-oh my god.” A brief moment of soberness washes through her body but her face is even rosier than ever. Over her phone you hear a woman shouting ‘hey’s and her name, but soon Minji hangs up. The train halts, and she just rushes between the crowd to get off out of shame but you catch her arm.
“Hey, it’s the wrong station.” She can’t look at your smirking face even facing you, face still red and fumbles the hem of her top. “Sorry for that… That was a total mistake.”
“It’s okay,” Minji raises her head, looks at you. “You’re drunk like hell, and you were going to say that anyways.” She's left speechless for a moment, then she opens her mouth to say something but frowns ignorantly.
“Why are you laughing? I was so embarrassed!” She's overtly trying to act cute and it's so working on you. With drunken red cheeks, slurry, lethargic pronunciation and on top of everything, her mesmerizing face. Even your most prior purpose is being threatened to melt by her exhilarating cuteness. 
“It’s nothing.” But your lips just can’t hide your smile, and there is more than one reason; Minji’s being so clingy, which is what usually happens when alcohol infiltrates people’s brains, and it is an aid for you as always. And when the announcement informs you of the next stop, her babyish grumbles are gone and shyness permeates again.
“So… Are you going to take me to my place…?” You hold out our arms and guide the groggy girl out of the train. “After you.” Minji can’t subdue the chuckles from the dizzy liquor, how sensible you are, at least in her opinion, and the fact that you two are going to stay the night together in her place. 
On the other hand, for you the reasons are somewhat different; it’s because tonight you made it, will see some pennies in your pocket and will be able to keep your stomach filled for a few more days. And she’s completely blind for that, giggling so innocently like what she’d do with her lover.
It must be her first time flirting with a guy. She can’t just follow anybody she likes. It’s dangerous. She can’t just trust anybody because he’s amiable. There could be a vice in his mind, transgressions at the tips of his fingers. Somebody should warn her about this, you think. How paradoxical. Maybe you won’t be doing this for long. But that’s something to worry about later.
All these thoughts pass through your mind in less than a second, and when you look back at her you see the green, innocent girl fluttered with excitement. “Lead the way please.” And she does.
******
“This is my place, it might be a little bit messy but-“ Minji opens the door and you close. “It’s okay. No one cares.” She sounds like the soberness has returned, but when you catch her ridiculously stumbling changing her shoes into slippers, ask if she’s okay, and she answers back that she’s alright, you just find yourself tentative about what’s in your mind.
“Are we going to kiss?” You know it’s a tipsy whim. You know she might not know what she’s doing. But it’s her asking you, not the opposite, she has no one to blame but herself, and you also know that she won’t. So you give it a go.
Her lips feel soft. You kiss her lips in a gingerly manner, eyes closed to focus all your senses to your lips. It feels like forever, but it’s obviously provisional so you do your best to find the perfect angle of your head, the right position of your hands, and the exact moment for your tongue to engage. A brief detach and then smoothly latch onto again, and a several times more, and in no time you two are completely submerged in the sensation, in the atmosphere and the feeling.
You open her lips with your tongue, and the key works so well you don’t even have to put any more effort to meet hers; she’s been waiting for it. When you taste her mouth, the alcoholic air hits your gustation and the olfactory sense—Jesus, how many glasses did she empty?—and you swallow it down to your body. Her tongue jockeys in your mouth, on your palate, around your tongue, everywhere it can reach. She’s so needy that when you try to withdraw for some air her arms lock you up and pull you in for a longer liplock.
But that doesn’t last long, before Minji herself pulls back to breathe.
“Minji,” Gasping, you call her name. She doesn’t respond. She takes your hand and drags you to her bedroom. It’s tidied up well unlike what she warned you about, but you don’t have any time to be infatuated with how neat her bedroom is, when her hasty tongue knocks on your lips to open up.
She really can’t hold it back as she redoubles the whirl inside your mouth. At this point you’re a bit shocked at how aggressive she has become—or, she might’ve been like this from the very start—but god, what a joy to reciprocate. But this desire is not a genital one, rather more like a sheer indulgence of the feeling itself as if it’s her first time.
“Minji, no one’s chasing you. You don’t have to rush.” Hands on her shoulders you say, in an assuring tone, to the panting girl in front of you. Regardless she dives in yet again, this time her hands dragging her jeans down, totally ignoring what you said. She doesn’t feel sorry, but neither do you when you can in fact enjoy what’s going to unfold.
You find it kinda cute to see that talkative girl in the subway all silent and busy with her hands with heavy breaths. It’s as if you have unbound her from the straitjacket—or the alcohol did—and her actual self inside was in need of some rabid lovemaking. No denial that she’s getting what she wants.
It’s hammy but a pleasure to watch. Her hands move to your top and hastily take it off of you, a sigh when it blocks the kiss. You’re overwhelmed as you take your pants yourself but Minji pulls it down to your ankles. Stepping out of them you push her onto her bed and crawl up to be parallel with her, eyes to eyes. When your erect cock brushes on her tummy she squints her eyes with a flinch. Her nerves are so worked up, whether it be from the intoxication she’s been in for hours or the anticipation. Or both.
“Minji, are you alright?” Her face is so red, her breaths are shallow and her teeth keep on biting her own fist. She just nods, eyes still filled with unrest; in fact you can’t tell if it’s concern or anticipation, but either way it’s your job to relax her. 
And putting her hand off of her mouth and replacing it with your lips is what you come up with as a solution. As if you want to absorb the turmoil out of her. When your tongues meet and intertwine her hands climb up to the back of your head and pull you deeper into the trance. Time passes like that. Minji’s so lost in the sensation, and when you lightly put your hand on her breasts she moans into your mouth. The size is just unblemished for you to leisurely fondle, so you keep doing that until she detaches from the kiss, asks you to take her top off with a coo.
“You look so beautiful. Just relax, Minji.” She bites on your under lip when your hand softly squeezes her breast and plays with her nipple. The pain is an approval you’d gratefully take.
You slide down to her neck, collarbone, chest, stomach and finally to her crotch, peppering everywhere on your way with pecks and licks and making it glisten. And oh, her pussy lips are already glistening—dripping, soaking wet—with her own water, nectar so dense with desire. You glimpse at her and she nods desperately, underside of her lips bitten hard, as if when you latch your tongue on her sex it’ll bleed. 
And when you do she yelps, sharp yet gutty, with her back involuntarily arching upward. “Ah, please…!” Is what follows her scream when you flick your tongue on her sensitive nub. You cherish her response and repeat it, eyeing her facial expressions and enjoying every furrow of her brows, every grasp on your hair and every squish of her thighs on your ears. It doesn’t take a while to reach the point where she loses control of herself. Where she loses her mind and cums with a scream. Your skull gets crushed between Minji’s fleshy thighs and your tongue drowns in her juices gushing into your mouth. It’s too saccharine, too flashy, beyond what you expected from her. 
“You’re so good at that… I’ve never squirted like that before.” Minji looks spent. Chest heaving up and down quickly, eyes almost teary and her tongue barely pronouncing correctly. You climb up again and lock lips with her, letting her taste her own liquid.
“Nngh…” You coat your cock with her prevailing girlcum, scrub it on her entrance a few times and slowly, slowly enter her first with only the head. That summons the clingy girl into her again as her arms lock around your neck and she screams into your shoulder. It’s enrapturing to feel the head of your cock slowly discover deeper parts of her, to hear her material moans permeating into your bones.
“God, you feel amazing!” Is what she says when you are halfway inside her. You withdraw a little bit, and put in even more, to make your entire cock disappear inside her. Her arms almost choke you when she hugs you tighter and shouts ‘yes’s and ‘oh my god’s right next to your ear.
“Minji, I’m going to move. I’m going to fuck you.” You groan. It’s finally the time to unleash everything in you, all too stacked up from the agonizing foreplays. “Yes, fuck me. Make me cum please-oh my god it feels so good!” You’re not going slow at all. The smacking sound is music to your ears, and her moans melt your brain. So you go brainless. Hitting the right spot and making her cry every time. It's soft no more, and Minji finds it crazy. Her arms can't settle down but intermittently darts about on the bed.
“Minji, fuck…” You doubt that she can hear you in the room full of her orgasmic yelps and moans. “Fuck, I love it! So deep inside me, don't stop…!” Her legs flutter, eyes roll back and fingers dig into your arms helplessly when she cums on your cock hard. “God, I can't… I can't-” The girl shyly asking for a kiss is now gone, beautifully degraded to a girl enjoying, loving and getting overtaken by the pleasure teeming into her. 
Overstimulated, Minji wriggles as if the sensations are throttling her. A few minutes you were caring about her more than you, but now your priorities are reset; you’re reminded of your purpose here, it's not for her sake, it's for you. And regardless of her condition you just push in, harder and deeper than each thrust, to the finish line. Her torso is turned red and at some point she's looking into your eyes, those subtle muscles beckoning for you to go for it, to cum.
“Minji, I'm cumming…! Fuck!” You splatter your seed all over her tummy and tits. The icing on the cake, an eye candy you're never going to be tired looking at.
“It was… Incredible.” Minji has a satisfied smile on her face. “Good to know you enjoyed it.” You nestle on the bed next to her, rearranging the wet strands of her hair out of her face.
******
Minji is asleep. Like nothing happened a few minutes ago. Like you're not in the bed with her. That's not an unexpected thing for you. You dress up, wipe your cum off her body. She's so pretty when sleeping, you think to yourself.
But right after that you take her purse; there are a few bucks and a credit card. And in the dressing table you find some fancy jewelry boxes.
It's bad, immoral. It's what you do for a living. Can't say you feel proud but not much of a guilt in your mind either. Maybe a little though. But only for this time. You actually liked Minji. Not that much, but you felt something different. Maybe you two can run into each other someday. And maybe you're hoping that happens, even though you know it won't help you in any ways. You can't explain it but there's something in your mind about what happened tonight. 
But you carry on, find a pen and a post-it, write something down and stick it on her empty purse on the nightstand.
‘You don't even know my name, do you?’
******
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chosopie · 1 month
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FLUNK OR FUCK - SATORU GOJO
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Gojo was the popular kid in college who often attended frat parties and was known for his pretty face and athletic abilities. He had numerous girls up on his shit who would desperately beg him for a chance, but no. His eyes were set on you.
A lot of people didn’t understand why he was so fixated on someone like you. You were a STEM girl—the complete opposite of him. You two came from different crowds that didn’t get along.
Gojo was tempting. You couldn’t deny the fact that he was hot. He had a nice toned figure and angelic facial features. It was like he was sculpted by the gods and descended straight from Olympus. You had nothing against dating him, but you had standards. The kind of man you wanted was someone who was responsible and intellectual. You couldn’t stand the thought of being with a guy who had shits for brains.
“Y/N! What could I possibly do to make you date me?” He whined into your ear. He had been pestering you for 45 minutes now while you were busy summarizing your notes for tomorrow’s upcoming math test.
“Please, just one chance!”
“Ugh,” you groaned, finally turning away from your notebook. “One condition.”
“Anything!” He exclaimed.
“Pass tomorrow’s math test and I’ll let you hit,” you proposed.
“Too easy! It’s just basic math,” he scoffed, crossing his arms.
“Sure,” you rolled your eyes. “Good luck.”
-
It was the day of the test. Gojo was comfortably sat on his chair with his legs crossed, his mind thinking about how close he was to getting some pussy—yours, which made it even more exciting. The professor started distributing the papers to the students in the front row. After all the papers had been given to those students, they started passing the papers backwards. You were one of those students in the front and as expected, you were already leaning over, your back slouched and your forehead close to touching your table while you started solving the problems.
Gojo looked at his paper, carefully analyzing the first equation.
“This ain’t so bad. Y/N taught me this. You just gotta use that one formula,” he thought.
Done. Next problem.
This one wasn’t a challenge either since it was relatively similar to the first problem. Gojo triumphantly smirked and started writing his answers.
Next.
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“Guys, what the fuck is that…” he mumbled to himself, his hands clutching his hair. “I’m fucking cooked.”
-
“Do better.” The professor sighed as he handed Gojo his paper.
“Don’t play with me like that,” Gojo nervously laughed. He had to have passed, right? He answered most of the questions. It was just that one question he left blank.
11/30.
The red writing on the top right of the paper stared at him.
“Gojo!” You called, walking over to his seat. He was slouching, quickly putting his paper away the moment he heard your voice.
“What’s your score?” You asked.
There was no response.
“Gojo?” You worriedly asked, then you looked at his stiff face. “So, you failed?”
“Please. Pussy….” he softly pleaded.
“Seriously? That’s the last thing you should be worried about right now,” you sighed, rubbing his back. You suddenly heard sniffles.
“Fine! For fuck’s sake, Gojo! Just come by my apartment at 5 and we could fuck. I’ll teach you too so you better pass the next test.”
“Thank you,” his voice quivered. “You have no idea how much that means to me.”
: ̗̀➛ part 2
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wandasfifthwife · 1 month
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(3) locker room ✩‧₊˚ competing series
hockey coach!wanda x fem!ex figure skater reader
tw: SMUT MDNI, r has a v&breasts, top wanda, bottom r, service dom!wanda, r is a bit needy, wanda absolutely goes feral once given the green light, oral (r receiving), fingering (r receiving), wanda uses the shower head on r, sort of public sex (locker room shower), cum kink if you squint
a/n: not proofread. THE SMUT IS HERE LMAO. I was a bit too excited to write and publish this, I’ll come back and edit later. Anyways enjoy this filth.
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It was all a performance. Every shy touch pushing the narrative, cultivating confident hand placements. The hand on your shoulder would find itself on your waist, pulling you towards her.
The first time she kissed you she was nervous, her hands holding you close but still at a distance. Every one since then has been pushing you down a dangerous path. They all made you want more, you wanted to fall over the edge with her.
The desire was growing each day. When she kissed you goodnight. When she placed a hand on your inner thigh. When she ran her eyes over your body. It made your legs weak.
Earlier in the day, just as the sun was rising she had been at your apartment. It was an easy Saturday morning, resting in each other with the tv in the background. Light touches almost hovering over each other.
You felt like you were floating, goosebumps lining your body as her fingers drew chills.
She paid you no mind, whether intentional or not she was stirring your emotions. Her eyes were focused on the screen, an occasional whispered compliment on whatever the house designing show had to showcase. It was infuriating almost. Her lips would sometimes touch your neck, a gentle touch here and there. She had strung you up and left you there when she had to leave for an appointment.
You laid where you once were, unsure of what to do until her contact showed up on your phone. She sounded out of breath as she asked you to come to the arena. You clambered into your car, almost speeding down the roads.
You didn’t give much of a hint as to where she was, last thing mention on the phone was that she was in the gym. The problem was that it was empty save for one man on the stair climber. You passed by without a care, feet wondering into where the ground turned into tiles.
There were a multitude of lockers aligning the wall, which were all off except for one. One had a small sign, the red light giving away that it was occupied as opposed to the surrounding green LEDs.
You called out her name, walking towards the showers and not thinking to check behind you. There were enclosed spaces, each separated by a wall. You walked to one, feeling bored so you pull at the level until the water came pouring down. It was in way better condition than you originally assumed.
Wet footprints sounded behind you, slight nerves picking up in fear it might be another woman besides the one you came looking for. They were eased when she came into view, a towel in her hand.
“You got here quick. I was going to try and shower before,” she emphasizes her words by lifting her towel up. Your eyes follow the movement and how it extends her muscles.
You feel your heart pick up, the feeling she had started before coming back to life. You point behind you, nonsense coming from you, “I don’t mind waiting, I could take a shower as well. My water bill is expensive.”
“Okay,” she says and begins to set her stuff at the one right beside the one you were standing at. You shouldn’t be surprised, but you had wished she would make a move. That she would hint at wanting to join you, maybe showing interest in you sexually.
You breathe deep and undress where you are, closing the curtain just before doing so. You reach a hand out to set your clothes on an outside bench. The water was hot, the smoke rising and collecting on the surrounding black tiles. It was much nicer than the shower you had at home and it genuinely surprised you.
She realized before you, calling out and saying she had soap if you needed. Her tone was teasing, asking if you were here to take a dry shower. You called out for her to hand it to you. The curtain made its clinking sound, causing your heart to fall out of your chest. You flinch, freezing as you come face to face with her. Her completely clothed body contrasting yours.
Her eyes flicker between your face and bare skin. No words escape her, face neutral as she hands you the soap and leaves with a jerk to the curtain.
It made your heart jump out of your chest when a second later you hear her curse. She brushes past the curtains again, descending towards you. It was two steps before your back collides with the shower wall.
A protest is taken from you when her lips collide with yours. She spreads your hands out beside you, intertwining them and holding them. There’s a forceful pressure in how you’re held between her body and the wall behind you. A heat builds within you and around the two of you as you drown in each other.
Her lips find the sensitive spot on your neck, pulling a moan from you, “can’t resist, I can’t wait anymore.”
She slides your arms to wrap around her neck, “I need to hear you say you want this. I’ll drop everything if you’re not ready.”
You smile and nod as you vocalize your consent. She’s lifting your left leg with a hand dragging under your thigh and propping it on her waist.
“At any time you need to stop or you want to slow down, tell me please, okay?”
You mumble your confirmation, hands fiddling with her wet hair. She places gentle kisses down your body, starting under your jaw and trailing down towards your inner thigh.
Her attention is completely focused, eyes glazed over already. A whine is pulled from you the second her tongue is licking across your heart. She presses it harder onto your clit, morning when she feels you tug at her hair.
You have a hand in her hair, another pressing against your mouth. A hand on your hip holds you open, barely putting in any effort whenever your hips twitch or try and close around her head.
“You’re so pretty,” she mumbles into you.
She slides the first finger in, a shameful whine coming out from behind your hand. The water falls behind you two, the heat and pressure below pressure you to breathe deep.
When she feels you’re ready, she begins to fit another finger in. She doesn’t miss how you shiver when she angles her fingers.
“Like that, sweet thing?”
A string of yeses fill the room, your tone breathy and sweet. She’s driving them in harder, directing them right at the spot that has your legs quivering.
Her tongue presses against your clit, building pleasure between your legs. You whimper at the sudden bite to your inner thigh. It was then that she decided to slide a third finger.
“Wanda,” you breathe out, back arching to chase after what she had been building.
Her fingers twist, trusting against your upper wall just as she sucks on your thigh.
“Oh my—please.”
You’re tugging at her hair, gasps and incoherent mumbles tumbling out from your lips.
“You’re squeezing me so tight,” she sucks at your clit, grinning at how your body reacts, “gonna come?”
Too much time passes and she’s impatient. Wanda thrusts her fingers in harder, a complete contrast of how gentle her voice sounds.
“Love. Are you close?”
“Yes,” you whimper, “don’t stop.”
“Wouldn’t dream of doing so.“
With a final kiss to your clit you’re sent over the edge. You grip at the tile, nails digging into the grooves. Wanda removes her fingers instantly, almost frantic as she brings her mouth to your heat. She soaks up every shiver, tongue swiping until all she can taste is herself.
You mumble her name, “kiss me.”
She’s shooting up, meeting you halfway. A muffle moan sounding from her as soon as you do.
“Mm,” you smile into her lips, “you taste good.”
“It drives me crazy,” she admits and pulls you back into a passionate kiss. A hand comes and strokes at your back, calming you down. It was when you felt your mind begin to clear, the effects of the orgasm fading away when she had started biting around your neck.
“If you continue like that,” you begin, stopping to gasp when she actually bites on your shoulder.
“Or what,” she questions, her eyes look at to the shower head with a shit-eating smile. You follow where she looked and jerk her head back by her hair.
“Every minute I spend with you I swear you just want me to believe you’re a total goof.”
“Is pleasing my girlfriend so bad?
“That’s a shower head.”
“So? Give me a chance,” she gives the worst puppy dog eyes, and yet you still can’t turn her down.
Her hands pull it off of the holder, the smile never leaving her face. Your emotions were apparent on your face. She laughs and kisses you sweetly, “it won’t hurt if that’s what you’re expecting.”
“I don’t think that, I just think you’re crazy sometimes.”
She hums, ignoring you and opening your legs. The water pressure feels like you’re grinding down on a pillow.
“You make the cutest faces,” she murmurs quietly to herself. She tilts her wrist for it to angle just below your clit. The action has your nails tearing into her back.
“Feel good, hmm?”
“Yes, yes, yes,” you whine, head falling onto her shoulder, “keep it there, please, please.”
She shushes you, repeating how she’s going to take care of you. She changes the setting, eyes steady on you and each reaction she pulls from you.
“Gonna come already?”
“Keep it there,” you move your head to kiss her chin, “please Wanda.”
“I will,” she whispers, “I will.”
When she realizes you’re coming, she’s hanging the shower head back to not overstimulate you. You’re coming down your high, breathing deep into the space you’ve created between you and her.
“You’re so beautiful. I can’t help myself.”
You laugh breathlessly, head tilting back as she kissing around your chest and neck.
The sound filling her heart with joy. You stay cooped in each other’s hold, feeling comfortable not saying anything for a few minutes.
“Was it okay?”
“It was wonderful,” you kiss her nose, “thank you. I feel bad, you haven’t gotten off.”
“You don’t have to, watching you was enough.”
You push her back and stare at her, “did you really come from watching me?”
She pinches under your breasts, “no. I just got myself off when I was eating you out earlier. I wasn’t lying, seeing you come is enough.”
“Speaking of,” wanda grabs at your waist, “do you want to come again?”
You smack her hands away, a warning that if she doesn’t actually shower, you’ll shoo her off to another shower. She does so well for the first part, enjoying herself and being with you.
It was sweet how she checked in, hands gentle washing the soap into your hair. It was when she had to start washing your body that she became suspicious. What set you her was how she was taking too long to wash your breast.
She had stood behind you, hands running down the front of your body while she breathed deep into your ear about how she wanted to take you while someone was in a shower beside you. You realized then that your warning was fake. She too realized, another playful smile finding its way onto her face as she felt your body melt into hers again.
The water had become cold by the two of you came back to reality and finish “showering.”
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@sokovianbaby @natsbiggestfan1
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ateliersss · 9 months
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He Will Come
Pairing: Yautja x Fem!Reader Summary: You were caught three days after you and your son's arrival on earth by an organization called Project Stargazer. Now you both were treated like guinea pigs. No wonder, considering said son was a hybrid of human and Yautja. Cross-posted on AO3: here Warnings: English isn't my first language Word Count: 4,126
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You had been stupid, so stupid. You should have listened to Mi'ytiar, should have listened to him when he told you to stay on the ship during your stay on earth while your son went hunting. You had insisted on coming with him, as you desperately wanted to see your home planet again.
Not that you missed it. You loved Mi'ytiar, loved to be his mate, loved your life with him, your son and the new life you had on Yautja Prime.
You had just wanted to get out of the ship, get some fresh air, and see the full moon, which you couldn't see in your new home, when you suddenly were surrounded by soldiers. You didn’t even think about defending yourself, not in your condition. You had let it happen when they grabbed you and put you roughly in one of the black SUVs.
So many questions swirled around in your mind — how did they found you? What about the ship? What did they want with you? Would they hurt you? And what about Akail? Was he hurt?
You hadn’t dared to ask the armed men who were in the car with you. They all had looked at you with different emotions on their faces — disgust, curiosity, anger. One of them wore a grin that made your skin crawl.
When they arrived at their base, you were dragged through many corridors and were examined by — and you thanked God for that — female doctors. They took your blood, forced your into a strange suit, and put you into a completely white room.
Now you sat in a corner, huddled together. The door was in the middle of the wall on the other side of the room. A camera hung in the corner across from you from the ceiling and had an overview of the entire room. It reminded you of an interrogation room with windows to the left and right of the door, which looked like a mirror from the inside but allowed a glimpse into the room from the outside. A table and two chairs were standing in the middle.
You had pulled your legs to your chest as much as your swollen belly would allow, and your head leaned sideways against the wall.
It’s gonna be okay, you thought to yourself, everything’s gonna be fine.
You didn't know if you were trying to calm yourself down or your pup, who could sense your agitation and responded to you with kicking. You sat up straight in a cross-legged position, wrapped your arms protectively around your belly and caressed it soothingly.
Don’t worry, little one. Your daddy will get us out of here, he and your mei’hswei. We’ll be home soon. We can’t wait to meet you.
Not far from you, Sean Keyes greeted Casey Bracket. “There you are!” He said as soon as Casey stepped out of the elevator. “Welcome, I–“
Before he could continue, Casey walked straight past him to look at the two metal helmets and something that looked like a gun, everything displayed behind thick glass. None of it was human.
“Alien technology… Is that what you wanted me to see?” Casey's eyes wandered to the other showcases that displayed more weapons and equipment. “Can I take a better look at it?”
“Ahh.” Sean laughed, “But you haven’t even seen the main attraction.”
Casey tore her gaze from an interesting looking spear engraved with intriguing carvings and looked up at Sean. He had climbed the few steps that led to a glass wall overlooking a mix of operating room and laboratory and gestured with his head for her to follow him.
Quickly joining him, they both looked down and into the room. It was occupied by many people who, from their appearance, were scientists. There were guards, eight in total, guarding all four doors. Screens hung on the walls and desks carried computers and strange gadgets.
The only thing that got Casey’s complete attention was the table in the middle of the room and especially what was on it.
“Doctor Bracket.”
Casey looked away from the creature and at the man who had spoken to her.
“Would you like to meet the Predator?”
Yes, that’s exactly what she wanted.
Still processing what she had just seen, she followed Sean Keyes into the decontamination chamber. She was giving a suit that looked similar to the ones the scientists were wearing in the laboratory. The decontamination process didn't take long and she quickly slipped into the suit.
“Thanks for coming.” The dark-skinned man, Will Traeger, said to Casey as soon as the lab door opened and shook her hand. “I’m sure you have questions.”
“If I’m honest, only two.” Casey answered and followed the man down the stairs. “Why do you call it the Predator?”
They came to a halt in front of the table the creature was lying on.
“It’s a nickname. You know, the data suggests that it tracks its prey, exploits weakness. It seems to, well, enjoy it. It’s like a game.”
“That’s not a Predator. That’s a sports hunter.”
“Sorry?”
“A Predator kills its prey to survive. I mean, what you’re describing is more like a bass fisherman.” Casey simply answered, taking a step closer to the table.
“Well, we took a vote. Predator sounds cooler, right?” Will laughed and received approval from the surrounding scientists. “We found him, then his ship and more. He’s heavily sedated.”
She noticed that even unconscious, he was making a sound that closely resembled a cat's purring.
Casey had long stopped listening to him. She was completely absorbed by the creature, or Predator, taking in every inch of it. The physique indicated that it was a male. His height had to be around 7 feet. He had greenish skin that resembled reptilian-like scales. Its head was big and oval in shape. Instead of hair, what appeared to be dreadlocks grew out of it. His mandibles were the most eye-catching feature about him.
Could they be used for defense? And how did the food intake work?
“You are one beautiful motherfucker.” She finally said.
“I’m gonna guess your second question is why you’re here.”
Casey looked up to Will and signaled him with a nod to continue.
“Our test results yielded something a little… odd.”
Sean, standing next to Casey, handed her a device. She looked back and forth between the two men before accepting it. The screen showed a more complex DNA structure than that of a human, without a doubt that of the Predator.
“Is this a joke?” She questioned in disbelief.
“We ran the genome sequence ten times. This specimen has–“
“–human DNA.” Casey finished stunned.
“Yeah.” Will nodded, “Look, we know about spontaneous speciation. Mostly plants and insects but–“
“But some mammals. The Red Wolf, for example, a hybrid of the coyote and the grey wolf.” Sean interrupted him this time.
“It’s possibly some form of recombinant technology.” Will added.
“I get it. You want to know if someone fucked an alien.” Casey summed it up, finally knowing her purpose here.
“Not necessarily.”
Casey looked questioningly at Will. "Meaning?"
“Meaning, we have a rough idea. We would just like to know the detailed procedure.”
Casey's eyes widened and she looked at him in bewilderment. “You don't seriously expect a woman to procreate with that thing. There's no way that–“
“Oh, there is no need for that.” Sean assured her, “His equipment led us to his ship. We found it, but not only that.” He turned to the largest screen in the room and nodded to a man who started typing on his computer and turned the screen on. It showed some kind of interrogation room.
It wasn't long before Casey spotted a woman sitting cross-legged on the floor, slowly rocking back and forth.
“Are you trying to tell me that this is…”
“His mother, yes.” Will confirmed her thought. “His DNA matches with hers. Even through the father’s genetic heritage is more dominant than hers, you can still see differences between this one–“ He nodded to unconscious alien, “–and a homozygous Predator.”
“Wow indeed. And not only that, her human DNA has been altered to resemble that of the Predator.”
“Wow.” Casey mumbled and returned her gaze to the screen.
The woman now walked in circles through the room, stroking — and the biologist had to do a double take — her growing stomach.
Holy hell, she was pregnant!
Casey watched her mouth moving, so either she was singing or talking to the baby.
“We believe it’s a kind of adaptation to the living conditions of his home planet.” Sean started, “According to the blood tests, and we did several because we didn't want to believe the results, this woman is 73 years old, although she looks to be in her mid-20s.”
Casey’s mouth fell open, her heart pounding against her rib cage. “I want to meet her.”
He nodded and smiled at her. “That was the plan. No one has spoken to her yet, not even the nurse who brought her food or was taking her to the bathroom.”
“While science can answer many questions and give us great insight into our being, there are still things that remain unanswered.” Will added, "We don't know when she left Earth or how it was possible for her to reproduce with an alien. We don't know how her DNA changed, and because of that, we don't even know who she is.”
Casey nodded. “And you want me to get the answers to those questions from her?”
“Indeed.”
Casey was watching you through the one-way window. You were still pacing, one hand supporting your back and the other stroking your stomach in a circular motion. Even though you seemed nervous and scared, you also looked like a proud lioness ready to attack to protect her baby.
“Ready?” Sean asked.
Casey looked briefly at him and nodded.
“Great. We will wait here to watch and listen. In her condition I doubt she will attempt anything for the sake of her child, but if she does it will only take a second and security will rush the room.”
“Good to know.” She mumbled before heading to the door.
With a deep breath, she pushed down the door handle.
You caught that movement in the corner of your eye and turned to the intruder. “What have you done to him?!” You immediately demanded hysterically, growling at her like a wild animal. “Where did you take him? Where did you take my son?”
It was good that Casey was the first to speak to you. Probably no one out there had the slightest decency to treat you like a real person and would have strapped you to a table, too, careless of harm to you or your child.
“They took him to a lab and are holding him there. Nobody hurt him, I swear it.” Casey said, raising her hands to show you she meant no harm. “They just want to know more about him and his kind and why he is here, that’s all.”
You stared at her, softly caressing your belly as you pondered her words.
When there was no reply, Casey continued, “I just want to talk to you. We want to know how you… why you…”
“Why I got knocked up by an alien?” You suggested bluntly.
Casey nodded. “Yes. It’s practically unthinkable to come across an alien hybrid and its mother.”
“Where I went after his father took me from Earth, it’s more of a rarity than unthinkable.”
Casey took a step forward and hastily asked, “Do you mean you're not the only one? Are there other humans who procreate with them? Are they also studying hybrids and their traits?”
You laughed at her eagerness and walked over to the chair closest to you, sitting down on it. You waved your hand at Casey to do the same, as if you were hinting you were going to cooperate to answer her questions. The biologist glanced back over her shoulder at the reflective window where Sean and Will were watching the conversation. She sat down in the chair opposite of you and looked at you expectantly.
“Before I say another word, I want to see that my son is okay.” You demanded, trying to suppress the tremor in your voice, the very first sign of weakness.
Casey turned back to the windows and waited for someone to come through the door. Instead, the reflective surfaces of the windows turned into screens showing one and the same image — the captured Predator, still tied to the table and asleep.
There was a whimper coming from behind her. When she turned back, she saw tears building up in your eyes and one hand pressed to your mouth. It was surreal to Casey for a human having such an emotional reaction for an alien creature. On the other hand, this was his mother, unbelievable and absurd as it may seem.
You seemed to calm down, your eyes still fixed on the screen. You nodded to yourself before tearing your eyes away to look at Casey. The windows had returned to its normal state.
“We’re going to start with some easy questions, okay?”
You nodded again.
“Great. First I would like to know your name.”
“(Y/N) (L/N).” You answered.
“Would it be okay if I call you (Y/N)?”
“I would appreciate it.” You said, “It's a nice change from all the other names I've gotten so far.”
“What do you mean?” Casey inquired.
“Alien fucker. Alien whore. Desperate little bitch who thought a man’s dick isn’t enough for her. Nothing I didn't expect from men.” You shrugged, “It just proves once again that Yautja males treat their females with far more respect and honor than a human male could ever comprehend.”
“Yautja?” Casey asked, leaning forward, arms crossed on the tabletop.
“You call them Predator, but their kind is actually called Yautja.” You explained.
Casey nodded and started to play with her fingers, her next question burning on her tongue. “How did you get into this whole thing? How did you get in contact with them?”
You huffed. “It’s quite ironic, you know. On the contrary what you may have expected, he saved me.”
“Saved you from what?”
“Again, men. Three of them. They had cornered me, kept groping me, pulled on my clothes…” You had to pause for a second.
Almost 50 years ago, you had been afraid when Mi'ytiar had taken you from Earth to bring you to Yautja Prime. But looking back, that fear hadn't been as great as what you felt at the thought of what those men would have done to you if he hadn't intervened.
“He protected me from those monsters… my own kind.”
You let out a humorless laugh. “Yautja take their prey as a trophy after each successful hunt. Not only did he rip their heads off and their spines out, he also took me. I expected him to hurt me, to keep me as a slave, or... or to do what these men wanted to do to me. I found out later that I was really lucky that he, of all other Yautja, rescued me. It's incredibly rare that one of them takes an interest in a human being. Usually, they kill every last of them. Humans are too weak and too soft, but that’s exactly what he loves about me. That’s why he kept me alive.”
You let out sigh, considering how much you should reveal about the Yautja culture.
“On the contrary to me, a Yautja female is rough and large, even larger than a male. After all, they are the ones who carry their offspring and ensure the survival of their kind. The males have to fight for dominance and if the male wins, the female deems him worthy enough for mating and submits.”
Casey shifted in her seat. “Did you… Did he expect the same from you? Did he force you into submission to…?”
“Never.” You growled protectively, “He never forced himself onto me. Never. He was more patient and understanding than all the human males I ever met in my life. He treated me like I was the most precious thing he has ever seen. Never did he touch me without my permission.”
“Okay, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.” Casey soothed you.
She had to be more careful and had to see this whole situation through your eyes — you were separated from your son and held at a facility who was examining you both while you had to worry about your unborn baby.
“Do you want to tell me about your relationship with him? Your, uhm…”
“He is my mate. My Life Mate.”
“Life Mate?”
“Female Yautja can mate with multiple males and give birth to their children, but some also choose a permanent mate. You could compare it to one-night-stands and marriage, only you can't divorce. It's not called Life Mate for nothing. You are bonded to each other for the rest of your life and they live for hundreds of years.”
“Can I know the name of your Life Mate?”
You eyed Casey briefly, looked over her shoulder at the reflective windows then at the camera in the corner and then back at her. “His name is Mi'ytiar. He is the leader of his clan.”
Casey sat up straight. “They live in clans? Like wolves in packs or horses in herds?”
You nodded. “With similar hierarchy dynamics, yes. There are many clans on their home planet, each living peacefully on their own. Sometimes clans visit each other, hunt together, celebrate together. That's how I found out that I'm not the only human on this planet.” You said, “But apparently I’m the only one who mated a clan leader. Most of them are expected to have a strong successor to take after them and Mi'ytiar, of all Yautja, chose a weak little human to bear his pups.”
Jackpot, Casey thought.
She finally got to the part that intrigued her the most — how was it humanly possible that you got pregnant, how was it possible for you to carry the child of an alien, and how did it not kill you?
“Since Mi'ytiar has fully committed himself to me, it was up to me to bear his offspring. The Yautja of his clan never dared to say anything. I’m the clan leader's mate, after all. But I noticed it in the way they treated me and looked at me. They knew it wasn’t possible for me to carry his children.” You looked down at your baby bump and returned to caress it. It seemed to keep you calm.
“At that point, that fact made me really upset. I got to know their culture, learned everything there was to know about them. I even started learning their language. I fulfill any task assigned to a clan leader's mate. I make my mate happy and proud. But I couldn’t give him a child.”
You looked up and into Casey’s eyes.
“Mi'ytiar is very attentive and he soon noticed that something was upsetting me. Apparently he was the only one who hadn't thought about his offspring at all.” You paused for a second to smile, remembering his reaction when he found out that you wanted to carry his pups. “The second he knew he wanted to keep me around when he took me away from Earth, he injected me with his blood. No matter how many times I've been called fragile and puny, the human immune system can sometimes work wonders. His blood had slowed down my aging and allowed me to survive on his planet. So we visited a healer to finalize my life as his Life Mate.”
Your cheeks flushed as you thought of how Mi'ytiar hadn't hesitated another second to make sure you got pregnant. You had spent several days in your bed, or nest as he called it, and there had been hardly a moment when he wasn't inside you. The thought of his beautiful mate, his love, carrying his pup in her belly had made him feral.
It hadn't been long before his seed took. The other Yautja had a satisfied reaction when they saw that their leader was about to become a father. Also, they finally treated you like a part of the clan. You had fully proved yourself, proved you could provide for the clan. You were finally one of them.
Akail's birth was hard. It felt like he was tearing you apart from the inside out. But thanks to the injections of his blood and the additional help of the tribal healer, your body strengthened enough that you didn't die, even though it felt like it. You were crying and smiling, with your mate at your side, holding your little bundle of joy in your arms.
He looked just like his father, no indication that his mother was human. However, his animalistic features were a little softer, difficult to recognize unless you were the mother. While you are being tended to, Mi'ytiar took his son in his arms to proudly introduce him to his clan.
Fondly, you thought back to one moment, a core memory — Mi'ytiar, lying on his side with you snuggled against him, both naked and partly covered in fur, and little Akail, just ten hours old, resting on your chest. At that point you were so incredibly happy.
It sounded weird and absurd that this was your life and no human would understand, but you would never trade it for anything.
“What’s the catch?” Casey asked after a while of watching you quietly stroking your belly.
“Huh?” You looked up.
“I don't think you're telling us all this without an ulterior motive. So what’s the catch?”
“I want to quench your thirst for scientific knowledge and in return, I hope you will release me and my son. There is no need to keep us here.”
Casey started to rock back and forth in her chair. “I don’t think that will be possible. There are still things that we–“
“Listen, I have cooperated in the hope we will be released when all your questions are answered. You won’t like what will happen if we are not soon to be freed.”
Casey glanced over her shoulder for what felt like the hundredth time, unsure of what to do or what to say.
“I promised him to contact him every day, you know. My mate.” You said, pride permeating your body. “And do you know what it will tell him? The silence?” Your question was obviously rhetorical. “It will tell him that something happened to me and therefore also to his son, because Akail would rather die fighting for his mother and Mi'ytiar knows that.”
Casey gulped. The threat was clear as the day.
“He will come and not alone. Do you really think you stand a chance against them?” You laughed, now more confident. “The human nature is arrogant, thinking they are superior to everyone. Eventually that will be the reason for your extinction. Your haughty stupidity will be the death of you.”
“(Y/N)–” Casey tried, but she was interrupted.
“No, you will listen to me just like you've been doing for half an hour now. I have lived among them for decades. I learned from them, I’m one of them. Stand between a Yautja and their Life Mate and it will end deadly for you. Stand between a Yautja and their Life Mate who’s pregnant and I promise you, you will beg for them to kill you.”
“(Y/N), there is nothing in my power to help you. I was simply asked here as an expert to examine this Yautja… your son. I can’t–”
“You will. And I'm not just talking to you in this case.” Your eyes wandered from her face to the windows and nodded to the people you assumed to be standing behind the glass, watching you. “I’m talking to them, the ones who have the power. Set me and my son free and I promise you nothing will happen to any of you.”
Suddenly, a blaring alarm sounded, startling both Casey and you.
Instinctively, you wrapped an arm around your stomach in a protective manner.
“Code Red. Subject Predator is on the loose.”
A shuddering sigh of relief left your lips as you slowly began to smile. You knew they couldn’t keep Akail immobilized for long.
One of the things he had in common with his father was that he was just as protective over you as he was. He would come to look for you.
Casey had already jumped out of her chair and was talking frantically to the people on the other side of the one-sided window.
You began to talk to your pup again, “Your mei'hswei is coming, sweetling. Soon the three of us will be back with daddy.”
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continue with the second part He Is Here.
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lemmetreatya · 1 year
Note
OK but the urge to be milked by Farmer!Reiner is STRONG. I would moo for that man.🐄
farmer!reiner x fem!reader
this req was all the way from jan and i only got the motivation for it now <3 so enjoy
contains: established relationship, dom!reiner, semi public sex, m!pen, squirting, self-masturbation, spitting, cumshot
farmer!reiner; who everyone loves to buy their premium beef from, but nobody wants to purchase filtered whole milk through.
not because it was bad quality or anything! — farmer!reiner’s crates of white dairy were always thick and creamy and an absolute joy to drink from! it’s just…certain tell-tale rumours had gone round that within the stables, where farmer!reiner milked his cows, were the same ones where he occasionally milked his wife.
whether they were rumours or not? well.
“ooooh, baby. t-they gonna talk again!”
your cries are sobbish as you hold onto a wooden beam of the milking stable, one leg raised ontop of farmer!reiner’s shoulder whilst your other foot is flat on the ground to sturdy yourself.
farmer!reiner only grunts as he fucks into you sideways. the hold his hands have on your waist grips into your plump skin as his dick rams against internal ridges you didn’t think could be reached.
“let em talk. like i give a fuck.”
you can hear the annoyance in your husband’s voice but it didnt matter if you did or not, because it already translates into how harsh he fucks into you.
you let out a whine but farmer!reiner doesn’t like it; he knows its because you’re still thinking about the many rumours that had been spread about this very habit you both had, rather than it being from him pleasing you.
farmer!reiner makes a hughck, twp! sound as he spits out the farmer’s gum he had within his mouth onto the mesh floor. he then readjusts his position which results in him bending you forward into the wooden beam. finally, he’s getting the whines he wants out from you and that greatly pleases him.
“sod what they think.” he grumbles but the contrasting smirk on his face is sick.
he brings one arm round to hold onto your stomach as he presses down onto it, which he knows causes a rise out of you.
“i can fuck my wife.” plat, plat. “on my land.” plat, plat, plat. “where’ver the fuck i want.
farmer!reiners hitting all the right spots so you can only nod in numb and dumb agreeal. the feeling of your husband always left you full and you couldn’t help but let out a low and long throaty moan. it’s inevitable! that budding pressure at the base of your stomach is staring to feel so tight and you can’t deny that all of the feelings surging within you feel so bright and so fuzzy and so fuck, you were gonna—
“oouuhhh…”
unexpectedly an ooze of liquid squirts from between you and farmer!reiner as you cum onto his dick. your pelvis, slightly lifting from his wet length, posses you to rub your clit and spray your love over him — every ounce of shame is no longer your concern as you bare an obscene sight within the stables.
farmer!reiner can only groan as he uses one hand to hold you steady and the other onto the base of his length as he messily taps it against your squirting lips.
“yeah, that’s it darlin’. all over my cock, juuuuust how daddy likes it.”
your body jolts as you go through the lasting dregs of your orgasm. once the after effects wash over, you’re suddenly feeling slump and palpable.
farmer!reiner holds you upright as he can feel you coming down from your high. his eyes are beady as he looks over you to gauge your condition. but regardless, he slightly bends down to place a warm kiss to your jersey sleeve before affirming your exploit.
“god, i love ya. did so well. always do so well fa me…”
you let out a tired reply, mumbled and lazy as all you want to do is now snuggle with your husband in bed. however, farmer!reiner continues to stroke his still red and tall standing dick; the length of it shiny wet and slick from your juices.
he shivers once he feels a small gust of wind wisp over his sensitive slit but it doesn’t dwindle his need. if anything, it amplifies it.
“but…” farmer!reiner places another kiss along your arm. “imma need you ready to go again.”
“again?”
the whine is evident in your voice but farmer!reiner doesn’t pay it any mind. instead, hes reentering your spent cunt and you can only let out a desperate mewl.
“yes, again. you already know big daddys gotta cum inside that pretty cunt of yers. nothing new.”
despite your protests, your body takes no problem in remoulding itself around your husband’s cock. if anything, he slips in so easily that you cant help but comply. arching your back, you beckon upwards with a lax mouth and outstretched tongue and farmer!reiner already knows you’re on board.
spitting onto your moist muscle, farmer!reiner doesnt leave his saliva there long before hes enclosing his lips around your tongue for him to suck on — you keen as your husband nurses your mouth and moans into a dirty kiss and almost forget that hes now balls deep inside of you again.
farmer!reiner kneads his fingers into your arm that hes holding you upright by and the action is tender, but his thrusts come out erratic as he works to achieving his nut.
“mmm, you feel so warm.” farmer!reiner speaks into your skin as he lets go of your mouth to kiss along and into the crook of your neck.
you moan at the affection your husband is pouring into you because you know hes close. reaching back your hand, you hug around farmer!reiner‘s neck so that you could bury him deeper into you, encourage him to indulge and devour you.
“you always fuck me s-so good.” a wince forms onto your face as you feel your hand dig a bit too deep into the pillar stem but it doesn’t matter.
“mhm. gotta…gotta fuck you. make feel good.”
your juices from before now feel cold against your leg as the squirt starts to dry up but still, the wet squelches of your husband fucking into your cunt dribble down your thigh and you can’t help but feel so erotic.
“ahhh, im gonna come, im gonna come, im gonna co'm. im gonna…nrrgh.”
farmer!reiner only lasts a few more thrusts before hes pouring his milk into you, a muffled moan leaving his mouth as his face is still buried within the crook of your neck.
you slightly curse underneath your breath because you never really think you could be any fuller once impeached with your husband's cock, but yet here you were, letting out a half choke as you react to being completely stuffed.
"sh'i...baby"
farmer!reiner's grip is tight on your arm as he tries his best to not lead his whole body into a physical combustion. he's aware that he's carrying most your weight whilst still being buried to the hilt inside of you and therefore can't just flop down like he usually would in bed.
with haggard breathing, you weakly bat the man's chest and instantly he gets the message. farmer!reiner slowly pulls out of you with a plop but not before he's kissing the base of your neck.
"rei..." you weakly sigh, and your husbands letting out a weak chuckle.
"i know, darlin'. we gon go getchu cleaned up and then go check on the stack import, okay?"
"ohh, but i'm too worn out for dealing with hay and numbers!" you whine as you turn to lean your back against the pillar and farmer!reiner's only chuckling as he zips up his pine coloured breeches.
"i promised hoover we'd pass by today. id go on my ones but you now how his littlens get when they see me but dont see you."
yes, you do know how the hoover's kids get when they don't get to see you, but that's not really your worry right now.
with a complain-y moan you look up at your husband with wide pleading eyes because you really dont want to be doing house visits right now. but farmer!reiner, knowing how you are, can only let out an airy laugh before he leans down to deliver you a sweet kiss.
"do this one thing for me and i promise the rest of the day's yers." he mumbles against your lips.
you almost decline, but the sudden feeling of farmer!reiner's slightly cold fingers caressing against your swollen pussy lips as he gathers the leaking cum from around your folds and scoops it back into you, makes you reconsider.
with a bite of your bottom lip, you caress your cheek against his.
"mm. fine."
(not even several hours later, an anonymous account posts several pictures to your online community which clearly depict you and farmer!reiner's earlier escapades. when your husband sees them, he laughs with boisterous vim.
"well, at least they got our good angles!" he'd say, his eyes unable to look away from the content)
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misslovasstuff · 6 months
Text
Prompt: “Wanna go on an adventure?”
You say whilst wearing a sexy dress that’d leave any man drooling.
paired with: Sanji, Zoro and Ace.
warning: contains nsfw, minors are asked not to interact.
author’s note: the opening line for Ace is the smoothest thing I’ve ever written till now. If you guys want me to continue any of this, let me know.
Sanji:
“Goodness, - he eyes you up and down. - oh my oh my oh my…!”
The cook’s mouth drops as he covers it with his hand in complete disbelief.
“You’re such a merciless woman! - Sanji approaches slowly, caressing your arm with the back of his hand just to feel you and understand that what’s happening right now is certainly not a dream. - Don’t you know what you do to me when you wear clothes like these~
He grabs your bra strap on your shoulder and pulls it, hitting your skin, all whilst never shifting his gaze away from your eyes which were too shy to look back. A small moan escapes your mouth as you look at your man in a new light, since he’s never done this before.
“Sanji… - you call him breathily, as there is a passion in his eyes you recognised very well. - you’re being so…ahh…”
His hand caresses your back and stops low. You can’t tell what he’s doing until your dress begins to losen up.
He reveals the bow tie he had just removed, putting it in between your faces as he whispers: “you’ve wrapped yourself like a present for me, my lady. “
His left hand pulls you by the waist while the other brushes off some strands of hair out of your face, thus making your eyes meet: you realise how beautifully intense his gaze on you, as if he was looking at a dream come true.
His charms were too much to handle, making you gulp hard as you glance at his lips, so much so that Sanji might have heard it. His instincts are insane, he knows what you’re feeling and why every single time.
“I did put this on for you.” - Sanji averts his eyes for a moment, staring at your body with a smirk after your reply. The dress was revealing but still managed to leave space for imagination to fill. And, anybody who knows men, especially the ones like Sanji, know that this is all they want to get that fire going.
He grabs your chin gently and kisses your cheek. You surely know because of Sanji about those kisses where the impact of his lips is like a signature on your skin and you just feel it as if he was kissing your soul, you absorb it with every fiber of your being.
“Right, you wanted to go on an adventure? - he smirks before kissing your face again and again in such an agonising small pace, letting you wanting more, so much more.. - You might take me on one, under one condition.”
You raise an eyebrow and grin:
“Oh really, you’re putting conditions now, huh?” - you say, playing with his hair as your arms rest on his shoulders. - What is it that my prince wants?”
“Well, adventures are dangerous so, - Sanji begins to kiss you on the lips soflty, as he speaks in between, - might have to keep you very close to me. - his lips move down your neck, fingers brushing off skin before he kisses and sucks there. Slight moans are already being heard from you. - not to mention all the excitement…
You’re completely pulled in by him. Not only physically, but your entire being deviates towards his body, like a moth to a burning flame.
“I’ll take… responsibility for it all…” - your breath begins to shorten as you drown your face in the nape of his neck, taking in his fragrance like it was a life-saving drug.
“You’re gonna take care of me, huh? Alright then, the most important thing is, - suddenly he goes down in one knee, grabbing your leg and placing your foot to rest on his thigh while he caresses the inner part of yours. - you gotta let me undress you bit by bit, on my own, throughly.”
You smirk, raising your dress just a bit higher to reveal more to his bare eye. That’s see how long it’s gonna take until this dress finds itself on the floor.
“Deal. All yours.”
Zoro:
“Oh, look at that. Someone’s been feeding her imagination lately.” - Zoro is sat on a chair, looking like he had just finished a glass of booze.
“Only mine?” - you close the door behind you, staying firm in front of him.
Zoro’s eyes adventure in your body before he spins his index finger as to signal you to turn around 360 degrees for him.
So you do.
If only there was a way do describe the way his eyes stared you down, as if he was consuming you only with his gaze. After taking a last sip out of his glass, he puts it away, licking his lips.
“Come here.” - he demands by patting his lap for you to sit.
You compose yourself on his thigh, the rest of your legs resting on his other whilst your long and tender arms wrap themselves around his neck.
Zoro scans your face with a smirk that hides so many nasty thoughts which only occurred when he was with you like this.
“Tell me about that adventure you were talking about.” - he claims with a low and deep voice, brushing your chin with his thumb.
Perhaps it was the booze or perhaps it was you who had gotten the swordsman a bit tipsy.
Zoro pushes your hair away from your shoulders, planting gentle but rooted kisses there.
“Tell you or show you? - you reply back, running your fingers through his hair and then brushing off the back of his neck.
“I’m a visual learner.”
With the cue, you caress his lower lip, leaning in and then facing away, teasing him.
A smirk from you doesn’t go unnoticed by your man, which he mirrors and shakes his head to.
“You know, it doesn’t make sense for you to play hard to get after coming to me dressed like this.” - he claims, biting his lip as his eyes glance at your body.
Zoro raises an eyebrow, at your next remark.
“Sorry, i keep getting distracted.”
You like the expression on his face. There’s frustration but love, eagerness but also resistance. Normally you wouldn’t continue teasing him like this but you know he likes it.
“Don’t worry, I’ll keep you focused for some time.”
It’s not long till he grabs your cheeks with one hand while the other caresses your thigh and pushes you closer so your lips meet passionately. His tongue dominates yours and he kisses like he was sucking the soul out of your body. The taste of alcohol on his mouth, his heavy breathing and those subtle but harsh touches were making you go insane.
His hand travels down to your upper part of the dress, lowering it with one pull thus revealing your bare chest. He gazes upon it before grabbing it with a hand, squeezing those boobs together before devouring them in his mouth.
Seeing you dressed like this, although not admitting it, must have turned him on like crazy. Your moans only add to his excitement as you push your head back, breathily calling his name.
“Zoro…- you clench your hand to his shirt, keeping yourself balanced.
“Ima bout to take you to the best adventure you’ve had in your life.”
This said, his hands take a strong grip on your waist, grabbing it good before picking you up and making you sit on the table, parting your legs and looking intensely at your eyes.
Zoro pulls you in by grabbing your legs, touching his forehead with yours as he whispers:
“Damnit, you’re so sexy right now I’m barely holding myself together.”
Ace:
“Dressed like that, the only adventure you’ll take me is inside you.”
You get all flustered as he scans you from head to toe, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed.
“Not to mention, now I feel underdressed.” - he claims chuckling, as he pushes his body forward to approach you. Ace looks down on you, seeing your body from a perspective he didn’t imagine before. The way your dressed fit with your curves and just the fact that you looked so hot in it made his body go all ‘code red’ whilst standing in close proximity, but not putting any hands on you yet.
��Well, it won’t matter anyways, - you reply, making the first move by caressing his chest. - you’ll get it off me faster than I put it on.”
“I see you came with clear expectations. - he replies, touching the hand you were caressing his chest with and lending a kiss to the palm. - what can I do for you, beautiful? You want an adventure?”
Your expression softens, as small romantic gestures that he did always left you in awe. But you’re no fool because it is known very welll by both of you what happens soon after and how that softness turns into grabbing the bed sheets.
“Kiss me, please.” - your voice sounds desperate which makes Ace grin.
“So needy today ~
His lips are inviting yours in a way that’s never happened before. He presses them delicately at first only to go absolutely feral after. Feels so perfect that even his head movements are in sync with yours, like dancing a fierce tango. He’s too eager, too hungry and too demanding. You’d swear you felt his tongue going down your throat as his hands are placed so well at your lower back, sliding down slowly.
“Ace… - you moan after finally catching your breath. Meanwhile, this man can’t stand without doing something that drives you crazy and you loved him for that.
He manages to get his hands under your dress, squeezing your ass like it was the only thing he wanted to hold on in this life. Ace comes back with more passionate kisses and touches second after second, making you unable to think, thus you just surrender to him completely.
“Dressed all pretty for me, - he says, pushing you a bit backwards, pinning you against the nearest wall. - you deserve a good reward, don’t ya?”
As your back hits the wall, Ace wastes no time in grabbing your legs and pushing them up to his waist. The dress no matter how sexy, still prevented him from feasting his eyes at you. A smirk appears on your eyes whilst biting your lip as you hang onto him shoulders.
He starts unzipping the front of your dress, turned on even more by looking at your expression filled of burning lust, showing unconsciously how much you wanted him.
“Let’s do some adventuring, shall we?”
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vickyzangels · 1 year
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% “top floor motel suite, twistin’ my cigars..”
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# synopsis ; post-concert adrenaline? you two sneak off after a performance (girl idk) also another anon requested tom and reader fuck before a concert while i was writing this so i hope close enough
# pairing ; tom kaulitz x fem!reader
# word count ; 835
# tags ; nsfw (mdni), fingering, oral (f receiving), no specified relationship, this is probably ass but i’ve seen worse
a/n ; wow a smut so soon how bold🧍🏻‍♀️
also “meine frau” - my woman/wife (you guys aren’t actually married it’s just a nickname don’t get your hopes up delulu)
teeth grinding together as you both pushed your way into a backroom. tokio hotel’s performance ended and as soon as they left the stage to make room for the next, tom dropped off his guitar to grab you and pull you away (obviously not without bill looking at you two weirdly, he knows what you two have been doing 👁️👁️). the process of running into the room, slamming the door, and ending up against it while making out with each other was blurry, but here you two were moaning into each other's mouths just like after every concert.
he held one of his arms against the door next to your head and had the other one holding your side under your shirt, using his thumb to rub slow, small, and gentle circles into your skin innocently like he wasn’t currently lifting his knee to rub you through your jeans. the friction was so perfect with how it rubbed against your clit through your panties and kept making you buck onto his leg. the feeling was so engulfing, with your eyes screwed shut and panting into the air with tom moving down to your neck leaving kisses, by god if an angel came down to take you to heaven you’d say no. not like you’d make it in, anyway with what you two were doing
“meine frau, you’re so impatient.”
“i- what?”
he pulled back, keeping his arm next to your head and on your side, and looked at you with those eyes that under any other circumstance would make you want to vomit and tear your hair out for good reason but right now he was smirking. that smug asshole.
he laughed, “i said you’re so impatient. hey, you’re getting yourself off on my leg, don’t lie and say you’re not!”
your face was starting to contort, it looked sour. is he serious? while you were literally riding his leg, he calls you impatient? he was starting to see your change of mood like he was getting worried he ruined it.
“listen, i was just joking, i’ll make it up to you, yeah?”
“and how do you plan to do that?”
“..i’ll eat you out.”
and before you knew it, you ended up sitting on the table against the vanity mirror shoving everything off of it to make room for you. something sweet about you two was that despite being similar in personality, a lot of your physical features mirrored each other. like how he always wore baggy jeans and you wore tighter ones, which would be cute in other conditions but right now while tom was trying to pull your jeans off to kiss your waist, it was more of an inconvenience.
thankfully, they came off and tom made quick to kneel and put his head between your thighs, sucking the insides to leave hickeys and inching closer to your cunt. somehow you hadn’t noticed till now that you were painfully throbbing, your thighs covered in slick and wanting to close your legs, only stopping yourself from doing so because you remembered tom was between you. not that he’d complain about being suffocated with your legs.
tom had been kissing his way closer to your pussy and it was driving you insane how close he was to pleasing you but he just.. hadn’t. you opened your mouth, starting to weakly beg him to touch you, pleasure you, when he finally flattened his tongue against you and licked a long stripe of your pussy.
“..please, tom, touch me- holy fucckk!”
he started to suck on you, reaching up his fingers in a v-shape and running them up and down your folds to later hold them at the entrance, prodding at it just barely enough to enter you. he’s a bit preoccupied but if he had a mouth to talk, he’d say something about how desperate you were for him, but it looks like he pities you and finally pushed a finger into you to move with slow strokes.
he kept his consistently slow speed by lapping at your slick, pushing in a second finger and turning it upwards to curl them inside you. the strokes and curls of his finger were starting to speed up and match the new motion of his tongue flicking your clit.
“god! shit-“ you moaned.
a knot in your stomach was starting to form and every single passing second of hearing tom lap loudly at your juices and the additional gushing from his fingers and mouth kept pulling the knot tighter and tighter. he kept groaning into your cunt, every word he repeated vibrating through you. you were dangerously close, bucking against his face like a bronco to have his nose continuously rub your clit.
“fuck, tomm! i’m- shit- i’m gonna cum!” weaving your hand into his dreads and riding his face to your release, squirting your slick through your orgasm. he kept sucking and lapping at you, resisting your weak attempts to push his head off you before finally stopping to kiss around you cunt. through your heavy breaths, “..your turn?”
“yeah.” he uses the table next to your legs to push himself up, quickly going to fumble with the belt over his pants, nearly getting the entire strap off before-
*KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK*
tom was the one to answer, “wer ist da?” who’s there?
“oi, du musst raus, wir gehen und nein, du kannst keine 5 minuten mehr haben, mach es im hotel.” hey, you need to get out, we’re leaving and no you can’t have 5 more minutes, do it at the hotel.
“verdammt noch mal.” damn it.
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a/n ; working on this for 3 days straight with 2 allnighters while ignoring how awkward it is to write it just to hate how it comes out then give up towards the end is crazy… 😟
© ALL RIGHTS BELONG TO VICKYZANGELS. do not steal, repost, plagiarize, or use my work for anything.
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theemporium · 6 months
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https://www.tumblr.com/theemporium/732996365739819008/httpspbstwimgcommediaf-cfpsex0aa8a5hformat
PLEASEEE can we have the smallest of blurbs/thots on this, them cuddling into the reader because they’re wee pups after all
-🥀
I KNEW I HAD TO AS WELL
.
You were aware that the forecast said it would rain, but you didn’t realise it would be a full fucking thunderstorm.
You had been huddled in the Red Bull garage when the weather took a dramatic turn for the worse. First, there were just a few radios here and there about some rain hitting the track. Seconds later, a massive dark cloud was covering the track, the sun was gone and the conditions were far too dangerous to finish the end of qualifying. 
You were honestly just happy both your boys were safe as they made their way into the pits, even prouder when you realised this meant they would be starting on the front row together. But then the thunder started and a part of you froze. 
Thunderstorms were never a problem for you. If anything, you enjoyed them. The rain pattering against the window, the distant sound of thunder claps in the air with strikes of lightning as you played some calming music. Being cuddled up in bed, maybe even a book in hand with a warm drink by your side.
But your boys never thought the same. 
You had began moving before you could even process it, but the team wouldn’t let you leave the safety of the garages just yet, which left you watching the interview on one of the screens. You could see it on their faces, even if they tried to hide it. You could see them trying to laugh it off and continue with the questions. You could see the way their bodies flinched, the way they covered their ears, the way they gravitated towards each other for safety. It broke your heart to see because you knew exactly how they were during thunderstorms.
The second they were given the go ahead, the boys were heading straight back to their drivers’ rooms to leave for the hotel as soon as they could. But it was short-lived when both boys barreled into Max’s driver room, Charles rushing towards you before you could even blink. 
A low whine left him as he wound his arms around your waist, tugging you close and burying his face into the crook of your neck as another distant thunderclap echoed outside. 
“I know,” you murmured, holding onto him tightly as your eyes caught Max’s—who you knew was trying to put on a brave face. “Let’s head back to the hotel, okay? Everything is gonna be fine.” 
Both boys were twitchy the whole ride over. All three of you were sitting in the back of the car, with you pressed between both boys as they tried to distract themselves. You could feel the anxiety rolling off them, you could feel the way their bodies tensed and the way their hands tightened on your thighs. You knew they just wanted to be alone and far away from the thunder. 
The second the hotel room door locking sounded through the suite, you heard the distinct sound of clothes ripping before two massive, fluffy beasts were approaching you. Another clap of thunder rendered through the air and both boys let out pitiful whines, cowering slightly as they looked up at you with big eyes.
“My poor boys,” you cooed softly as you reached out to run your hands over the heads, scratching behind their ears until both wolves were nosing at your legs. “C’mon, we’ll do what we do when we’re home.”
And it was a little more squished than the bed you shared at home, but it did the job just fine. You had both wolves squashing you between them, their heads resting on your stomach with the duvet over them. It was a trick you read online with dogs and fireworks, but it seemed to work perfectly with your werewolf boyfriends.
“You both need to eat something soon,” you told them when you felt one of them—probably Charles, if you knew your boys well—pushing the fabric of your shirt up until he could rest his head on your bare stomach. “And I would rather not scare hotel staff with two massive dogs that are technically undisclosed.”
Max let out a huff against your thigh.
“Don’t be a puppy,” you snorted as your fingers threaded through his fur. “Just one meal and then you can transform back. I would like at least thirty minutes with my boys to tell you how proud I am of both of you for getting the front row.”
Charles let out a loving purr as he nuzzled himself further into you.
“Yeah, I love you too.”
.
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the-s1lly-corner · 6 months
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AAAAA
TDAC X PUPPET!READER
Hear me out
Reader is like puppet from fnaf, their character being very similar to puppet, them having the same voice and powers? Yknow Puppet flies fast as HELL and etc, Reader most of the time stays in the music box, and just gets out when really wanted or needed, for example: when theres an IHA or when someone needs them for something.
TADC x puppet!reader !
ashamed to admit this but i have not touched fnaf outside of security breach, recently at least. the last time i was fully invested in the fnaf lore was when fnaf 4 had just dropped, so im quite literally relying off of your description like its a life line because i know how insane fnaf lore has gotten think imma answer this request then take another short break since my lower back is starting to get sore from sitting all day; gotta go stretch my legs too
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CAINE:
you do have your own room, of course, but you tend to usually stay in your music box; of which you came with when you first entered the digital world... which was a little odd, but hey its not the strangest thing that anyone here has seen! i like to think that sometimes caine comes to your box at night and tries to will you out so he can get to know you more. leave it to the ai to fall for the mysterious circus member who rarely leaves their box... i think sometimes he would hum and sing along to the music your box makes
POMNI:
the first time you rush out of your music box it takes her off guard, almost making her fall off her feet when you dash right by her to do... whatever was required of you at that moment in time. if she were being honest, she didnt think you were a real person, she had always assumed that you were an npc; it wasnt unheard of that caine would have npcs stationed about for in house adventures, or to man the carnival..! though i dont think she would interact much with you, considering you rarely interact with the others; what use would it be to pester you?
JAX:
honestly before realizing you literally live and sleep and mostly exist in the music box, he probably puts stuff on top of your box... accidentally trapping you inside it. well, actually trapping wouldnt be accurate because you ended up brute forcing your way out, literally sending everything that was on top of the box flying; scaring just about everyone in the room. imagine trying to find out whos faster; you or jax.. i mean, have you seen how fast jax bolted when they found out koufmo abstracted?
RAGATHA:
always tries to ask you if you want to join in on the in house adventure, she doesnt want you to feel left out or unwelcome; even though most times you willingly back out of the activity. though, she feels relieved and even smiles when you spring out of your box to join in on the action... at least she knows you havent abstracted... brain stimulation is important, you know!
KINGER:
he finds some comfort in the music, slowly but surely as the days pass he moves his pillow fort closer and closer to your box before eventually hes right next to you. sometimes even naps, leaning against it. though he does immediately scamper off when you suddenly lunge out to race towards whoever is calling for you. at least he can count on you to have his back in moments of danger or fear!
ZOOBLE:
usually stays in their own lane, but for one reason or another they need help during an IHA, and their yelps and incoherent speech was enough to catch your attention. be it gloink or otherwise, you obliterate the problem; effectively haunting zooble for the rest of their life by your actions... but hey, it feels... nice, having someone you can rely on
GANGLE:
character who is soft spoken and shy meets character that rarely leaves their box when its not needed or necessary; how could a relationship, romantic or otherwise, be fostered in conditions such as this? oddly enough, the silence between you two brings you together, the music keeping the silence from becoming overwhelming. i like to think that sometimes gangle leaves you little notes, choosing to write rather than verbally speak... best not to ruin that special quiet the two of you have learned to share
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foreverdolly · 1 month
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ೃ࿔FOREVERDOLLY'S DRABBLES
this is my full collection of drabbles! requests are currently closed, but will be reopened shortly. make sure, if you haven't, to check out my main masterlist for my full length series and oneshots!
→ 【austin butler drabbles】
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✤ VICTORIA'S SECRET (BOYFRIEND!AUSTIN X READER)
going to victoria's secret with your boyfriend. . . what could go wrong?
total word count: 701
✤ HERSHEY KISSES (HUSBAND!AUSTIN X WIFE!READER)
you take it upon yourself to tease austin at a family dinner. the two of you decide to take it a bit farther than you had initially intended.
total word count: 784
✤ NEW HAIRCUT (LONG HAIRED! AUSTIN X SHORT HAIR! READER)
you're nervous for austin to see your new haircut, especially since he's never seen it so short.
total word count: 991
✤ TOXIC (TOXIC BOYFRIEND! AUSTIN X READER)
you and austin decide to go out to one of your local dives one night to enjoy each other's company. he sees you talking to a man that you know through your line of work and decides to play the role of a "possessive boyfriend" a little too well.
total word count: 1.7k
✤ LOVE BUG (AUSTIN X INJURED!READER)
you've recently broken your leg at a red carpet event (see this fic for reference), but life goes on. austin and you have always been fond of rough housing. he lets you win every time, which is part of the fun. this time, however, he hits your bad ankle a little too hard and nearly worries himself sick about your condition.
total word count: 924
✤ GHOST OF YOU (AUSTIN X GRIEVING!READER)
losing your husband austin has left an irreparable hole in your heart.
total word count: 860
✤ MORBID, GRIM AND DOCTOR BUTLER (VICTORIAN DOCTOR!AUSTIN X ASSISTANT!READER)
"adventure waits for no one. not even the dead. you may tell me all of your concerns when i return." that was the letter that was nailed to the front door of doctor butler's apothecary. no one, not even in high society, has seen or heard anything from him and his assistant since. word breaks out at a tea party, however, that he's in new york. . . marrying you, his assistant.
total word count: 1.3k
✤ PENNY FOR YOUR THOUGHTS (DAD! AUSTIN X MOM! READER)
the two of you may be separated, but the two of you are the best parents that your daughter could ever ask for. there's only one problem though. . . austin is still madly in love with you and wants to try again.
total word count: 1.1k
→ 【elvis presley drabbles】
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✤ PEANUT BUTTER (DAD! ELVIS X MOM! READER)
stay at home sweater-dad elvis making a peanut butter and banana sandwich for his baby girl and little boy while you're laid up sick in bed.
total word count: 1.1k
✤ GOLD HEART (DAD! ELVIS X MOM! READER)
whilst out as a family, elvis sees a homeless man in need and decides that everybody deserves a second chance in life. your husband, being the sweet man that he is, invites him over to eat lunch with you and your son.
total word count: 1.7k
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leahluvr · 6 months
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nothing’s wrong - lucy bronze x reader
genre: reader gets diagnosed with a heart condition right before the euro finals, angst
warnings: chronic condition, injury
(requested)
____________________________________________
the last few weeks had been great, but awful. while the excitement for your teams progression in the 2022 euros was unimaginable, your underlying illness threatened to overshadow your joy. before the euros had kicked off, unbeknownst to your long term girlfriend, lucy, you had been feeling agonising chest pains, almost like palpitations, a shortness of breath, feeling lightheaded when standing up after sitting down or after a long day of training, and a plethora of other unusual occurrences. even during times of intimacy with lucy, you struggled to pluck up the courage to ask to slow down, feeling your own heart race and beginning to hyperventilate. you did your best to hide your pain from lucy as you knew she would become overbearingly cautious if you told her anything. you couldn’t burden her.
seeing that you had progressed further into the tournament, you made the responsible decision to visit the gp, brushing it off to lucy, letting her know it was just a ‘yearly checkup’.
“yearly checkup?” she asked, “but, love, we have regular checkups at camp all the time?”
“i know but,” you stopped to think of something to come up with, “my mum’s still got me signed up with this clinic; got the memo from mum and the gp to head in so…”
“alright, well if you say so,” she didn’t look so convinced, but to her, why else would you need to visit a doctor? “good luck, babe!”
she pressed a quick but deep kiss to your lips before you left out the door, keys in hand.
you sat in the waiting room impatiently, your leg shaking uncontrollably. again, out of nowhere, you clenched your chest in pain. you were even more eager than before to find out what was going on with your body, it posed as a constant reminder of your fragile state.
“yn yln” a nurse, holding a tablet, looked around the room before you stood, sending you a forced smile.
“right so, to definitively explain any of these symptoms your experiencing,” the doctor who sat before, you rested his hands on his knees, “we are going to need to run a few tests,”
“and since the mri is available in this schedule block, we’ll get that out the way, other wise you’ll be on a waiting list for possibly weeks.”
you kept your mouth shut and nodded in compliance.
after one uncomfortably claustrophobic mri, a couple of blood tests and other tests you couldn’t quite wrap your head around or understand, you were sat down in front of your doctor again.
“now, you won’t get the test results back for at least a week, so we’ll have you come visit again when we get those processed. given your symptoms and based off previous patients, i’d say you have postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome, more so known as pots,”
“which means; before you get any prescription medication, i’d advise you not to partake in any vigorous cardio activity like running, long distance walking, swimming or cycling.”
your jaw dropped and you chuckled at the suggestion in utter disbelief.
“i’m sorry but, i’m a professional footballer, i’ve got a semi-final and possibly a final game coming up to play, i’ve never gotten this far before, it’s a once in a life time opportunity. i have play.”
“look, i’d heavily advise you not to play your games at all but, if you do, i’d highly recommend for you to chat to your coach or manager to cut your time on the pitch, you need to let your body rest even if you aren’t experiencing extreme symptoms.”
you weren’t going to let some stupid heart condition stop you from winning that euros trophy with your national team and the love of your life. so what did you do? you didn’t listen. you disregarded your doctors advice with a hefty cost.
the semi-final had a positive outcome, england dominating and leading into the final. you had managed to play for the first half of the match and sat down, breathless and dizzy; you were fine. the test results from the appointment were still yet to come, so you didn’t visit the doctors again before the final game.
you quietly sat next to the right of lucy on the coach, her hand intertwined yours, thumb moving back and forth on your hand to soothe the nerves. the two of you had your heads lent against each other, finding comfort in one another’s proximity. suddenly, you were grasping at your chest, it ached terribly; it felt as though it was burning slowly in molten lava.
“babe, are you alright?” she looked at your with concern, eyes frantic for an explanation.
you eased your expression of pain with a short laugh.
“i think i ate my cereal too fast this morning from all the nerves,” you say, gritting a smile, “i’ve got heartburn!”
“you stupid girl,” she smiled gently, “have some water, love.”
she passed you her water bottle, and as you chugged it down, you were washed with the slight relief of pain and relief of lucy believing you. you could not cost lucy stressing out over you; of all people, especially before a final.
when you took a step into the stadium, the fans roared in anticipation. the energy was palpable, but so was the pain in your chest.
when the whistle was blown, your body moved on sheer willpower, adrenaline drowning out the cries of protest within.
you made eye contact with lucy on the pitch several times, her eyes fixed on you, mixed with pride and concern.
the first half passed in a blur, and as you retreated to the sidelines, you gasped for air, your vision blurring at the edges. lucy rushed to your side, her worry etched into every line on her face.
“sweet, what’s wrong?” she asked, placing a hand on your cheek, “i think you need to stop, yn, sub off for the next half, you look so burnt out.”
“i can’t let the team down, lucy. i’ll be fine!” you managed a weak smile trying to reassure her.
but even as you said the words, doubt crept in. you’d have to push through another 45 minutes of the game. your heart flooded with guilt, seeing as lucy was still unaware of your body’s intentions.
“yn!” sarina called for you, “what’s going on? you’re playing really badly, losing possession of the ball. if you don’t get your head in the game for this next half, i’m going make you sit out, there are other girls here who want to experience the game.”
you looked towards the ground in regret, you knew it wasn’t right for you to play. still, you wanted to contribute to the win, selfishly.
“sorry boss,” you apologised, shooting a smirk, “think it’s all the nerves about winning!”
sarina laughed and let you run off.
during the second half, you found yourself struggling to keep up. despite the excitement of providing the assist to tooney’s first goal for england, the pain in your chest intensified. your breaths came in ragged gasps and your legs felt like lead. despite the signs of your body begging for you to stop, you persisted. you couldn’t give up, there were still a view minutes to go.
in the final moments of the game, you pushed forward, using your last reserves of energy to fuel your movements.
as the crowd erupted in cheers, you collapsed to the ground, hands clawing at your chest that was constricting with pain. the action of having your eyes closed in contribution to the consecutive jabs you felt in your heart, dulled out the noise of your surroundings.
none of the team, not even lucy, had noticed you struggling, they’d all been huddling together and celebrating their history-changing win. you managed to push yourself up from the ground, which was a bad idea. as soon as you stood, your vision began to blur; pitch combining with the crowd. it felt as though gravity pulled you down, as you roughly collapsed to the grass from feeling faint, the next thing you know; everything went black.
it didn’t take long for the team to notice your lack of presence, as they heard the cheers of the crowd had transitioned into gasps and screams.
lucy was by your side in an instant, her hands quickly coming to the base of your neck for support.
“baby, yn, wake up please,” her voice quivered, she brushed your hair away your face and pressing a hard kiss to your forehead.
the team and medics surrounded your limp body, seemingly baffled by the sudden fainting.
but as your body began convulsing and your breath went from unusual to gone, your younger teammates began to cry, turning away from the scene.
“get the paramedics!” lucy’s voice cracked in panic, looking around frantically for someone to say or do something. tears began falling from eyes, and she pushed them desperately away with her hands.
she could see hempo sprinting to the sidelines, asking to get the paramedics that had specially been on standby for the final.
it didn’t take long for the paramedics to have their hands on your chest, wasting no time to check your pulse, going straight to compressing firmly and quickly with no prior precautions.
lucy’s heart shattered when she made out the sound of a few of your ribs cracking from the compressions. was she going to lose you?
lucy had encased your hands in hers the whole ride to the hospital, drowning in fear. but lucy couldn’t look at you, way too scared and worried for your health. the paramedics had managed to get your heart beating at a regular rate and breathing in control, but you were yet to awaken.
the hospital room you were now situated in was quiet, heart rate monitor beeping from normal to moderately high, in waves. lucy stayed by your side, staring at the iv drip slowly releasing into the needle plunged in your arm.
there was a knock on the door and a nurse walked in to look at lucy, a smile on her face.
“hi, a friend, i’m assuming?” she asked, looking back at forth between your unconscious body and lucy.
“nah, girlfriend.” lucy replied.
“oh i’m sorry, um so i’ve got a bit of a synopsis for you. so yn here, seeing she’s been recently diagnosed with postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome, the doctors just said that she’s had a severe pots episode, very similar to a heart attack. she’s got a couple of broken ribs from the cpr but, they’ll heal in no time. not to worry, she’ll be okay in a few weeks time.”
“i’m sorry, she’s been diagnosed with what?”
“postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome or you probably know it as pots,” she informed lucy, quickly noticing her face of shock and confusion, “…she hadn’t told you yet?”
“no,” lucy whispered a reply.
“i’m really sorry, it’s a chronic heart syndrome. well, she’ll be awake very soon, so i wish you luck with your conversation. let me know if you need anything.”
lucy curtly nodded to the nurse and watched her walk out the door before repositioning her attention to you. her eyes wavered over your sleeping body.
she placed her hands over her face and broke down crying. she sobbed for minutes, though it felt like hours to her. obsessive thoughts clouded her head, subsequently haunting her.
why hadn’t you told her? were you to scared to tell her? did you not trust her? didn’t you tell her everything? why? did you even love her?
you slowly opened your eyes to the harsh fluorescent lights beaming from above. the sterile smell of the hospital room filled your senses and you tuned in to hear the beeps of the monitor and quiet sobs and sniffles coming from beside you.
“darling, don’t cry,” you croaked, lifting and reaching a heavy arm towards her, though it felt like it was anchored to the bed.
lucy almost plunged towards you when she noticed your voice and lifted her head to see your eyes, droopy, but open. she had to restrain herself from embracing you tightly, as she was reminded of the broken ribs that the nurse had mentioned earlier.
“you scared the shit the out of me,” she whispered in your neck, as you caressed her head gently, “why didn’t you saying anything?”
“i’m so sorry luce, i was so worried i was going to scare you,” you sighed, “i didn’t want to stress you out before the final, so i was going to wait before i told you.”
“yn, i would rather want to make sure your okay, then win some stupid football game. you mean everything to me and i don’t want to lose you.”
“i’m sorry, lucy, i love you.”
“i love you too,” lucy whispered, voice full of emotion, “but promise me you’ll never shut me out. this is such a big thing to hide. we’ll face these things together, no matter what, okay?.”
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an: dk if i like how this turned out 🧍‍♀️
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